This selection is from the “Lectures on the English Poets.” At the beginning of his lecture on Shakespeare and Milton, Hazlitt maintains that the arts reach their perfection in the early periods and are not continually progressive like the sciences—an idea which he frequently comes back to in his writings, notably in the “Round Table” paper, “Why the Arts are not Progressive.”
P. 34. the fault, etc. Cf. “Julius Cæsar,” i, 2, 140.
Shakspeare as they would be. Hazlitt may have had in mind Dr. Johnson’s comment in his preface to Shakespeare’s works: “the event which he represents will not happen, but if it were possible, its effect would probably be such as he had assigned; he has not only shewn human nature as it acts in real exigencies, but as it would be found in trials to which it cannot be exposed.” (Nichol Smith: “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” p. 117.)
P. 35. its generic quality. Coleridge applied the epithet “myriad-minded” to Shakespeare. See also Schlegel’s “Lectures on the Drama.” ed. Bohn, p. 363: “Never perhaps was there so comprehensive a talent for characterization as Shakespeare. It not only grasps the diversity of rank, age, and sex, down to the lispings of infancy; not only do the king and the beggar, the hero and the pickpocket, the sage and the idiot, speak and act with equal truthfulness ... his human characters have not only such depth and individuality that they do not admit of being classed under common names, and are inexhaustible even in conception; no, this Prometheus not merely forms men, he opens the gates of the magical world of spirits, calls up the midnight ghost, exhibits before us the witches with their unhallowed rites, peoples the air with sportive fairies and sylphs; and these beings, though existing only in the imagination, nevertheless possess such truth and consistency, that even with such misshapen abortions as Caliban, he extorts the assenting conviction, that were there such beings they would so conduct themselves. In a word, as he carries a bold and pregnant fancy into the kingdom of nature, on the other hand, he carries nature into the region of fancy, which lies beyond the confines of reality. We are lost in astonishment at the close intimacy he brings us into with the extraordinary, the wonderful, and the unheard-of.”
a mind reflecting ages past. “These words occur in the first lines of a laudatory poem on Shakespeare printed in the second folio (1632). The poem is signed ‘J. M. S.’ and was attributed by Coleridge to ‘John Milton, Student.’ See his ‘Lectures on Shakespeare’ (ed. T. Ashe), pp. 129-130.” Waller-Glover, IV, 411.
P. 36. All corners, etc. “Cymbeline.” iii. 4, 39.
nodded to him. “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” iii, I, 177.
his so potent art. “Tempest,” v, i, 50.
When he conceived of a character, etc. Cf. Maurice Morgann, “On the Character of Falstaff”: “But it was not enough for Shakespeare to have formed his characters with the most perfect truth and coherence; it was further necessary that he should possess a wonderful facility of compressing, as it were, his own spirit into these images, and of giving alternate animation to the forms. This was not to be done from without; he must have felt every varied situation, and have spoken thro’ the organ he had formed. Such an intuitive comprehension of things and such a facility must unite to produce a Shakespeare.” (Nichol Smith: “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” p. 247, n.)
subject to the same skyey influences. Cf. “Measure for Measure,” iii, I, 9: “servile to all the skyey influences.”
his frequent haunts. Cf. “Comus,” 314: “my daily walks and ancient neighborhood.”
P. 37. coheres semblably together. Cf. 2 “Henry IV,” v, i, 72: “to see the semblable coherence.”
It has been ingeniously remarked, by Coleridge, “Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton,” p. 116: “The power of poetry is, by a single word perhaps, to instil that energy into the mind, which compels the imagination to produce the picture.... Here, by introducing a single happy epithet, ‘crying,’ a complete picture is presented to the mind, and in the production of such pictures the power of genius consists.”
me and thy crying self. “Tempest,” i, 2, 132.
What! man. “Macbeth,” iv, 3, 208.
Rosencrans. The early editions consistently misspell this name Rosencraus.
Man delights not me. “Hamlet,” ii, 2, 321.
a combination and a form. “Hamlet,” iii, 4, 60.
P. 39. There is a willow, etc. See “Hamlet,” iv, 7, 167:
“There is a willow grows aslant a brook
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.”
Now this is an instance, etc. Hazlitt elsewhere ascribes this observation to Lamb. See p. 83, n.
He’s speaking now. “Antony and Cleopatra,” i, 5, 24.
It is my birthday. Ibid., iii, 13, 185.
P. 41. nigh sphered in heaven. Collins’s “Ode on the Poetical Character.”
to make society. “Macbeth,” iii, 1, 42.
P. 42. with a little act. “Othello,” iii, 3, 328.
P. 43. while rage. “Troilus and Cressida,” i, 3, 52.
in their untroubled elements, etc. Cf. Wordsworth’s “Excursion,” VI, 763-766:
“That glorious star
In its untroubled element will shine
As now it shines, when we are laid in earth
And safe from all our sorrows.”
Satan’s address to the sun. “Paradise Lost,” IV, 31.
Oh that I were. “Richard II,” iv, 1, 260.
P. 44. His form. “Paradise Lost,” I, 591-594.
P. 45. With what measure. Mark, iv, 24; Luke, vi, 38.
It glances. “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” v, 1, 13.
puts a girdle. Ibid., ii, 1, 175.
I ask. “Troilus and Cressida,” i, 3, 227.
No man. Ibid., iii, 3, 15.
P. 46. Rouse yourself. Ibid., iii, 3, 222.
In Shakspeare, any other word, etc. In the essay “On Application to Study,” in the “Plain Speaker,” Hazlitt gives further illustrations of this point.
