Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare Part 6

Lo _Shakespear_, Fancy's sweetest Child, Warbles his native Wood-notes wild;

and of Mr. _Dryden_ after them both; and which destroys the most glorious Part of _Shakespear_'s Merit immediately. For how can he be esteem'd equal by Nature or superior to the Ancients, when he falls so far short of them in Art, tho' he had the Advantage of knowing all that they did before him?

Nay it debases him below those of common Capacity, by reason of the Errors which we mention'd above. Therefore he who allows that _Shakespear_ had Learning and a familiar Acquaintance with the Ancients, ought to be look'd upon as a Detractor from his extraordinary Merit, and from the Glory of _Great Britain_. For whether is it more honourable for this Island to have produc'd a Man who, without having any Acquaintance with the Ancients, or any but a slender and a superficial one, appears to be their Equal or their Superiour by the Force of Genius and Nature, or to have bred one who, knowing the Ancients, falls infinitely short of them in Art, and consequently in Nature it self? _Great Britain_ has but little Reason to boast of its Natives Education, since the same that they had here, they might have had in another place. But it may justly claim a very great share in their Nature and Genius, since these depend in a great measure on the Climate; and therefore _Horace_, in the Instruction which he gives for the forming the Characters, advises the n.o.ble _Romans_ for whose Instruction he chiefly writes to consider whether the Dramatick Person whom they introduce is

" Colchus an a.s.syrius, Thebis nutritus an Argis. "

Thus, Sir, I have endeavour'd to shew under what great Disadvantages _Shakespear_ lay, for want of the Poetical Art, and for want of being conversant with the Ancients.

But besides this, he lay under other very great Inconveniencies. For he was neither Master of Time enough to consider, correct, and polish what he wrote, to alter it, to add to it, and to retrench from it, nor had he Friends to consult upon whose Capacity and Integrity he could depend. And tho' a Person of very good Judgment may succeed very well without consulting his Friends, if he takes time enough to correct what he writes; yet even the greatest Man that Nature and Art can conspire to accomplish, can never attain to Perfection, without either employing a great deal of time, or taking the Advice of judicious Friends. Nay, 'tis the Opinion of _Horace_ that he ought to do both.

Siquid tamen olim Scripseris, in Metii descendat Judicis aures, Et Patris, & nostras; nonumque prematur in Annum.

Now we know very well that _Shakespear_ was an Actor, at a time when there were seven or eight Companies of Players in the Town together, who each of them did their utmost Endeavours to get the Audiences from the rest, and consequently that our Author was perpetually call'd upon, by those who had the Direction and Management of the Company to which he belong'd, for new Pieces which might be able to support them, and give them some Advantage over the rest. And 'tis easie to judge what Time he was Master of, between his laborious Employment of Acting and his continual Hurry of Writing. As for Friends, they whom in all likelihood _Shakespear_ consulted most were two or three of his Fellow-Actors, because they had the Care of publis.h.i.+ng his Works committed to them. Now they, as we are told by _Ben Johnson_ in his _Discoveries_, were extremely pleas'd with their Friend for scarce ever making a Blot; and were very angry with _Ben_ for saying he wish'd that he had made a thousand. The Misfortune of it is that _Horace_ was perfectly of _Ben_'s, mind.

--Vos, O Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non Multa dies & multa litura coercuit, atque Praesectum decies non castigavit ad unguem.

And so was my Lord _Roscommon_.

Poets lose half the Praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

These Friends then of _Shakespear_ were not qualify'd to advise him. As for _Ben Johnson_, besides that _Shakespear_ began to know him late, and that _Ben_ was not the most communicative Person in the World of the Secrets of his Art, he seems to me to have had no right Notion of Tragedy.

