verbal witticism. It is true, he sometimes
makes a most lavish use of this figure; at others, he has employed it
very sparingly; and at times (for example, in _Macbeth_) I do not
believe a vestige of it is to be found. Hence, in respect to the use
or the rejection of the play upon words, he must have been guided by
the measure of the objects and the different style in which they
required to be treated, and probably have followed here, as in
everything else, principles which, fairly examined, will bear a strict
examination.

The objection that Shakespeare wounds our feelings by the open display
of the most disgusting moral odiousness, unmercifully harrows up the
mind, and tortures even our eyes by the exhibition of the most
insupportable and hateful spectacles, is one of greater and graver
importance. He has, in fact, never varnished over wild and
bloodthirsty passions with a pleasing exterior--never clothed crime
and want of principle with a false show of greatness of soul; and in
that respect he is every way deserving of praise. Twice he has
portrayed downright villains, and the masterly way in which he has
contrived to elude impressions of too painful a nature may be seen in
Iago and Richard the Third. I allow that the reading, and still more
the sight, of some of his pieces, is not advisable to weak nerves, any
more than was the _Eumenides_ of AEschylus; but is the poet, who can
reach an important object only by a bold and hazardous daring, to be
checked by considerations for such persons? If the effeminacy of the
present day is to serve as a general standard of what tragical
composition may properly exhibit to human nature, we shall be forced
to set very narrow limits indeed to art, and the hope of anything like
powerful effect must at once and forever be renounced. If we wish to
have a grand purpose, we must also wish to have the grand means, and
our nerves ought in some measure to accommodate themselves to painful
impressions, if, by way of requital, our mind is thereby elevated and
strengthened. The constant reference to a petty and puny race must
cripple the boldness of the poet. Fortunately for his art, Shakespeare
lived in an age extremely susceptible of noble and tender impressions,
but which had yet inherited enough of the firmness of a vigorous olden
time not to shrink with dismay from every strong and forcible
painting. We have lived to see tragedies of which the catastrophe
consists in the swoon of an e