P. 47. Light thickens. “Macbeth,” iii, 2, 50.
the business of the state. “Othello,” iv, 2, 166.
Of ditties highly penned. 1 “Henry IV,” iii, 1, 209.
And so. “Two Gentlemen of Verona,” ii, 7, 31.
The universality of his genius, etc. Cf. “On Gusto,” “Round Table”: “The infinite quality of dramatic invention in Shakspeare takes from his gusto. The power he delights to show is not intense, but discursive. He never insists on anything as much as he might, except a quibble.”
P. 48. He wrote for the great vulgar, etc. The same remark had been made by both Pope and Johnson. See Nichol Smith’s “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” pp, 49 and 141.
the great vulgar and the small. Cowley’s “Translation of Horace’s Ode III, i.”
his delights. “Antony and Cleopatra,” v, 2, 88.
P. 49. His tragedies are better than his comedies. Hazlitt is here deliberately opposing the view of Dr. Johnson expressed in the latter’s preface to Shakespeare: “In tragedy he often writes with great appearance of toil and study, what is written at last with little felicity; but in his comick scenes, he seems to produce without labour, what no labour can improve. In tragedy he is always struggling after some occasion to be comick, but in comedy he seems to repose, or to luxuriate, as in a mode of thinking congenial to his nature. In his tragick scenes there is always something wanting, but his comedy often surpasses expectation or desire.” (Nichol Smith’s “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” p. 121.) In the second lecture of the “English Comic Writers,” Hazlitt recurs to this opinion of Johnson’s with the following comment: “For my own part, I so far consider this preference given to the comic genius of the poet as erroneous and unfounded, that I should say that he is the only tragic poet in the world in the highest sense, as being on a par with, and the same as Nature, in her greatest heights and depths of action and suffering. There is but one who durst walk within that mighty circle, treading the utmost bound of nature and passion, showing us the dread abyss of woe in all its ghastly shapes and colours, and laying open all the faculties of the human soul to act, to think, and suffer, in direst extremities; whereas I think, on the other hand, that in comedy, though his talents there too were as wonderful as they were delightful, yet that there were some before him, others on a level with him, and many close behind him.... There is not only nothing so good (in my judgment) as Hamlet, or Lear, or Othello, or Macbeth, but there is nothing like Hamlet, or Lear, or Othello, or Macbeth. There is nothing, I believe, in the majestic Corneille, equal to the stern pride of Coriolanus, or which gives such an idea of the crumbling in pieces of the Roman grandeur, ‘like an unsubstantial pageant faded,’ as the Antony and Cleopatra. But to match the best serious comedies, such as Molière’s Misanthrope and his Tartuffe, we must go to Shakspeare’s tragic characters, the Timon of Athens or honest Iago, where we shall more than succeed. He put his strength into his tragedies and played with comedy. He was greatest in what was greatest; and his forte was not trifling, according to the opinion here combated, even though he might do that as well as any one else, unless he could do it better than anybody else.” See also p. 99.
P. 51. Dr. Johnson is of opinion. “It may be observed that in many of his plays the latter part is evidently neglected. When he found himself near the end of his work, and in view of his reward, he shortened the labour to snatch the profit. He therefore remits his efforts where he should most vigorously exert them, and his catastrophe is improbably produced or imperfectly represented.” (Nichol Smith: “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” p. 123.)
It is the peculiar excellence, etc. Cf. Coleridge’s Works, IV, 75-76: “In Shakespeare all the elements of womanhood are holy, and there is the sweet, yet dignified feeling of all that continuates society, a sense of ancestry and of sex, with a purity unassailable by sophistry, because it rests not in the analytic process, but in that sane equipoise of the faculties, during which the feelings are representative of all past experience,—not of the individual only, but of all those by whom she has been educated, and their predecessors even up to the first mother that lived. Shakespeare saw that the want of prominence which Pope notices for sarcasm, was the blessed beauty of the woman’s character, and knew that it arose not from any deficiency, but from the exquisite harmony of all the parts of the moral being constituting one living total of head and heart. He has drawn it indeed in all its distinctive energies of faith, patience, constancy, fortitude,—shown in all of them as following the heart, which gives its results by a nice tact and happy intuition, without the intervention of the discursive faculty, sees all things in and by the light of the affections, and errs, if it ever err, in the exaggerations of love alone.”
P. 52. Cibber, in speaking. See “Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber” (1740), I, iv.
My lord. i, 6, 112.
P. 53. What cheer. iii, 4, 41. The six quotations following are in the same scene.
P. 54. My dear lord. iii, 6, 14.
And when with wild wood-leaves. iv, 2, 389.
P. 55. With fairest flowers. iv, 2, 218.
Cytherea, how bravely. ii, 2, 14.
Me of my lawful pleasure. ii, 5, 9.
P. 56. whose love-suit. iii, 4, 136.
the ancient critic. Aristophanes of Byzantium, who lived in the third century before the Christian era.
the principle of analogy. This point is enforced by Hazlitt in connection with “Lear,” “The Tempest,” “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and “As You Like It.” Coleridge had previously remarked, “A unity of feeling and character pervades every drama of Shakespeare” (Works IV, 61), and Schlegel had written in the same manner concerning “Romeo and Juliet”: “The sweetest and the bitterest love and hatred, festive rejoicings and dark forebodings, tender embraces and sepulchral horrors, the fulness of life and self-annihilation, are here all brought close to each other; and yet these contrasts are so blended into a unity of impression, that the echo which the whole leaves behind in the mind resembles a single but endless sigh.” (ed. Bohn, p. 401).