Nay, so far from it, that he who was indeed a very great Man, and who has writ Comedies, by which he has born away the Prize of Comedy both from Ancients and Moderns, and been an Honour to _Great Britain_; and who has done this without any Rules to guide him, except what his own incomparable Talent dictated to him; This extraordinary Man has err'd so grossly in Tragedy, of which there were not only stated Rules, but Rules which he himself had often read, and had even translated, that he has chosen two Subjects, which, according to those very Rules, were utterly incapable of exciting either Compa.s.sion or Terror for the princ.i.p.al Characters, which yet are the chief Pa.s.sions that a Tragick Poet ought to endeavour to excite. So that _Shakespear_ having neither had Time to correct, nor Friends to consult, must necessarily have frequently left such faults in his Writings, for the Correction of which either a great deal of Time or a judicious and a well-natur'd Friend is indispensably necessary.

Vir bonus & prudens versus reprehendet inertes, Culpabit duros, incomptis allinet atrum Transverso calamo signum, ambitiosa recidet Ornamenta, parum claris lucem dare coget, Arguet ambigue dictum, mutanda notabit.

There is more than one Example of every kind of these Faults in the Tragedies of _Shakespear_, and even in the _Coriola.n.u.s_. There are Lines that are utterly void of that celestial Fire of which _Shakespear_ is sometimes Master in so great a Degree. And consequently there are Lines that are stiff and forc'd, and harsh and unmusical, tho' _Shakespear_ had naturally an admirable Ear for the Numbers. But no Man ever was very musical who did not write with Fire, and no Man can always write with Fire, unless he is so far Master of his Time, as to expect those Hours when his Spirits are warm and volatile. _Shakespear_ must therefore sometimes have Lines which are neither strong nor graceful: For who ever had Force or Grace that had not Spirit? There are in his _Coriola.n.u.s_, among a great many natural and admirable Beauties, three or four of those Ornaments which _Horace_ would term ambitious; and which we in _English_ are apt to call Fustian or Bombast. There are Lines in some Places which are very obscure, and whole Scenes which ought to be alter'd.

I have, Sir, employ'd some Time and Pains, and that little Judgment which I have acquir'd in these Matters by a long and a faithful reading both of Ancients and Moderns, in adding, retrenching, and altering several Things in the _Coriola.n.u.s_ of _Shakespear_, but with what Success I must leave to be determin'd by you. I know very well that you will be surpriz'd to find, that after all that I have said in the former Part of this Letter against _Shakespear_'s introducing the Rabble into _Coriola.n.u.s_, I have not only retain'd in the second Act of the following Tragedy the Rabble which is in the Original, but deviated more from the _Roman_ Customs than _Shakespear_ had done before me. I desire you to look upon it as a voluntary Fault and a Trespa.s.s against Conviction: 'Tis one of those Things which are _ad Populum Phalerae_, and by no means inserted to please such Men as you.

Thus, Sir, have I laid before you a short but impartial Account of the Beauties and Defects of _Shakespear_, with an Intention to make these Letters publick if they are approv'd by you; to teach some People to distinguish between his Beauties and his Defects, that while they imitate the one, they may with Caution avoid the other [there being nothing of more dangerous Contagion to Writers, and especially to young ones, than the Faults of great Masters], and while with _Milton_ they applaud the great Qualities which _Shakespear_ had by Nature, they may follow his wise Example, and form themselves as he a.s.sures us that he himself did, upon the Rules and Writings of the Ancients.

Sir, if so candid and able a Judge as your self shall happen to approve of this Essay in the main, and to excuse and correct my Errors, that Indulgence and that Correction will not only encourage me to make these Letters publick, but will enable me to bear the Reproach of those who would fix a Brand even upon the justest Criticism, as the Effect of Envy and Ill-nature; as if there could possibly be any Ill-nature in the doing Justice, or in the endeavouring to advance a very n.o.ble and a very useful Art, and consequently to prove beneficent to Mankind. As for those who may accuse me of the want of a due Veneration for the Merit of an Author of so establish'd a Reputation as _Shakespear_, I shall beg leave to tell them, that they chuse the wrongest time that they could possibly take for such an Accusation as that. For I appeal to you, Sir, who shews most Veneration for the Memory of _Shakespear_, he who loves and admires his Charms and makes them one of his chief Delights, who sees him and reads him over and over and still remains unsatiated, and who mentions his Faults for no other Reason but to make his Excellency the more conspicuous, or he who, pretending to be his blind Admirer, shews in Effect the utmost Contempt for him, preferring empty effeminate Sound to his solid Beauties and manly Graces, and deserting him every Night for an execrable _Italian_ Ballad, so vile that a Boy who should write such lamentable Dogrel would be turn'd out of _Westminster_-School for a desperate Blockhead, too stupid to be corrected and amended by the harshest Discipline of the Place?

