us all talking the language of the
Understanding only; that is, censuring the action with very little
conscientious investigation even of _that_; and transferring the censure,
in every odious colour, to the actor himself; how much soever our hearts
and affections might secretly revolt: For as to the _Impression_, we have
already observed that it has no tongue; nor is its operation and influence
likely to be made the subject of conference and communication.

It is not to the _Courage_ only of _Falstaff_ that we think these
observations will apply: No part whatever of his character seems to be
fully settled in our minds; at least there is something strangely
incongruous in our discourse and affections concerning him. We all like
_Old Jack_; yet, by some strange perverse fate, we all abuse him, and deny
him the possession of any one single good or respectable quality. There is
something extraordinary in this: It must be a strange art in _Shakespeare_
which can draw our liking and good will towards so offensive an object. He
has wit, it will be said; chearfulness and humour of the most
characteristic and captivating sort. And is this enough? Is the humour and
gaiety of vice so very captivating? Is the wit, characteristic of baseness
and every ill quality, capable of attaching the heart and winning the
affections? Or does not the apparency of such humour, and the flashes of
such wit, by more strongly disclosing the deformity of character, but the
more effectually excite our hatred and contempt of the man? And yet this
is not our _feeling_ of _Falstaff_'s character. When he has ceased to
amuse us, we find no emotions of disgust; we can scarcely forgive the
ingratitude of the Prince in the new-born virtue of the King, and we curse
the severity of that poetic justice which consigns our old good-natured
companion to the custody of the _warden_, and the dishonours of the
_Fleet_.

I am willing, however, to admit that if a Dramatic writer will but
preserve to any character the qualities of a strong mind, particularly
Courage and ability, that it will be afterwards no very difficult task (as
I may have occasion to explain) to discharge that _disgust_ which arises
from vicious manners; and even to attach us (if such character should
contain any quality productive of chearfulness and laughter) to the cause
and subject of our mirth with some degree of affection.

But the question which I am to consider is of a very different nature: