Preface to the Works of Shakespeare (1734) | Page 9

communicates to it its own
Sweetness: by This insinuating, that affecting Musick, tho' it takes
away the natural sweet Tranquillity of the Mind, yet, at the same time,
communicates a Pleasure the Mind felt not before. This Knowledge, of
the same Objects being capable of raising two contrary Affections, is a
Proof of no ordinary Progress in the Study of human Nature. *The
general Beauties of those two Poems of MILTON, intitled, _L'Allegro_
and Il Pensoroso, are obvious to all Readers, because the Descriptions
are the most poetical in the World; yet there is a peculiar Beauty in
those two excellent Pieces, that will much enhance the Value of them
to the more capable Readers; which has never, I think, been observ'd.
The Images, in each Poem, which he raises to excite Mirth and
Melancholy, are exactly the same, only shewn in different Attitudes.
Had a Writer, less acquainted with Nature, given us two Poems on
these Subjects, he would have been sure to have sought out the most
contrary Images to raise these contrary Passions. And, particularly, as
Shakespeare, in the Passage I am now commenting, speaks of these
different Effects in Musick; so Milton has brought it into each Poem as
the Exciter of each Affection: and lest we should mistake him, as
meaning that different Airs had this different Power, (which every
Fidler is proud to have you understand,) He gives the Image of those
self-same Strains that Orpheus used to regain Eurydice, as proper both
to excite Mirth and Melancholy. But Milton most industriously copied
the Conduct of our Shakespeare, in Passages that shew'd an intimate
Acquaintance with Nature and Science.
[Sidenote: Shakespeare's Knowledge of Nature.]
I have not thought it out of my Province, whenever Occasion offer'd, to
take notice of some of our Poet's grand Touches of Nature: Some, that
do not appear superficially such; but in which he seems the most deeply
instructed; and to which, no doubt, he has so much ow'd that happy
Preservation of his Characters, for which he is justly celebrated. If he

was not acquainted with the Rule as deliver'd by Horace, his own
admirable Genius pierc'd into the Necessity of such a Rule.
----Servetur ad imum Qualis ab incoepto processerit, & sibi constet.
For what can be more ridiculous, than, in our modern Writers, to make
a debauch'd young Man, immers'd in all the Vices of his Age and Time,
in a few hours take up, confine himself in the way of Honour to one
Woman, and moralize in good earnest on the Follies of his past
Behaviour? Nor can, that great Examplar of Comic Writing, Terence be
altogether excused in this Regard; who, in his Adelphi, has left Demea
in the last Scenes so unlike himself: whom, as Shakespeare expresses it,
_he has turn'd with the seamy Side of his Wit outward_. This Conduct,
as Errors are more readily imitated than Perfections, Beaumont and
Fletcher seem to have follow'd in a Character in their Scornful Lady. It
may be objected, perhaps, by some who do not go to the Bottom of our
Poet's Conduct, that he has likewise transgress'd against the Rule
himself, by making Prince Harry at once, upon coming to the Crown,
throw off his former Dissoluteness, and take up the Practice of a sober
Morality and all the kingly Virtues. But this would be a mistaken
Objection. The Prince's Reformation is not so sudden, as not to be
prepar'd and expected by the Audience. He gives, indeed, a Loose to
Vanity, and a light unweigh'd Behaviour, when he is trifling among his
dissolute Companions; but the Sparks of innate Honour and true
Nobleness break from him upon every proper Occasion, where we
would hope to see him awake to Sentiments suiting his Birth and
Dignity. And our Poet has so well, and artfully, guarded his Character
from the Suspicions of habitual and unreformable Profligateness; that
even from the first shewing him upon the Stage, in the first Part of
Henry IV, when he made him consent to join with Falstaffe in a
Robbery on the Highway, he has taken care not to carry him off the
Scene, without an Intimation that he knows them all, and their unyok'd
Humour; and that, like the Sun, he will permit them only for a while to
obscure and cloud his Brightness; then break thro' the Mist, when he
pleases to be himself again; that his Lustre, when wanted, may be the
more wonder'd at.

Another of _Shakespeare_'s grand Touches of Nature, and which lies
still deeper from the Ken of common Observation, has been taken
notice of in a Note upon _The Tempest_; where Prospero at once
interrupts the Masque of Spirits, and starts into a sudden Passion and
Disorder of Mind. As the latent Cause of his