_I am_, _Sir_, _Yours, &c._

ALEXANDER POPE: PREFACE TO EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE. 1725.

It is not my design to enter into a Criticism upon this Author; tho' to do it effectually and not superficially would be the best occasion that any just Writer could take, to form the judgment and taste of our nation. For of all _English_ Poets _Shakespear_ must be confessed to be the fairest and fullest subject for Criticism, and to afford the most numerous as well as most conspicuous instances, both of Beauties and Faults of all sorts.

But this far exceeds the bounds of a Preface, the business of which is only to give an account of the fate of his Works, and the disadvantages under which they have been transmitted to us. We shall hereby extenuate many faults which are his, and clear him from the imputation of many which are not: A design, which, tho' it can be no guide to future Criticks to do him justice in one way, will at least be sufficient to prevent their doing him an injustice in the other.

I cannot however but mention some of his princ.i.p.al and characteristic Excellencies, for which (notwithstanding his defects) he is justly and universally elevated above all other Dramatic Writers. Not that this is the proper place of praising him, but because I would not omit any occasion of doing it.

If ever any Author deserved the name of an _Original_, it was _Shakespear_. _Homer_ himself drew not his art so immediately from the fountains of Nature; it proceeded thro' _aegyptian_ strainers and channels, and came to him not without some tincture of the learning, or some cast of the models, of those before him. The Poetry of _Shakespear_ was Inspiration indeed: he is not so much an Imitator, as an Instrument, of Nature; and 'tis not so just to say that he speaks from her, as that she speaks thro' him.

His _Characters_ are so much Nature her self, that 'tis a sort of injury to call them by so distant a name as Copies of her. Those of other Poets have a constant resemblance, which shews that they receiv'd them from one another, and were but multiplyers of the same image: each picture, like a mock-rainbow, is but the reflexion of a reflexion. But every single character in _Shakespear_ is as much an Individual as those in Life itself; it is as impossible to find any two alike; and such as from their relation or affinity in any respect appear most to be Twins, will upon comparison be found remarkably distinct. To this life and variety of Character, we must add the wonderful Preservation of it; which is such throughout his plays, that had all the Speeches been printed without the very names of the Persons, I believe one might have apply'd them with certainty to every speaker.

The _Power_ over our _Pa.s.sions_ was never possess'd in a more eminent degree, or display'd in so different instances. Yet all along, there is seen no labour, no pains to raise them; no preparation to guide our guess to the effect, or be perceiv'd to lead toward it: But the heart swells, and the tears burst out, just at the proper places: We are surpriz'd, the moment we weep; and yet upon reflection find the pa.s.sion so just, that we shou'd be surpriz'd if we had not wept, and wept at that very moment.

How astonis.h.i.+ng is it again, that the pa.s.sions directly opposite to these, Laughter and Spleen, are no less at his command! that he is not more a master of the _Great_, than of the _Ridiculous_ in human nature; of our n.o.blest tendernesses, than of our vainest foibles; of our strongest emotions, than of our idlest sensations!

Nor does he only excel in the Pa.s.sions: In the coolness of Reflection and Reasoning he is full as admirable. His _Sentiments_ are not only in general the most pertinent and judicious upon every subject; but by a talent very peculiar, something between Penetration and Felicity, he hits upon that particular point on which the bent of each argument turns, or the force of each motive depends. This is perfectly amazing, from a man of no education or experience in those great and publick scenes of life which are usually the subject of his thoughts: So that he seems to have known the world by Intuition, to have look'd thro' humane nature at one glance, and to be the only Author that gives ground for a very new opinion, That the Philosopher, and even the Man of the world, may be _Born_, as well as the Poet.

