blame:-"With what pleasure have I seen in London your tragedy of 'Julius Cæsar,' which for a hundred and fifty years has been the delight of your nation! I assuredly do not pretend to approve the barbarous irregularities with which it abounds. It is only astonishing that one finds not more of them in a work composed in an age of ignorance, by a man who even knew not Latin, and who had no master but his own genius. But, in the midst of so many gross faults, with what ravishment have I seen Brutus," &c. All this is perfectly intelligible, and demands no harsher censure than we have a right to apply to Dryden, who says nearly as strong things, and writes most of his own tragedies in the spirit of a devoted worshipper of the French school. In 1761, some thirty years after his letter to Bolingbroke, Voltaire writes 'An Essay on the English Theatre,' in which he expresses the wonder, which Johnson notices, that the nation which has 'Cato' can endure Shakspere. In this essay he has a long analysis of 'Hamlet,' in which, without attempting to penetrate at all into the real idea of that drama, he gives such an account of the plot as may exaggerate what ne regards as its absurdities. He then says, "We cannot have a more forcible example of the difference of taste among nations. Let us, after this, speak of the rules of Aristotle, and the three unities, and the bienséances, and the necessity of never leaving the scene empty, and that no person should go out or come in without a sensible reason. Let us talk, after this, of the artful arrangement of the plot and its natural development; of the expressions being simple and noble; of making princes speak with the decency which they always have, or ought to have; of never violating the rules of language. It is clear that a whole nation may be enchanted without giving oneself such trouble." No one can be more consistent than Voltaire in the expression of his opinions. It is not the individual judgment of the man betraying him into a doubtful and varying tone, but his uniform theory of the poetical art, which directs all his censure of Shakspere; and which therefore makes his admiration, such as it is, of more value than the vague homage of those who, despising, or affecting to despise, Voltaire's system, have embraced no system of their own, and thus infallibly come to be more dogmatical, more supercilious, in their abuse, and more creeping in their praise, than the most slavish disciple of a school wholly opposed to Shakspere, but consecrated by time, by high example, and by national opinion. The worst things which Voltaire has said of Shakspere are conceived in this spirit, and therefore ought not in truth to offend Shakspere's warmest admirers. "He had a genius full of power and fruitfulness, of the natural and the sublime "--this is the praise. The dispraise is linked to it:"Without the least spark of good taste, and without the slightest knowledge of rules." We may dissent from this, but it is not fair to quarrel with it. He then goes on:— “I will say a hazardous thing, but true, that the merit of this author has ruined the English theatre. There are so many fine scenes, so many grand and terrible passages spread through his monstrous farces which they call tragedies, that his pieces have always been represented with extreme success."* We smile at the man's power of ridicule when he travesties a plot of Shakspere, as in the dissertation prefixed to 'Semiramis.' But his object is so manifest that of the elevation of his own theory of art-that he cannot outrage us. For what is his conclusion? That Shakspere would have been a perfect poet if he had lived in the time of Addison†. The famous 'Letter to the Academy,' in 1776, was the crowning effort of Voltaire's hostility to Shakspere. In that year was announced a complete translation of Shakspere; and several of the plays were published as a commencement of the undertaking. France, according to Grimm, was in a ferment. The announcement of this translation appears to have enraged Voltaire. It said that Shakspere was the creator of the sublime art of the theatre, which received from his hands existence and perfection; *Lettres Philosophiques.' Lettre 18. + Dictionnaire Philosophique.' 'Correspondance,' 3me partie, tome 1re. ... and, what was personally offensive, it added | Take a specimen:-"Our author, by followthat Shakspere was unknown in France, or, ing minutely the chronicles of the times, rather, disfigured. Voltaire tells the Academy has embarrassed his dramas with too great that he was the first who made Shakspere a number of persons and events. The hurlyknown in France, by the translation of some burly of these plays recommended them to of his passages; that he had translated, too, a rude, illiterate audience, who, as he says, the 'Julius Cæsar.' But he is indignant that loved a noise of targets. His poverty, and the new translators would sacrifice France to the low condition of the stage (which at that England, in paying no homage to the great time was not frequented by persons of rank), French dramatists, whose pieces are acted obliged him to this complaisance; and, unthroughout Europe. He notices, then, the fortunately, he had not been tutored by any four plays which they have translated, and rules of art, or informed by acquaintance calls upon them, of course in his tone of ex- with just and regular dramas."