e great principles of reason and equity, and the general
sense of mankind. These they are bound to obey and follow; and rather
to enlarge and enlighten law by the liberality of legislative reason,
than to fetter and bind their higher capacity by the narrow
constructions of subordinate, artificial justice."[15]

[15] Aristotle himself was very far from setting up the form and
extent of the drama of his day as a rule for all time. He
declared that, "as regards the natural limit of the action, the
more extended will always be the more beautiful, so long as it
is easily surveyed." Shakespeare's practice is strictly
correspondent to this rule. But with this rule in mind, he went
to the very verge of these limits. He chose his matter as rich
and full as possible; he extended its form according to its
requirements, but no further: it will not be found, in any of
his dramas, that the thought is exhausted before the end; that
there is any superfluous extension of the form, or any needless
abundance of the matter. To arrange the most ample materials in
the amplest form without overstepping its fair proportions, is a
task which no one has accomplished as he has done. Therein lies
a large part of his artistic greatness. No poet has represented
so much in so little space; none has so widely enlarged the
space without exceeding the poetical limitations. In this he did
not suffer himself to be perplexed by the example of the ancient
tragedy. He felt that the peculiar poetic material of the new
world would perish in those old forms, and that it was therefore
better to mould them afresh. He knew right well that the poet's
task was to represent the very substance of his times, to
reflect the age in his poetry, and to give it form and stamp: he
therefore created, for the enlarged sphere of life, an enlarged
sphere of Art: to this end he sought, not a ready-made rule, but
the inward law of the given matter,--a spirit in the things,
which in the work of art shaped the form for itself. For there
is no higher worth in a poetical work than the agreement of the
form with the nature of the matter represented, and this
according to its own indwelling laws, not according to external
rule. If we judge Shakespeare or Homer by any such conventional
rule, we may equally deny them taste and law: measured, however,
by that