P. 57. Out of your proof. iii, 3, 27.
P. 58. The game’s afoot. “The game is up,” iii, 3, 107.
Under the shade. “As You Like It,” ii, 7, 111.
P. 59. See, boys. “Stoop, boys,” iii, 3, 2.
Nay, Cadwell. iv, 2, 255.
Stick to your journal course. iv, 2, 10.
Your highness. i, 5, 23.
P. 60. The poet’s eye. “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” v, 1, 12.
your only tragedy-maker. An adaptation of “your only jig-maker,” “Hamlet,” iii, 2, 132.
the air smells wooingly, the temple-haunting martlet. i, 6, 4-6.
blasted heath. i, 3, 77.
air-drawn dagger. iii, 4, 62.
the gracious Duncan. iii, 1, 66.
P. 61. blood-boultered Banquo. iv, 1, 123.
What are these. i, 3, 39.
bends up. i, 7, 80.
P. 62. The deed. Cf. ii, 2, 11: “The attempt and not the deed confounds us.”
preter[super]natural solicitings. i, 3, 130.
Bring forth. i, 7, 73.
P. 63. Screw his courage. i, 7, 60.
lost so poorly. Cf. ii, 2, 71: “Be not lost so poorly in your thoughts.”
a little water. ii, 2, 68.
the sides of his intent. i, 7, 26.
for their future days and nights. Cf. i, 5, 70: “To all our days and nights to come.” The next five quotations are from the same scene.
P. 64. Mrs. Siddons. Sarah Siddons (1775-1831), “The Tragic Muse,” the most celebrated actress in the history of the English stage. Hazlitt wrote this passage for the Examiner (June 16, 1816) immediately after seeing a performance of the part by Mrs. Siddons. See Works, VIII, 312-373.
P. 65. There is no art. i, 4, 11.
How goes the night. ii, 1, 1.
P. 66. Light thickens. iii, 2, 50.
Now spurs. iii, 3, 6.
P. 67. So fair and foul a day. i, 3, 38.
such welcome and unwelcome news together. Cf. iv, 3, 138: “such welcome and unwelcome things at once.”
Men’s lives are. Cf. iv, 3, 171:
“and good men’s lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.”
Look like the innocent flower. i, 5, 66.
to him and all, “to all and him.” iii, 4, 91.
Avaunt and quit my sight. iii, 4, 93.
himself again. Cf. iii, 4, 107: “being gone, I am a man again.”
he may sleep. iv, 1, 86.
Then be thou jocund. iii, 2, 40.
Had he not resembled. ii, 2, 13.
should be women. i, 3. 45.
in deeper consequence. i, 3, 126.
Why stands. iv, 1, 125.
P. 68. He is as distinct a being, etc. Cf. Pope (Nichol Smith’s “Eighteenth Century Essays,” p. 48): “Every single character in Shakespeare is as much an individual as those in life itself; it is impossible to find any two alike; and such as from their relation or affinity appear most to be twins, will upon comparison be found remarkably distinct.” Beattie also had commented on “that wonderfully penetrating and plastic faculty, which is capable of representing every species of character, not as our ordinary poets do, by a high shoulder, a wry mouth, or gigantic stature, but by hitting off, with a delicate hand, the distinguishing feature, and that in such a manner as makes it easily known from all others whatsoever, however similar to a superficial eye.” (Quoted in Drake’s “Memorials of Shakespeare,” 1828, p. 255.) Richard Cumberland had developed a parallel between Macbeth and Richard III in the Observer, Nos. 55-58, but it is to the suggestion of Thomas Whateley that Hazlitt is chiefly indebted. Both Richard III and Macbeth, says Whateley, “are soldiers, both usurpers; both attain the throne by the same means, by treason and murder; and both lose it too in the same manner, in battle against the person claiming it as lawful heir. Perfidy, violence, and tyranny are common to both; and these only, their obvious qualities, would have been attributed indiscriminately to both by an ordinary dramatic writer. But Shakespeare, in conformity to the truth of history as far as it led him, and by improving upon the fables which have been blended with it, has ascribed opposite principles and motives to the same designs and actions, and various effects to the operation of the same events upon different tempers. Richard and Macbeth, as represented by him, agree in nothing but their fortunes.” (See the Variorum edition of “Richard III,” p. 549.) Hazlitt makes similar discriminations between the characters of Iago and Richard III, between Henry VI and Richard II, and between Ariel and Puck.
the milk of human kindness. i, 5, 18.
himself alone. Cf. 3 “Henry VI,” v, 6, 83: “I am myself alone.”
P. 69. For Banquo’s issue. iii, 1, 65.
Duncan is in his grave. iii, 2, 22.
direness is rendered familiar. v, 5, 14.
troubled with thick coming fancies. v, 3, 38.
P. 70. subject to all. “Measure for Measure,” iii, 1, 9.
My way of life. v, 3, 22.
P. 71. Lillo, George (1693-1739), author of several “bourgeois” tragedies of which the best known is “George Barnwell” (1731).
Specimens of Early English Dramatic Poets by Charles Lamb, 1808. (Works, ed. Lucas, IV, 144.)
P. 73. What a full fortune and Here is her father’s house. i, 1, 66-74
P. 74. I cannot believe. i, 1, 254.
And yet how nature. iii, 3, 227.
milk of human kindness. “Macbeth,” i, 5, 18.
relish of salvation. “Hamlet,” iii, 3, 92.
Oh, you are well tuned. ii, 1, 202.
