Preface to the Works of Shakespeare (1734) | Page 9

intitled, _L'Allegro_ and Il Pensoroso, are obvious to all Readers, because the Descriptions are the most poetical in the World; yet there is a peculiar Beauty in those two excellent Pieces, that will much enhance the Value of them to the more capable Readers; which has never, I think, been observ'd. The Images, in each Poem, which he raises to excite Mirth and Melancholy, are exactly the same, only shewn in different Attitudes. Had a Writer, less acquainted with Nature, given us two Poems on these Subjects, he would have been sure to have sought out the most contrary Images to raise these contrary Passions. And, particularly, as Shakespeare, in the Passage I am now commenting, speaks of these different Effects in Musick; so Milton has brought it into each Poem as the Exciter of each Affection: and lest we should mistake him, as meaning that different Airs had this different Power, (which every Fidler is proud to have you understand,) He gives the Image of those self-same Strains that Orpheus used to regain Eurydice, as proper both to excite Mirth and Melancholy. But Milton most industriously copied the Conduct of our Shakespeare, in Passages that shew'd an intimate Acquaintance with Nature and Science.
[Sidenote: Shakespeare's Knowledge of Nature.]
I have not thought it out of my Province, whenever Occasion offer'd, to take notice of some of our Poet's grand Touches of Nature: Some, that do not appear superficially such; but in which he seems the most deeply instructed; and to which, no doubt, he has so much ow'd that happy Preservation of his Characters, for which he is justly celebrated. If he was not acquainted with the Rule as deliver'd by Horace, his own admirable Genius pierc'd into the Necessity of such a Rule.
----Servetur ad imum Qualis ab incoepto processerit, & sibi constet.
For what can be more ridiculous, than, in our modern Writers, to make a debauch'd young Man, immers'd in all the Vices of his Age and Time, in a few hours take up, confine himself in the way of Honour to one Woman, and moralize in good earnest on the Follies of his past Behaviour? Nor can, that great Examplar of Comic Writing, Terence be altogether excused in this Regard; who, in his Adelphi, has left Demea in the last Scenes so unlike himself: whom, as Shakespeare expresses it, _he has turn'd with the seamy Side of his Wit outward_. This Conduct, as Errors are more readily imitated than Perfections, Beaumont and Fletcher seem to have follow'd in a Character in their Scornful Lady. It may be objected, perhaps, by some who do not go to the Bottom of our Poet's Conduct, that he has likewise transgress'd against the Rule himself, by making Prince Harry at once, upon coming to the Crown, throw off his former Dissoluteness, and take up the Practice of a sober Morality and all the kingly Virtues. But this would be a mistaken Objection. The Prince's Reformation is not so sudden, as not to be prepar'd and expected by the Audience. He gives, indeed, a Loose to Vanity, and a light unweigh'd Behaviour, when he is trifling among his dissolute Companions; but the Sparks of innate Honour and true Nobleness break from him upon every proper Occasion, where we would hope to see him awake to Sentiments suiting his Birth and Dignity. And our Poet has so well, and artfully, guarded his Character from the Suspicions of habitual and unreformable Profligateness; that even from the first shewing him upon the Stage, in the first Part of Henry IV, when he made him consent to join with Falstaffe in a Robbery on the Highway, he has taken care not to carry him off the Scene, without an Intimation that he knows them all, and their unyok'd Humour; and that, like the Sun, he will permit them only for a while to obscure and cloud his Brightness; then break thro' the Mist, when he pleases to be himself again; that his Lustre, when wanted, may be the more wonder'd at.
Another of _Shakespeare_'s grand Touches of Nature, and which lies still deeper from the Ken of common Observation, has been taken notice of in a Note upon _The Tempest_; where Prospero at once interrupts the Masque of Spirits, and starts into a sudden Passion and Disorder of Mind. As the latent Cause of his Emotion is there fully inquir'd into, I shall no farther dwell upon it here.
Such a Conduct in a Poet (as Shakespeare has manifested on many like Occasions;) where the Turn of Action arises from Reflexions of his Characters, where the Reason of it is not express'd in Words, but drawn from the inmost Resources of Nature, shews him truly capable of that Art, which is more in Rule than Practice: Ars est celare Artem.