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his carelessness in this point, when he comes to another part of the Drama, The Manners of his Characters, in acting or speaking what is proper for them, and fit to be shown by the Poet, he may be generally justify'd, and in very many places greatly commended. For those Plays which he has taken from the English or Roman history, let any man compare 'em, and he will find the character as exact in the Poet as the Historian. He feems indeed fo far from propofing to himself any one action for a Subject, that the Title very often tells you, 'tis The Life of King John, King Richard, &c. What can be more agreeable to the idea our hiftorians give of Henry the fixth, than the picture Shakespear has drawn of him! His manners are every where exactly the fame with the story; one finds him ftill defcrib'd with fimplicity, paffive fanctity, want of courage, weakness of mind, and eafie fubmiffion to the governance of an imperious Wife, or prevailing Faction: Tho' at the fame time the Poet do's jultice to his good qualities, and moves the pity of his audience for him, by showing him pious, difinterested, a contemner of the things of this world, and wholly refign'd to the severest dispensations of God's providence. There is a short Scene in the second part of Henry VI, which I cannot but think admirable in its kind. Cardinal Beaufort, who had murder'd the duke of Gloucester, is shewn in the

last agonies on his death-bed, with the good King - praying over him. There is so much terror in one, so much tenderness and moving piety in the other, as must touch any one who is capable either of fear or pity. In his Henry VIII, that Prince is drawn with that greatness of mind, and all those good qualities which are attributed to him in any account of his reign. If his faults are not shewn in an equal degree, and the shades in this picture do not bear a juft

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just proportion to the lights, it is not that the Artist wanted either colours or skill in the difpofition of 'em; but the truth, I believe, might be, that he forbore doing it out of regard to Queen Elizabeth, fince it could have been no very great respect to the memory of his Mistress, to have expos'd fome certain parts of her father's life upon the stage. He has dealt much more freely with the Minifter of that great King, and certainly nothing was ever more juftly written, than the character of Cardinal Wolfey. He has thewn him infolent in his profperity; and yet, by a wonderful address, he makes his fall and ruin the fubject of general compaffion. The whole man, with his vices and virtues, is finely and exactly defcrib'd in the second scene of the fourth act. The distresses likewise of Queen Katharine, in this Play, are very movingly touch'd; and thơ' the art of the Poet has skreen'd King Henry from any gross Imputation of injuftice, yet one is inclin'd to with, the Queen had met with a fortune more worthy of her birth and virtue. Nor are the Manners, proper to the persons represented, less juftly observ'd, in those characters taken from the Roman Hiftory; and of this, the fierceness and impatience of Coriolanus, his courage and disdain of the common people, the virtue and philosophical temper of Brutus, and the irregular greatness of mind in M. Antony, are beautiful proofs. For thetwo last especially, you find 'em exactly as they are defcrib'd by Plutarch, from whom certainly Shakespear copy'd 'em. He has indeed follow'd his original pretty close, and taken in several little incidents that might have been spar'd in a Play. But as I hinted before, his design seems most commonly rather to defcribe those great men in the several fortunes and accidents of their lives, than to take any fingle great action, and form his work fimply

ply upon that. However, there are some of his pieces, where the Fable is founded upon one action

Ett only. Such are more especially, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, and Othello. The design in Romeo and Juliet, is plainly the punishment of their two families, for the unreasonable feuds and animofities that had been so long kept up between 'em, and occafion'd the effusion of fo much blood. In the management of this story, he has shewn something, wonderfully tender and paffionate in the love-part,, and very pitiful in the distress. Hamlet is foundsed on much the fame Tale with the Electra of Sophocles. In each of 'em a young Prince is engaged to revenge the death of his father, their mothers are equally guilty, are both concern'd in the murder of their husbands, and are afterwards marit ried to the murderers. There is in the first part of the Greek Tragedy, something very moving in the grief of Electra; but as Mr. D'Acier has observ'd, there is fomething very unnatural and shocking in the Manners he has given that Princess and Orestes in the latter part. Orestes embrues his hands in the blood of his own mother; and that barbarous action is perform'd, tho' not immediately upon the stage, yet so near, that the audience hear Clytemneftra crying out to Ægysthus for help, and to her fon for mercy: While Electra, her daughter, and a Princess (both of them characters that ought to have appear'd with more decency) stands upon the stage and encourages her brother in the Parricide. What horror does this not raise! Clytemnestra was a wicked woman, and had deserv'd to die; nay, in the truth of the story, she was kill'd by her own fon; but to reprefent an action of this kind on the stage, is certainly an offence against those rules of manners proper to the perfons, that ought to be observ'd there. On the contrary, let us only look a little

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on the conduct of Shakespear. Hamlet is represent-
ed with the fame piety towards his father, and re-
folution to revenge his death, as Orestes; he had
the fame abhorrence for his mother's guilt, which,
to provoke him the more, is heighten'd by inceft:
But 'tis with wonderful art and juftness of judg-
ment, that the Poet restrains him from doing vio-
lence to his mother. To prevent any thing of that
kind, he makes his father's Ghoft forbid that part
of his vengeance.

But howsoever thou pursu'st this Act,
Taint not thy mind; nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother ought; leave her to heav'n,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.

This is to diftinguish rightly between Horror and Terror. The latter is a proper paffion of Tragedy, but the former ought always to be carefully avoided. And certainly no dramatick Writer ever fucceeded better in raising Terror in the minds of an audience than Shakespear has done. The whole Tragedy of Macbeth, but more especially the scene where the King is murder'd, in the second act, as well as this Play, is a noble proof of that manly fpirit with which he writ; and both shew how powerful he was, in giving the strongest motions to our fouls that they are capable of. I cannot leave Hamlet, without taking notice of the advantage with which we have feen this Master-piece of ShakeSpear diftinguish it felf upon the stage, by Mr. Betterton's fine performance of that part. A man, who tho' he had no other good qualities, as he has a great many, must have made his way into the esteem of all men of letters, by this only excellency. No man is better acquainted with Shakespear's manner

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of expreffion, and indeed he has study'd him fo de well, and is so much a mafter of him, that whathi ever part of his he performs, he does it as if it had it been written on purpose for him, and that the Auet thor had exactly conceiv'd it as he plays it. I must own a particular obligation to him, for the most confiderable part of the passages relating to this life, which I have here tranfmitted to the publick; his er veneration for the memory of Shakespear having engaged him to make a journey into Warwickshire, on purpose to gather up what remains he could, of a name for which he had fo great a veneration.