P. 75. My noble lord. iii, 3, 92.
O grace. iii, 3, 373.
P. 76. How is it. iv, 1, 60.
Zanga, in the “Revenge” (1721), a tragedy by Edward Young (1683-1765).
P. 76. This goodly frame and Man delighted not. ii, 2, 310-321.
P. 77. too much i’ th’ sun. i, 2, 67.
the pangs. iii, 1, 72.
P. 78. There is no attempt to force an interest. Professor Saintsbury (“History of Criticism,” III, 258) calls this utterance an apex of Shakespearian criticism. Hazlitt makes a similar comment in the character of “Troilus and Cressida”: “He has no prejudice for or against his characters: he saw both sides of a question; at once an actor and a spectator in the scene.” Dr. Johnson had observed this attitude in Shakespeare, but he had seen in it a violation of the demands of poetic justice: “he carries his persons indifferently through right and wrong, and at the close dismisses them without further care, and leaves their examples to operate by chance. This fault the barbarity of his age cannot extenuate; for it is always a writer’s duty to make the world better, and justice is a virtue independent on time or place.” (Nichol Smith’s “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” p. 123.)
outward pageant. Cf. i, 2, 86: “the trappings and the suits of woe.”
we have that within. i, 2, 85.
P. 79. He kneels. Cf. iii, 3, 73: “Now might I do it pat, now he is praying.”
P. 80. How all occasions. iv, 4, 32.
P. 81. that noble and liberal casuist. Doubtless suggested by Lamb’s description of the old English dramatists as “those noble and liberal casuists.” (Works, ed. Lucas, I, 46.)
The Whole Duty of Man, a popular treatise of morals (1659).
Academy of Compliments, or the Whole Duty of Courtship, being the nearest or most exact way of wooing a Maid or Widow, by the way of Dialogue or Complimental Expressions (1655, 1669).
The neglect of punctilious exactness, etc. The entire passage follows pretty closely the interpretation of Lamb: “Among the distinguishing features of that wonderful character, one of the most interesting (yet painful) is that soreness of mind which makes him treat the intrusions of Polonius with harshness, and that asperity which he puts on in his interviews with Ophelia. These tokens of an unhinged mind (if they be not mixed in the latter case with a profound artifice of love, to alienate Ophelia by affected discourtesies, so to prepare her mind for the breaking off of that loving intercourse, which can no longer find a place amidst business so serious as that which he has to do) are parts of his character, which to reconcile with our admiration of Hamlet, the most patient consideration of his situation is no more than necessary; they are what we forgive afterwards, and explain by the whole of his character, but at the time they are harsh and unpleasant.... [His behavior toward Ophelia] is not alienation, it is a distraction purely, and so it always makes itself to be felt by that object: it is not anger, but grief assuming the appearance of anger,—love awkwardly counterfeiting hate, as sweet countenances when they try to frown.” “On the Tragedies of Shakespeare.” (Works, ed. Lucas, I, 103-104)
He may be said to be amenable, etc. Cf. Coleridge (Works, IV, 145): “His thoughts, and the images of his fancy, are far more vivid than his actual perceptions, and his very perceptions, instantly passing through the medium of his contemplations, acquire, as they pass, a form and a colour not naturally their own. Hence we see a great, an almost enormous, intellectual activity, and a proportionate aversion to real action, consequent upon it, with all its symptoms and accompanying qualities.”
P. 82. his father’s spirit. i, 2, 255.
I loved Ophelia. v, 1, 292.
Sweets to the sweet. v, 1, 266.
P. 83. There is a willow. See p. 39.
our author’s plays acted. See pp. 70, 87.
P. 84. Kemble, John Philip (1757-1823), younger brother to Mrs. Siddons and noted as the leader of the stately school in tragedy. Hazlitt often contrasted his manner with that of Kean: “We wish we had never seen Mr. Kean. He has destroyed the Kemble religion; and it is the religion in which we were brought up.” Works, VIII, 345.
a wave o’ th’ sea. “Winter’s Tale,” iv, 4, 141.
Kean, Edmund (1787-1833), the great English tragic actor whom Hazlitt was instrumental in discovering for the London public. Shylock and Othello were his most successful roles. For accounts of his various performances, see “A View of the English Stage” (Works, VIII). Most of the points in this essay are reproduced from the notice of Kean’s Hamlet (VIII, 185-189).
This extract is the opening paragraph of the sketch.
P. 84. a great critic, A. W. Schlegel. The passage alluded to by Hazlitt appears in Coleridge’s Works (IV, 60-61) in what is little more than a free translation: “Read ‘Romeo and Juliet’;—all is youth and spring;—youth with its follies, its virtues, its precipitancies;—spring with its odors, its flowers, and its transiency; it is one and the same feeling that commences, goes through, and ends the play. The old men, the Capulets and the Montagues, are not common old men; they have an eagerness, a heartiness, a vehemence, the effect of spring; with Romeo, his change of passion, his sudden marriage, and his rash death, are all the effects of youth;—whilst in Juliet love has all that is tender and melancholy in the nightingale, all that is voluptuous in the rose, with whatever is sweet in the freshness of the spring; but it ends with a long deep sigh like the last breeze of the Italian evening.”
P. 85. fancies wan. Cf. “Lycidas,” “cowslips wan.”
These extracts are the second and last paragraphs of the essay.
P. 85. Lord, what fools. iii, 2, 115.
P. 86. human mortals. ii, 1, 101.
gorgons and hydras. “Paradise Lost,” II, 628.
a celebrated person, Sir Humphry Davy; see p. 342. Cf. Coleridge (Works, IV, 66): “Shakespeare was not only a great poet, but a great philosopher.”
