ords such
as occur, and leaves it to be disentangled and evolved by those who have
more leisure to bestow upon it.

Not that always where the language is intricate the thought is subtle, or
the image always great where the line is bulky; the equality of words to
things is very often neglected, and trivial sentiments and vulgar ideas
disappoint the attention, to which they are recommended by sonorous
epithets and swelling figures.

But the admirers of this great poet have most reason to complain when he
approaches nearest to his highest excellence, and seems fully resolved to
sink them in dejection, and mollify them with tender emotions by the fall
of greatness, the danger of innocence, or the crosses of love. What he
does best, he soon ceases to do. He is not long soft and pathetick without
some idle conceit, or contemptible equivocation. He no sooner begins to
move, than he counteracts himself; and terror and pity, as they are rising
in the mind, are checked and blasted by sudden frigidity.

A quibble is to Shakespeare what luminous vapours are to the traveller: he
follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him out of his way, and
sure to engulf him in the mire. It has some malignant power over his mind,
and its fascinations are irresistible. Whatever be the dignity or
profundity of his disquisition, whether he be enlarging knowledge or
exalting affection, whether he be amusing attention with incidents, or
enchaining it in suspense, let but a quibble spring up before him, and he
leaves his work unfinished. A quibble is the golden apple for which he
will always turn aside from his career, or stoop from his elevation. A
quibble, poor and barren as it is, gave him such delight, that he was
content to purchase it by the sacrifice of reason, propriety, and truth. A
quibble was to him the fatal Cleopatra for which he lost the world, and
was content to lose it.

It will be thought strange, that, in enumerating the defects of this
writer, I have not yet mentioned his neglect of the unities; his violation
of those laws which have been instituted and established by the joint
authority of poets and of criticks.

For his other deviations from the art of writing, I resign him to critical
justice, without making any other demand in his favour, than that which
must be indulged to all human excellence; that his virtues be rated with
his failings: but, from the censure which this irregularity may bring upon
him, I shall, wit