It must be own'd that with all these great excellencies he has almost as great defects; and that as he has certainly written better, so he has perhaps written worse, than any other. But I think I can in some measure account for these defects, from several causes and accidents; without which it is hard to imagine that so large and so enlighten'd a mind could ever have been susceptible of them. That all these Contingencies should unite to his disadvantage seems to me almost as singularly unlucky, as that so many various (nay contrary) Talents should meet in one man, was happy and extraordinary.

It must be allowed that Stage-Poetry of all other is more particularly levell'd to please the _Populace_, and its success more immediately depending upon the _Common Suffrage_. One cannot therefore wonder, if _Shakespear_, having at his first appearance no other aim in his writings than to procure a subsistance, directed his endeavours solely to hit the taste and humour that then prevailed. The Audience was generally composed of the meaner sort of people; and therefore the Images of Life were to be drawn from those of their own rank: accordingly we find that not our Author's only but almost all the old Comedies have their Scene among _Tradesmen_ and _Mechanicks_: And even their Historical Plays strictly follow the common _Old Stories_ or _Vulgar Traditions_ of that kind of people. In Tragedy, nothing was so sure to _Surprize_ and cause _Admiration_, as the most strange, unexpected, and consequently most unnatural, Events and Incidents; the most exaggerated Thoughts; the most verbose and bombast Expression; the most pompous Rhymes, and thundering Versification. In Comedy, nothing was so sure to _please_, as mean buffoonry, vile ribaldry, and unmannerly jests of fools and clowns. Yet even in these our Author's Wit buoys up, and is born above his subject: his Genius in those low parts is like some Prince of a Romance in the disguise of a Shepherd or Peasant; a certain Greatness and Spirit now and then break out, which manifest his higher extraction and qualities.

It may be added, that not only the common Audience had no notion of the rules of writing, but few even of the better sort piqu'd themselves upon any great degree of knowledge or nicety that way, till _Ben Johnson_ getting possession of the Stage brought critical learning into vogue: And that this was not done without difficulty, may appear from those frequent lessons (and indeed almost Declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his first plays, and put into the mouth of his Actors, the _Grex_, _Chorus_, &c. to remove the prejudices, and inform the judgment of his hearers. Till then, our Authors had no thoughts of writing on the model of the Ancients: their Tragedies were only Histories in Dialogue; and their Comedies follow'd the thread of any Novel as they found it, no less implicitly than if it had been true History.

To judge therefore of _Shakespear_ by _Aristotle_'s rules, is like trying a man by the Laws of one Country, who acted under those of another. He writ to the _People_; and writ at first without patronage from the better sort, and therefore without aims of pleasing them: without a.s.sistance or advice from the Learned, as without the advantage of education or acquaintance among them: without that knowledge of the best models, the Ancients, to inspire him with an emulation of them; in a word, without any views of Reputation, and of what Poets are pleas'd to call Immortality: Some or all of which have encourag'd the vanity, or animated the ambition, of other writers.

Yet it must be observ'd, that when his performances had merited the protection of his Prince, and when the encouragement of the Court had succeeded to that of the Town, the works of his riper years are manifestly raised above those of his former. The Dates of his plays sufficiently evidence that his productions improved, in proportion to the respect he had for his auditors. And I make no doubt this observation will be found true in every instance, were but Editions extant from which we might learn the exact time when every piece was composed, and whether writ for the Town or the Court.

Another Cause (and no less strong than the former) may be deduced from our Author's being a _Player_, and forming himself first upon the judgments of that body of men whereof he was a member. They have ever had a Standard to themselves, upon other principles than those of _Aristotle_. As they live by the Majority, they know no rule but that of pleasing the present humour, and complying with the wit in fas.h.i.+on; a consideration which brings all their judgment to a short point. Players are just such judges of what is _right_, as Taylors are of what is _graceful_. And in this view it will be but fair to allow, that most of our Author's faults are less to be ascribed to his wrong judgment as a Poet, than to his right judgment as a Player.