P. 87. Poetry and the stage. Cf. Lamb, “On the Tragedies of Shakespeare” (ed. Lucas, I, 110): “Spirits and fairies cannot be represented, they cannot even be painted,—they can only be believed. But the elaborate and anxious provision of scenery, which the luxury of the age demands, in these cases works a quite contrary effect to what is intended. That which in comedy, or plays of familiar life, adds so much to the life of the imitation, in plays which appeal to the higher faculties, positively destroys the illusion which it is introduced to aid.”
Hazlitt’s interpretation of Falstaff is worth comparing with that of Maurice Morgann in “An Essay on the Dramatic Character of Sir John Falstaff,” although Hazlitt does not allude to Morgann’s essay and is supposed to have had no knowledge of it. “To me then it appears that the leading quality in Falstaff’s character, and that from which all the rest take their colour, is a high degree of wit and humour, accompanied with great natural vigour and alacrity of mind.... He seems, by nature, to have had a mind free of malice or any evil principle; but he never took the trouble of acquiring any good one. He found himself esteemed and beloved with all his faults; nay for his faults, which were all connected with humour, and for the most part grew out of it. As he had, possibly, no vices but such as he thought might be openly confessed, so he appeared more dissolute thro’ ostentation. To the character of wit and humour, to which all his other qualities seem to have conformed themselves, he appears to have added a very necessary support, that of the profession of a Soldier.... Laughter and approbation attend his greatest excesses; and being governed visibly by no settled bad principle or ill design, fun and humour account for and cover all. By degrees, however, and thro’ indulgence, he acquires bad habits, becomes an humourist, grows enormously corpulent, and falls into the infirmities of age; yet never quits, all the time, one single levity or vice of youth, or loses any of that cheerfulness of mind which had enabled him to pass thro’ this course with ease to himself and delight to others; and thus, at last, mixing youth and age, enterprize and corpulency, wit and folly, poverty and expence, title and buffoonery, innocence as to purpose, and wickedness as to practice; neither incurring hatred by bad principle, or contempt by cowardice, yet involved in circumstances productive of imputation in both; a butt and a wit, a humourist and a man of humour, a touchstone and a laughing stock, a jester and a jest, has Sir John Falstaff, taken at that period of life in which we see him, become the most perfect comic character that perhaps ever was exhibited.” (Nichol Smith’s “Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare,” 226-7.)
P. 88. we behold. Cf. Colossians, ii, 9; “in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.”
lards the lean earth. 1 “Henry IV,” ii, 2, 116.
into thin air. “Tempest,” iv, 1, 150.
three fingers deep. Cf. 1 “Henry IV,” iv, 2, 80: “three fingers on the ribs.”
P. 89. it snows. Chaucer’s Prologue to the “Canterbury Tales,” 345.
ascends me. 2 “Henry IV,” iv, 3, 105.
a tun of man. 1 “Henry IV,” ii, 4, 493.
P. 91. open, palpable. Cf. 1 “Henry IV,” ii, 4, 248: “These lies are like their father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable.”
By the lord. Ibid., i, 2, 44.
But Hal. Ibid., i, 2, 91.
P. 92. who grew. Cf. ii, 4, 243: “eleven buckram men grown out of two.”
Harry, I do not. ii, 4, 439.
P. 94. What is the gross sum. 2 “Henry IV,” ii, 1, 91.
P. 95. Would I were with him. “Henry V,” ii, 3, 6.
turning his vices. Cf. 2 “Henry IV,” i, 2, 277: “I will turn diseases to commodity.”
their legs. Ibid., ii, 4, 265.
a man made after supper. Ibid., iii, 2, 332.
Would, Cousin Silence. Ibid., iii, 2, 225.
I did not think. Ibid., v, 3, 40.
in some authority. Ibid., v, 3, 117.
You have here. Ibid., v, 3, 6.
P. 96. It aims at the ludicrous. Cf. Hazlitt’s remark in the Characters on “Much Ado About Nothing”: “Perhaps that middle point of comedy was never more nicely hit in which the ludicrous blends with the tender, and our follies, turning round against themselves in support of our affections, retain nothing but their humanity.”
P. 97. William Congreve (1670-1729), William Wycherley (1640-1716), Sir John Vanbrugh (1664-1726), the chief masters of Restoration Comedy.
P. 98. high fantastical. i, 1, 15.
Wherefore are these things hid. i, 3, 133.
rouse the night-owl. ii, 3, 60.
Dost thou think. ii, 3, 123.
P. 99. We cannot agree with Dr. Johnson. See p. 49 and n.
What’s her history. ii, 4, 12.
Oh it came o’er. i, 1, 5.
P. 100. They give a very echo. ii, 4, 21.
Blame not this haste. iv, 3, 22.
The essay concludes with the quotation of one of the songs and Malvolio’s reading of the letter.
P. 101. Blind Thamyris. “Paradise Lost,” III, 35.
P. 102. with darkness. VII, 27.
piling up every stone. XI, 324.
For after I had from my first years. “The Reason of Church Government,” Book II, Introduction.
P. 103. The noble heart. “Faërie Queene,” I, v, 1.
P. 104. makes Ossa like a wart. “Hamlet,” v, 1, 306.
Him followed Rimmon. “Paradise Lost,” I, 467.
As when a vulture. III, 431.