* She gives aggeration and ridicule, to render faithfully a speech of Lear, and says, "Thus it is certain passages which they have slurred that Shakspeare redeems the nonsense, the over. But Voltaire avows the support which indecorums, the irregularities of his plays." he receives from the English themselves in Again, in her criticism on 'Macbeth:”—“Our his condemnation of what he holds to be author is too much addicted to the obscure the absurdities of Shakspere, quoting from bombast much affected by all sorts of writers Marmontel in this matter:-"The English in that age. There are many bombast have learned to correct and abridge Shak- speeches in the tragedy of Macbeth,' and spere. Garrick has banished from his scene the these are the lawful prize of the critic." Grave-diggers in 'Hamlet,' and has omitted The exhibition of the fickle humour of the nearly all the fifth act." Voltaire then adds, mob in Julius Cæsar' is not to be "entirely ___“The translator agrees not with this truth; condemned." "The quarrel between Brutus he takes the part of the gravediggers; he and Cassius does not, by any means, deserve would preserve them as a respectable monu- the ridicule thrown upon it by the French ment of an unique genius." The critic then critic: ... but it rather retards than gives a scene of 'Bajazet,' contrasting it brings forward the catastrophe, and is usewith the opening scene of 'Romeo and Juliet.' ful only in setting Brutus in a good light.” "It is for you," he says to the Academicians, One more extract from Mrs. Montagu, and "to decide which method we ought to follow we have done:-"It has been demonstrated -that of Shakspere, the god of tragedy, or with great ingenuity and candour that he of Racine." In a similar way he contrasts was destitute of learning: the age was rude a passage in Corneille and Lear:'-"Let the and void of taste; but what had a still more Academicians judge if the nation which has pernicious influence on his works was, that produced 'Iphigénie' and 'Athalie' ought to the court and the universities, the statesabandon them, to behold men and women men and scholars, affected a scientific jargon. strangled upon the stage, street-porters, An obscurity of expression was thought the sorcerers, buffoons, and drunken priests-if veil of wisdom and knowledge; and that our court, so long renowned for its politeness mist, common to the morn and eve of and its taste, ought to be changed into an literature, which in fact proves it is not at alehouse and a wine-shop." In this letter to its high meridian, was affectedly thrown over the Academy Voltaire loses his temper and the writings, and even the conversation of his candour. He is afraid to risk any ad- the learned, who often preferred images dismiration of Shakspere. But this intolerance torted or magnified, to a simple exposition is more intelligible than the apologies of of their thoughts. Shakspeare is never more Shakspere's defenders in England. We must worthy of the true critic's censure than in confess that we have more sympathy with those instances in which he complies with Voltaire's earnest attack upon Shakspere this false pomp of manner. It was parthan with Mrs. MONTAGU's maudlin defence. * Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakspeare.' donable in a man of his rank not to be more polite and delicate than his contemporaries; but we cannot so easily excuse such superiority of talents for stooping to any affectation." This half-patronising, halfvindicating tone is very well meant; and we respect Mrs. Montagu for coming forward to break a lance with the great European critic; but the very celebrity of Shakspere's "fair warrior" is one of the proofs that there was no real school of criticism amongst us. 6 Apologies for Shakspere, lamentations over his defects, explanations of the causes of them, rude age, unlettered audience, the poet himself working without knowledge,—all this, the invariable language of the English critics, is eagerly laid hold of, not only to justify the hostility of Voltaire, but to perpetuate the reign of a system altogether opposed to the system of Shakspere, up to the present hour. M. Villemain, in the new edition of his Essay upon Shakspeare,' published in 1839, gives us as much interjectional eulogy of our national poet as might satisfy the most eager appetite of those admirers who think such praise worth anything. The French critic, of nearly a century later than Voltaire, holds that Shakspere has no other system than his genius. It is in this chaos that we must seek his splendour. His absurdities, his buffooneries, belong to the gross theatre of his period. In judging Shakspere we must reject the mass of barbarism and false