By these men it was thought a praise to _Shakespear_, that he scarce ever _blotted a line_. This they industriously propagated, as appears from what we are told by _Ben Johnson_ in his _Discoveries_, and from the preface of _Heminges_ and _Condell_ to the first folio Edition. But in reality (however it has prevailed) there never was a more groundless report, or to the contrary of which there are more undeniable evidences: As, the Comedy of the _Merry Wives_ of _Windsor_, which he entirely new writ; the _History of_ Henry _the 6th_, which was first published under the t.i.tle of the _Contention of_ York _and_ Lancaster; and that of Henry _the 5th_, extreamly improved; that of _Hamlet_ enlarged to almost as much again as at first, and many others. I believe the common opinion of his want of Learning proceeded from no better ground. This too might be thought a Praise by some; and to this his Errors have as injudiciously been ascribed by others. For 'tis certain, were it true, it would concern but a small part of them; the most are such as are not properly Defects, but Superftations: and arise not from want of learning or reading, but from want of thinking or judging: or rather (to be more just to our Author) from a compliance to those wants in others. As to a wrong choice of the subject, a wrong conduct of the incidents, false thoughts, forc'd expressions, &c. if these are not to be ascrib'd to the foresaid accidental reasons, they must be charg'd upon the Poet himself, and there is no help for it. But I think the two Disadvantages which I have mentioned (to be obliged to please the lowest of the people, and to keep the worst of company), if the consideration be extended as far as it reasonably may, will appear sufficient to mis-lead and depress the greatest Genius upon earth. Nay the more modesty with which such a one is endued, the more he is in danger of submitting and conforming to others, against his own better judgment.

But as to his _Want of Learning_, it may be necessary to say something more: There is certainly a vast difference between _Learning_ and _Languages_. How far he was ignorant of the latter, I cannot determine; but 'tis plain he had much Reading at least, if they will not call it Learning. Nor is it any great matter, if a man has Knowledge, whether he has it from one language or from another. Nothing is more evident than that he had a taste of natural Philosophy, Mechanicks, ancient and modern History, Poetical learning, and Mythology: We find him very knowing in the customs, rites, and manners of Antiquity. In _Coriola.n.u.s_ and _Julius Caesar_, not only the Spirit, but Manners, of the _Romans_ are exactly drawn; and still a nicer distinction is shewn, between the manners of the _Romans_ in the time of the former and of the latter. His reading in the ancient Historians is no less conspicuous, in many references to particular pa.s.sages: and the speeches copy'd from _Plutarch_ in _Coriola.n.u.s_ may, I think, as well be made an instance of his learning, as those copy'd from _Cicero_ in _Catiline_, of _Ben Johnson_'s. The manners of other nations in general, the _Egyptians_, _Venetians_, _French_, &c., are drawn with equal propriety. Whatever object of nature, or branch of science, he either speaks of or describes, it is always with competent, if not extensive knowledge: his descriptions are still exact; all his metaphors appropriated, and remarkably drawn from the true nature and inherent qualities of each subject. When he treats of Ethic or Politic, we may constantly observe a wonderful justness of distinction, as well as extent of comprehension. No one is more a master of the Poetical story, or has more frequent allusions to the various parts of it: Mr. _Waller_ (who has been celebrated for this last particular) has not shown more learning this way than _Shakespear_. We have Translations from _Ovid_ published in his name, among those Poems which pa.s.s for his, and for some of which we have undoubted authority (being published by himself, and dedicated to his n.o.ble Patron the Earl of _Southampton_). He appears also to have been conversant in _Plautus_, from whom he has taken the plot of one of his plays: he follows the _Greek_ Authors, and particularly _Dares Phrygius_, in another (altho' I will not pretend to say in what language he read them). The modern _Italian_ writers of Novels he was manifestly acquainted with; and we may conclude him to be no less conversant with the Ancients of his own country, from the use he has made of _Chaucer_ in _Troilus_ and _Cressida_, and in the _Two n.o.ble Kinsmen_, if that Play be his, as there goes a Tradition it was (and indeed it has little resemblance of _Fletcher_, and more of our Author than some of those which have been received as genuine).

I am inclined to think, this opinion proceeded originally from the zeal of the Partizans of our Author and _Ben Johnson_; as they endeavoured to exalt the one at the expence of the other. It is ever the nature of Parties to be in extremes; and nothing is so probable, as that because _Ben Johnson_ had much the more learning, it was said on the one hand that _Shakespear_ had none at all; and because _Shakespear_ had much the most wit and fancy, it was retorted on the other, that _Johnson_ wanted both.