P. 105. the pilot. I, 204.
It has been indeed objected to Milton. Cf. Coleridge (Works, ed. Shedd, IV, 304): “Milton is not a picturesque, but a musical, poet”; also Coleridge’s “Table Talk,” August 7, 1832: “It is very remarkable that in no part of his writings does Milton take any notice of the great painters of Italy, nor, indeed, of painting as an art; while every other page breathes his love and taste for music.... Adam bending over the sleeping Eve, in Paradise Lost, and Dalilah approaching Samson, in the Agonistes, are the only two proper pictures I remember in Milton.”
Like a steam. “Comus,” 556.
P. 106. He soon saw. “Paradise Lost,” III, 621.
P. 107. With Atlantean shoulders. II, 306.
Lay floating. I, 296.
Dr. Johnson condemns the Paradise Lost. See the conclusion of his “Life of Milton.”
P. 108. His hand was known. “Paradise Lost,” I, 732.
But chief the spacious hall. I, 762.
P. 109. Round he surveys. III, 555.
Such as the meeting soul. “L’Allegro.”
the hidden soul. Ibid.
P. 110. as Pope justly observes. “First Epistle of the Second Book of Horace,” 102.
P. 111. As when Heaven’s fire. “Paradise Lost,” I, 612.
All is not lost. I, 206.
that intellectual being. II, 147.
being swallowed up. II, 149.
P. 112. Fallen cherub. I, 157.
rising aloft. I, 225.
the mystic German critics. Cf. p. 344.
P. 113. Is this the region. “Paradise Lost,” I, 242.
P. 114. Salmasius. At the request of Charles II, Claude de Saumaise (Claudius Salmasius), professor at Leyden, had written a vindication of Charles I, “Defensio pro Carolo I” (1649), to which Milton replied with the “Defensio pro Populo Anglicano” (1651). The controversy between the two is noted for the virulency of the personal invective.
with hideous ruin. “Paradise Lost,” I, 46.
retreated in a silent valley. II, 547.
a noted political writer. Dr. Stoddart, editor of the Times and brother-in-law of Hazlitt, whom the critic bitterly hated, and Napoleon are here referred to. Cf. “Political Essays,” III, 158-159.
P. 115. Longinus preferred the Iliad. “Whereas in the Iliad, which was written when his genius was in its prime, the whole structure of the poem is founded on action and struggle, in the Odyssey he generally prefers the narrative style, which is proper to old age. Hence Homer in his Odyssey may be compared to the setting sun; he is still as great as ever, but he has lost his fervent heat. The strain is now pitched in a lower key than in the ‘Tale of Troy Divine’: we begin to miss that high and equable sublimity which never flags or sinks, that continuous current of moving incidents, those rapid transitions, that force of eloquence, that opulence of imagery which is ever true to Nature. Like the sea when it retires upon itself and leaves its shores waste and bare, henceforth the tide of sublimity begins to ebb, and draws us away into the dim region of myth and legend. In saying this I am not forgetting the fine storm-pieces in the Odyssey, the story of the Cyclops, and other striking passages. It is Homer grown old I am discussing, but still it is Homer.” On the Sublime, IX, trans. Havell.
no kind of traffic. Cf. “Tempest,” ii, 1, 148.
The generations were prepared. Wordsworth’s “Excursion,” VI, 554.
the unapparent deep. “Paradise Lost,” VII, 103.
P. 116. know to know no more. Cowper’s “Truth,” 327.
They toiled not. Matthew, vi, 28.
In them the burthen. Wordsworth’s “Lines Composed above Tintern Abbey.”
such as angels weep. “Paradise Lost,” I, 620.
P. 117. In either hand. XII, 637.
This selection begins with the second paragraph of the fourth lecture on the “English Poets.”
P. 118. The question whether Pope was a poet. Hazlitt had written a paper in answer to this question in the Edinburgh Magazine for February, 1818 (Works, XII, 430-432), from which the following paragraphs down to “Such at least is the best account” are copied. The question had been previously answered by Dr. Johnson with the same common sense as by Hazlitt: “It is surely superfluous to answer the question that has once been asked, Whether Pope was a poet? otherwise than by asking in return, If Pope be not a poet, where is poetry to be found? To circumscribe poetry by a definition will only shew the narrowness of the definer, though a definition which shall exclude Pope will not easily be made.” (“Life of Pope,” ed. B. Hill, III, 251). In their edition of Pope (II, 140), Elwin and Courthope express the opinion that the doubt which both Johnson and Hazlitt felt called upon to refute “was never maintained by a single person of reputation.” Yet there is something very close to such a doubt implied in the utterances of Coleridge: “If we consider great exquisiteness of language and sweetness of metre alone, it is impossible to deny to Pope the character of a delightful writer; but whether he was a poet, must depend upon our definition of the word.... This, I must say, that poetry, as distinguished from other modes of composition, does not rest in metre, and that it is not poetry, if it make no appeal to our passions or our imagination.” (Works, ed. Shedd, IV, 56.) Pope’s verse was made the occasion of a long-winded controversy as to the relative value of the natural and artificial in poetry, lasting from 1819 to 1825, with William Bowles and Lord Byron as the principal combatants. Hazlitt contributed an article to the London Magazine for June, 1821, “Pope, Lord Byron and Mr. Bowles” (Works, XII, 486-508), in which he pointed out the fallacies in Byron’s position and censured the clerical priggishness of Bowles in treating of Pope’s life. The chief points in the discussion are best summed up in Prothero’s edition of Byron’s “Letters and Journals,” Vol. V, Appendix III.