taste with which he is surcharged. But then, apart from any system, "quelle passion! quelle poésie ! quelle éloquence ! " "This rude and barbarous genius discovers an unknown delicacy in the development of his female characters." And why? "The taste which is so often missing in him is here supplied by a delicate instinct, which makes him even anticipate what was wanting to the civilization of his time." The critic reposes somewhat on English authority: -"Mrs. Montagu has repelled the contempt of Voltaire by a judicious criticism of some defects of the French theatre, but she cannot palliate the enormous extravagancies of the pieces of Shakspere. Let us not forget, she says, that these pieces were played in a miserable inn before an unlettered audience, Always therefore study Nature. "It is she who was thy book, O Shakspeare; it is she who was thy study day and night; it is she from whom thou hast drawn those beauties which are at once the glory and delight of thy nation. Thou wert the eldest son, the darling child, of nature; and like thy mother, enchanting, astonishing, sublime, graceful, thy variety is inexhaustible. Always original, always new, thou art the only prodigy which nature has produced. Homer was the first of men, but thou art more than man. The reader who thinks this eulogium extravagant is a stranger to my subject. To say that Shakspeare had the imagination of Dante, and the depth of Machiavel, would be a weak encomium: he had them and more. To say that he possessed the terrible graces of Michael Angelo, and the amiable graces of Correggio, would be a weak encomium: he had them, and more. To the brilliancy of Voltaire he added the strength of Demosthenes; and to the simplicity of La Fontaine the majesty of Virgil.-But, say you, we have never seen such a being.' You are in the right; Nature made it, and broke the mould.” This is the first page of 'A Fragment on Shakspeare' (1786). The following is an extract from the last page:— "The only view of Shakspeare was to make his fortune, and for that it was necessary to fill the playhouse. At the same time that he caused a duchess to enter the boxes, he would cause her servants to enter the pit. The people have always money; to make them spend it, they must be diverted; and Shakspeare forced his sublime genius to stoop to the gross taste of the populace, as Sylla jested with his soldiers." * Essai sur Shakspeare, Paris, 1839. DAVID HUME, the most popular historian | point, and viewing all the parts as so many of England, thus writes of Shakspere :- irradiations from it. Hence, nothing is so "Born in a rude age and educated in the rare as a critic who can elevate himself to lowest manner, without any instruction either the contemplation of an extensive work of from the world or from books." The con- art. Shakspere's compositions, from the very sequence of this national and individual depth of purpose displayed in them, have ignorance was a necessary one :-" A reason- been exposed to the misfortune of being able propriety of thought he cannot for any misunderstood. Besides, this prosaical species time uphold." What right have we to abuse of criticism applies always the poetical form Voltaire, when we hear this from an English to the details of execution; but, in so far writer of the same period? We fully agree as the plan of the piece is concerned, it with Schlegel in this matter: "That never looks for more than the logical conforeigners, and Frenchmen in particular, who nection of causes and effects, or some partial frequently speak in the most strange language and trivial moral by way of application; and of antiquity and the middle ages, as if all that cannot be reconciled to this is cannibalism had been first put an end to in declared a superfluous, or even a detrimental, Europe by Louis XIV., should entertain this addition. On these principles we must opinion of Shakspere, might be pardonable; equally strike out most of the choral songs but that Englishmen should adopt such a of the Greek tragedies, which also contribute calumniation of that glorious epoch of their nothing to the development of the action, history, in which the foundation of their but are merely an harmonious echo of the greatness was laid, is to me incompre- impression aimed at by the poet. In this hensible." ""* But it is not wholly incom- they altogether mistake the rights of poetry prehensible. Schlegel has in part explained and the nature of the romantic drama, which, it:"I have elsewhere examined into the for the very reason that it is and ought to be pretensions of modern cultivation, as it is picturesque, requires richer accompaniments called, which looks down with such contempt and contrasts for its main groups. In all on all preceding ages. I have shown that it art and poetry, but more especially in the is all little, superficial, and unsubstantial at romantic, the fancy lays claim to be conbottom. The pride of what has been called sidered as an independent mental power the present maturity of human reason has governed according