rs, of his heartrending pathos, and
his comic wit. Moreover, they extol the beauty and sublimity of his
separate descriptions, images, and expressions. This last is the most
superficial and cheap mode of criticising works of art. Johnson
compares him who should endeavor to recommend this poet by passages
unconnectedly torn from his works, to the pedant in Hierocles, who
exhibited a brick as a sample of his house. And yet how little, and
how very unsatisfactorily does he himself speak of the pieces
considered as a whole! Let any man, for instance, bring together the
short characters which he gives at the close of each play, and see if
the aggregate will amount to that sum of admiration which he himself,
at his outset, has stated as the correct standard for the appreciation
of the poet. It was, generally speaking, the prevailing tendency of
the time which preceded our own, and which has showed itself
particularly in physical science, to consider everything having 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 point and viewing all the parts as so many irradiations
from it. Hence nothing is so rare as a critic who can elevate himself
to the comprehensive contemplation of a work of art. Shakespeare's
compositions, from the very depth of purpose displayed in them, have
been especially liable to the misfortune of being misunderstood.
Besides, this prosaic species of criticism requires always that the
poetic form should be applied to the details of execution; but when
the plan of the piece is concerned, it never looks for more than the
logical connection of causes and effects, or some partial and trite
moral by way of application; and all that cannot be reconciled
therewith is declared superfluous, or even a pernicious appendage. On
these principles we must even strike out from the Greek tragedies most
of the choral songs, which also contribute nothing to the development
of the action, but are merely an harmonious echo of the impressions
the poet aims at conveying. In this they altogether mistake the rights
of poetry and the nature of the romantic drama, which, for the very
reason that it is and ought to be picturesque, requires richer
accompaniments and contrasts for its main groups. In all Art and
Poetry, but more especially in the romantic, the Fancy lays claims to
be considered as an independent mental power gover