If indeed by a great poet we mean. Cf. Introduction, p. 1.
P. 120. the pale reflex. “Romeo and Juliet,” iii, 5, 20.
P. 121. Martha Blount (1690-1762), the object of Pope’s sentimental attachment throughout his life.
In Fortune’s ray. “Troilus and Cressida,” i, 3, 47.
the gnarled oak ... the soft myrtle. “Faërie Qu.,” II, ii, 116-117.
calm contemplation. Thomson’s “Autumn,” 1275.
P. 122. More subtle web. “Faërie Queene,” II, xii, 77.
P. 123. from her fair head. “Rape of the Lock,” III, 154.
Now meet thy fate. Ibid., V, 87-96.
P. 124. Lutrin. The “Lutrin” was a mock-heroic poem (1674-1683) of the French poet and critic, Nicolas Boileau Despreaux (1636-1711), the literary dictator of the age of Louis XIV.
’Tis with our judgments. “Essay on Criticism,” I, 9.
Still green with bays. Ibid., I, 181.
P. 125. the writer’s despair. Cf. Ibid., II, 278:
“No longer now that Golden Age appears,
When Patriarch-wits survived a thousand years:
Now length of fame (our second life) is lost,
And bare threescore is all ev’n that can boast:
Our sons their fathers’ failing language see,
And such as Chaucer is shall Dryden be.”
with theirs should sail, “attendant sail.” “Essay on Man,” IV, 383-6.
P. 126. There died. “Eloisa to Abelard,” 40.
P. 127. If ever chance. Ibid., 347.
Bolingbroke. Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke (1678-1751). “The Essay plainly appears the fabric of a poet: what Bolingbroke supplied could be only the first principles; the order, illustration, and embellishments must be all Pope’s.” Pope’s Works, ed. Elwin and Courthope, II, 264.
P. 128. he spins, “draweth out.” “Love’s Labour’s Lost,” v, 1, 18.
the very words. Cf. “Macbeth,” i, 3, 88: “the selfsame tune and words.”
Now night descending. “Dunciad,” I, 89.
Virtue may choose. “Epilogue to the Satires,” Dialogue I, 137.
P. 129. character of Chartres. “Moral Essays, Epistle III.”
his compliments. See p. 322.
Where Murray. “Imitations of Horace, Epistle VI,” 52. William Murray (1705-1793), Chief Justice of England, created Lord Mansfield in 1776.
Why rail. “Epilogue to Satires,” Dialogue II, 138.
Despise low joys. “Epistle to Mr. Murray,” 60.
P. 130. character of Addison. “Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot,” 193-214.
Buckingham. George Villiers, second duke of Buckingham (1628-1687), statesman, wit, and poet.
Alas! how changed. “Moral Essays,” III, 305.
Arbuthnot, John (1667-1735), physician and man of letters, whom Thackeray introduced in attendance at the death-bed of Francis Esmond. “He had a very notable share in the immortal History of John Bull, and the inimitable and praiseworthy Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus.... Arbuthnot’s style is distinguished from that of his contemporaries, even by a greater degree of terseness and conciseness. He leaves out every superfluous word; is sparing of connecting particles, and introductory phrases; uses always the simplest forms of construction; and is more a master of the idiomatic peculiarities and internal resources of the language than almost any other writer.” “English Poets,” Lecture VI.
Charles Jervas (1675-1739) gave Pope lessons in painting. He is also known as a translator of “Don Quixote.”
Why did I write. “Epistle to Arbuthnot,” 125.
P. 131. Oh, lasting as those colours. “Epistle to Mr. Jervas,” 63.
who have eyes. Psalms, cxv, 5; cxxxv, 16, etc.
It will never do. Hazlitt was fond of mimicking this phrase with which Jeffrey so unfortunately opened his well-known review of Wordsworth’s “Excursion.”
I lisp’d in numbers. “Epistle to Arbuthnot,” 128.
Et quum conabar scribere. Cf. Ovid’s “Tristia,” IV, x, 26: “Et, quod tentabam dicere, versus erat.”
The fifth lecture on the “Comic Writers.”
P. 133. the proper study. Pope’s “Essay on Man,” II, 2.
comes home. Bacon’s dedication of the Essays.
Quicquid agunt homines. “Whatever things men do form the mixed substance of our book.” Juvenal’s “Satires,” I, 85. With occasional exceptions, this appears as the motto of the first 78 number of the Tatler.
holds the mirror. “Hamlet,” iii, 2, 24.
the act and practic. Cf. “Henry V,” i, 1, 51: “So that the art and practic part of life Must be the mistress to this theoric.”
P. 134. the web of our life. “All’s Well That Ends Well,” iv, 3, 83.
Quid sit pulchrum. “It tells us what is fair, what foul, what is useful, what not, more amply and better than Chrysippus and Crantor.” Horace’s “Epistles,” I, ii, 3-4.
Montaigne, Michel (1533-1592). “Essays,” Books I and II, 1580; Book III, 1588.
P. 135. not one of the angles. Sterne’s “Tristram Shandy,” Bk. III, Ch. 12.
P. 136. pour out. “Imitation of Horace, Satire I,” 51.
P. 136, n. more wise Charron. See Pope’s “Moral Essays,” I, 87. Pierre Charron (1541-1603), a friend of Montaigne, author of “De la Sagesse” (1601).
P. 137. Pereant isti. Ælius Donatus: St. Jerome’s Commentary on the Eucharist, ch. 1. Mr. Carr’s translation of the sentence is “Confound the fellows who have said our good things before us.” (Camelot Hazlitt.)