Because _Shakespear_ borrowed nothing, it was said that _Ben Johnson_ borrowed every thing. Because _Johnson_ did not write extempore, he was reproached with being a year about every piece; and because _Shakespear_ wrote with ease and rapidity, they cryed, he never once made a blot. Nay the spirit of opposition ran so high, that whatever those of the one side objected to the other, was taken at the rebound, and turned into Praises; as injudiciously as their antagonists before had made them Objections.

Poets are always afraid of Envy; but sure they have as much reason to be afraid of Admiration. They are the _Scylla_ and _Charybdis_ of Authors; those who escape one, often fall by the other. _Pessimum genus inimicorum Laudantes_, says _Tacitus_: and _Virgil_ desires to wear a charm against those who praise a Poet without rule or reason.

--Si ultra placitum laudarit, baccare frontem Cingito, ne Vati noceat--.

But however this contention might be carried on by the Partizans on either side, I cannot help thinking these two great Poets were good friends, and lived on amicable terms and in offices of society with each other. It is an acknowledged fact, that _Ben Johnson_ was introduced upon the Stage, and his first works encouraged, by _Shakespear_. And after his death, that Author writes _To the memory of __ his beloved Mr._ William Shakespear, which shows as if the friends.h.i.+p had continued thro' life. I cannot for my own part find any thing _Invidious_ or _Sparing_ in those verses, but wonder Mr. _Dryden_ was of that opinion. He exalts him not only above all his Contemporaries, but above _Chaucer_ and _Spenser_, whom he will not allow to be great enough to be rank'd with him; and challenges the names of _Sophocles_, _Euripides_, and _aeschylus_, nay all _Greece_ and _Rome_ at once, to equal him: And (which is very particular) expressly vindicates him from the imputation of wanting _Art_, not enduring that all his excellencies shou'd be attributed to _Nature_. It is remarkable too, that the praise he gives him in his _Discoveries_ seems to proceed from a _personal kindness_; he tells us that he lov'd the man, as well as honoured his memory; celebrates the honesty, openness, and frankness of his temper; and only distinguishes, as he reasonably ought, between the real merit of the Author, and the silly and derogatory applauses of the Players. _Ben Johnson_ might indeed be sparing in his Commendations (tho'

certainly he is not so in this instance) partly from his own nature, and partly from judgment. For men of judgment think they do any man more service in praising him justly, than lavishly. I say, I would fain believe they were Friends, tho' the violence and ill-breeding of their Followers and Flatterers were enough to give rise to the contrary report. I would hope that it may be with _Parties_, both in Wit and State, as with those Monsters described by the Poets; and that their _Heads_ at least may have something humane, tho' their _Bodies_ and _Tails_ are wild beasts and serpents.

As I believe that what I have mentioned gave rise to the opinion of _Shakespear_'s want of learning; so what has continued it down to us may have been the many blunders and illiteracies of the first Publishers of his works. In these Editions their ignorance s.h.i.+nes almost in every page; nothing is more common than _Actus tertia_, _Exit Omnes_, _Enter three Witches solus_. Their French is as bad as their _Latin_, both in construction and spelling: Their very _Welsh_ is false. Nothing is more likely than that those palpable blunders of _Hector_'s quoting _Aristotle_, with others of that gross kind, sprung from the same root: It not being at all credible that these could be the errors of any man who had the least tincture of a School, or the least conversation with such as had. _Ben Johnson_ (whom they will not think partial to him) allows him at least to have had _some Latin_; which is utterly inconsistent with mistakes like these. Nay the constant blunders in proper names of persons and places, are such as must have proceeded from a man who had not so much as read any history, in any language: so could not be _Shakespear_'s.

I shall now lay before the reader some of those almost innumerable Errors which have risen from one source, the ignorance of the Players, both as his actors, and as his editors. When the nature and kinds of these are enumerated and considered, I dare to say that not _Shakespear_ only, but _Aristotle_ or _Cicero_, had their works undergone the same fate, might have appear'd to want sense as well as learning.