to its own laws." come to a miserable end; and the structures erected by those pedagogues of the human race have fallen to pieces like the babyhouses of children." So far, of the critical contempt of the age of Shakspere. Schlegel again, with equal truth, lays bare the real character of the same critical opinions of the poet himself:-"It was, generally speaking, the prevailing tendency of the time which preceded our own, a tendency displayed also in physical science, to consider what is possessed of life as a mere accumulation of dead parts; to separate what exists only in connection and cannot otherwise be conceived, instead of penetrating to the central * Lectures on Dramatic Literature,' Black's translation. The translation of Schlegel's work in 1815, in conjunction with the admirable lectures of Coleridge, gave a new direction amongst the thinking few to our national opinion of Shakspere. Other critics of a higher school than our own race of commentators had preceded Schlegel in Germany; and it would be perhaps not too much to say that, as the reverent study of Shakspere has principally formed their æsthetic school, so that æsthetic school has sent us back to the reverent study of Shakspere. He lived in the hearts of the people, who knew nothing of the English critics. The learned, as they were called, understood him least. Let the lovers of truth rejoice that their despotism is over. CHAPTER V. CAPELL.-FARMER.-STEEVENS.-MALONE.-GARRICK.-RICHARDSON.-MOR GANN. WHATELY.--PERCY.-WARTON.-LAMB.-HAZLITT.—COLERIDGE. OUR notice of Shakspere's critics has now and Chalmers were mere supervisors and abridgers of what they did. The edition of CAPELL was published in The English editors of Shakspere have ten small octavo volumes, three years after certainly brought to their task a great variety that of Johnson-that is, in 1768. His of qualities, from which combination we preface is printed in what we call the might expect some very felicitous results. variorum editions of Shakspere, but Steevens They divide themselves into two schools, has added to it this depreciating note :— which, like all schools, have their sub- "Dr. Johnson's opinion of this performance divisions. Rowe, Pope, Theobald, Hanmer, may be known from the following passage in Johnson, belong to the school which did not Mr. Boswell's 'Life of Dr. Johnson;'-' If seek any very exact acquaintance with our the man would have come to me, I would early literature; and which probably would have endeavoured to endow his purpose have despised the exhibition, if not the with words, for, as it is, he doth gabble reality, of antiquarian and bibliographical | monstrously."" Certainly "the man does knowledge. A new school arose, whose acquaintance with what has been called black-letter literature was extensive enough to produce a decided revolution in Shaksperean commentary. Capell, Steevens, Malone, Reed, Douce, are the representatives of the later school. The first school contained the most brilliant men; the second, the most painstaking commentators. The dullest of the first school,-a name hung up amongst the dunces by his rival editor,-poor, piddling Tibbald," was unquestionably the best of the first race of editors. Rowe was indolent; Pope, flashy; Warburton, paradoxical; Johnson, pedantic. Theobald brought his common sense to the task, and has left us, we cannot avoid thinking, the best of all the conjectural emendations. Of the other school, the real learning, and sometimes sound judgment, of Capell, is buried in an obscurity of thought and style, to say nothing of his comment being printed separately from his text,-which puts all ordinary reading for purposes of information at complete defiance. Of Steevens and Malone, they have had, more or less, the glory of having linked themselves to Shakspere during the last half century. Reed 66 -- write a most extraordinary style; and it is impossible to do full justice to his edition, from the great bulk of the notes and various readings "being published in a separate form," with references to previous editors so obscure and perplexed that few would take the trouble to attempt to reach his meaning. Capell was a man of fortune; and he devoted a life to this labour, dying in the midst of it. Steevens never mentions him but to insult him; and amongst the heaps of the most trashy notes that encumber the variorum editions, raked together from the pamphlets of every dabbler in commentary, there is perhaps not one single-minded quotation from Capell. John Collins, the publisher of his posthumous Notes and Various Readings, brings a charge against Steevens which may account for this unrelenting hostility to a learned and amiable man labouring in a pursuit common to them both. He says that Capell's edition "is made the groundwork of what is to pass for the genuine production of these combined editors (Johnson and Steevens). This, he says, may be proved by a comparison of their first edition of 1773 with that of Johnson's of 1765, Capell's having been published during the interval. N N |