P. 138. Charles Cotton’s (1630-1687) translation of Montaigne was published in 1685. It was dedicated to George Savile, Marquis of Halifax (1633-1695), who spoke of the essays as “the book in the world I am best entertained with.”
Cowley, Abraham (1618-1667). “Several Discourses by way of Essays in Prose and Verse” appeared in the edition of his works in 1668.
Sir William Temple (1628-1699). His essays, entitled “Miscellanea,” were published in 1680 and 1692.
Lord Shaftesbury (1671-1713), author of “Characteristics” (1711).
P. 139. the perfect spy. “Macbeth,” iii, 1, 130.
The Tatler ran from April 12, 1709, to June 2, 1711. This paragraph and the larger portion of the next are substantially reproduced from the paper “On the Tatler” in the “Round Table.”
Isaac Bickerstaff. Under the disguise of this name Swift had perpetrated an amusing hoax on an almanac-maker of the name of Partridge, and in launching his new periodical Steele availed himself of the notoriety of Bickerstaff’s name and feigned his identity with that personage.
P. 140. the disastrous stroke. Cf. “Othello,” i, 3, 157: “some distressful stroke that my youth suffered.”
the recollection of one of his mistresses. Tatler, No. 107.
the club at the Trumpet. 132.
the cavalcade. 86.
the upholsterer. 155, 160, 178.
If he walks out, etc. 238.
P. 141. Charles Lillie, perfumer, at the corner of Beaufort Buildings in the Strand, was agent for the sale of the Tatler and Spectator and is several times mentioned in those periodicals.
Betterton, Thomas (1635?-1710), Anne Oldfield (1683-1730), Will [Richard] Estcourt (1668-1712), were popular actors of the day.
Tom Durfey (1653-1723) was a dramatist and song writer.
Duke of Marlborough (1650-1722), and Marshal Turenne (1611-1675).
The Spectator ran from March 1, 1711, to December 6, 1712, with an additional series from June 18 to December 20, 1714.
the first sprightly runnings. Dryden’s “Aurengzebe,” iv, 1.
P. 142. Addison, Joseph (1672-1719).
the whiteness of her hand. Cf. Spectator. No. 113. “She certainly has the finest hand of any woman in the world.”
the havoc he makes. Spectator, 116, by Budgell.
his speech from the bench and his unwillingness. 122.
his gentle reproof. 130.
his doubts. 117.
P. 143. his account of the family pictures. 109, by Steele.
his choice of a chaplain. 106.
his falling asleep at church and his reproof of John Williams, i.e., John Matthews. 112.
I once thought I knew. Cf. “On the Conversation of Authors,” where A—— (William Ayrton) is introduced as “the Will Honeycomb of our set.”
The Court of Honour. Addison created the court in Tatler, 250. Its proceedings are recorded by himself and Steele in Nos. 253, 256, 259, 262, 265.
Personification of Musical Instruments. Tatler, 153, 157.
the picture of the family. Tatler, 95, of unknown authorship.
P. 144. the account of the two sisters. 151.
the married lady. 104.
the lover and his mistress. 94.
the bridegroom. 82.
Mr. Eustace and his wife. 172.
the fine dream. 117.
Mandeville, Bernard (d. 1733), author of the satirical “Fable of the Bees.”
reflections on cheerfulness. Spectator, 381, 387, 393.
those in Westminster Abbey. 26.
Royal Exchange. 69.
P. 145. the best criticism. 226.
Mr. Fuseli, Henry (1741-1825), painter and art critic.
an original copy. Probably the octavo edition of 1711.
The Guardian ran from March 12, 1713, to October 1, 1713.
The Rambler ran from March 20, 1749-50, to March 14, 1752.
Dr. Johnson, Samuel (1709-1784).
P. 146. give us pause. “Hamlet,” iii, 1, 68.
P. 147. All his periods, etc. See the “Character of Burke” and the preface to “The Characters of Shakespeare’s Plays.”
P. 148. the elephant. “Paradise Lost,” IV, 345.
If he were to write. Boswell’s “Johnson,” ed. Birkbeck Hill, II, 231.
P. 149. Rasselas, an Oriental tale, published in 1759.
abused Milton and patronised Lauder. See Boswell’s “Johnson,” I, 228-231.
P. 150. Boswell, James (1740-1795), made his literary reputation by his “Life of Johnson.”
the king of good fellows. Burns’s “Auld Rab Morris.”
inventory of all he said. Cf. Ben Jonson’s “Alchemist,” iii, 2: “And ta’en an inventory of what they are.”
Goldsmith asked. Boswell’s “Johnson,” II, 260.
If that fellow Burke. II, 450.
What, is it you. I, 250.
P. 151. with some unidead girls. I, 251.
Now, I think. II, 362.
his quitting the society. I, 201.
his dining with Wilkes. III, 64.
his sitting with the young ladies. II, 120.
his carrying the unfortunate victim. IV, 321.
an act which realises the parable. Talfourd, who heard this lecture, reports that on Hazlitt’s allusion to this incident “a titter arose from some who were struck by the picture as ludicrous, and a murmur from others who deemed the allusion unfit for ears polite: he paused for an instant, and then added, in his sturdiest and most impressive manner—‘an act which realizes the parable of the Good Samaritan’—at which his moral, and his delicate hearers shrank, rebuked, into deep silence.”
where they. Gray’s “Elegy.”
P. 152. The Adventurer ran from November 7, 1752, to March 9, 1754. John Hawkesworth (1715-1773) was its chief contributor.