carries the weight of his opinion completely over to the side of
objection, thus keeping up a perpetual alternation of perfections
and absurdities.

We do not otherwise know how to account for such assertions as the
following: 'In his tragic scenes, there is always something wanting,
but his comedy often surpasses expectation or desire. His comedy
pleases by the thoughts and the language, and his tragedy, for the
greater part, by incident and action. His tragedy seems to be skill,
his comedy to be instinct.' Yet after saying that 'his tragedy was
skill', he affirms in the next page, 'His declamations or set
speeches are commonly cold and weak, for his power was the power of
nature: when he endeavoured, like other tragic writers, to catch
opportunities of amplification, and instead of inquiring what the
occasion demanded, to show how much his stores of knowledge could
supply, he seldom escapes without the pity or resentment of his
reader.' Poor Shakespeare! Between the charges here brought against
him, of want of nature in the first instance, and of want of skill
in the second, he could hardly escape being condemned. And again,
'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, or 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
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.' In all this, our critic seems more bent on
maintaining the equilibrium of his style than the consistency or
truth of his opinions.--If Dr. Johnson's opinion was right, the
following observations on Shakespeare's plays must be greatly