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I own, I was somewhat shocked to see it gravely said in print, that the quahty by which Shakspeare was to be individualised from all others was, what is ordinarily called, wit. I had read his plays over and over, and it did not strike me that wit was his great and characteristic superi- ority. That Shakspeare has wit is indisputable, but it is not the same kind of wit as in other writers : his wit is blended with the other qualities of his works, and is, by its nature, capable of being so blended. It is not always easy to distinguish between wit and fancy. I know of no mode so satisfactory of distinguishing between wit and fancy. I appeal to the recollection of those who hear me, whether the greater part of what passes for wit in Shak- speare, is not most exquisite humour, heightened by a figure, and attributed to a particular character?
Take the instance of the flea on Bardolph's nose, which Falstaff compares to a soul suft'ering in purgatory. The images themselves, in cases like this, afford a great part of the pleasure. These remarks are not without importance in forming a judgment of poets and writers in general : there is a wide difference between the talent which gives a sort of electric surprise by a mere turn of phrase, and that higher ability which produces surprise by a permanent medium, and always leaves something behind it, which satisfies the mind as well as tickles the hearing. The first belongs to 4i6 The Sixth Lecture men of cleverness, who, having been long in the world, have observed the turns of phrase which please in company, and which, passing away the moment, are passed in a moment, being no longer recollected than the time they take in utterance. This sort of talent by no means constitutes genius, although it has some affinity to it. The wit of Shakspeare is, as it were, like the flourishing of a man's stick, when he is walking, in the full flow of animal spirits : it is a sort of exuberance of hilarity which disburdens, and it resembles a conductor, to distribute a portion of our gladness to the surrounding air.
While, however, it disburdens, it leaves behind what is weightiest and most important, and what most contributes to some direct aim and purpose. I will now touch upon a very serious charge against Shakspeare — that of indecency and immorality. These persons have appealed to Beaumont and Fletcher, to Massinger, and to other less eminent drama- tists, to prove that what is complained of was common to them all. By manners I mean what is dependent on the par- cular customs and fashions of the age. Even in a state of comparative barbarism as to manners, there may be, and there is, morality. Above all, let us compare him with some modern writers, the servile imitators of the French, and we shall receive a most instructive lesson.
I may take the liberty of reading the following note, written by me after witnessing the performance of a modern play at Malta, about nine years ago : — "I went to the theatre, and came away without waiting for the entertainment. The longer I live, the more I am impressed with the exceeding immorality of modern plays : I can scarcely refrain from anger and laughter at the shamelessness, and the absurdity of the presumption which presents itself, when I think of their pretences to superior morality, compared with the plays of Shakspeare. Another modern author, who has done his utmost to undermine the innocence of the young of both sexes, has the effrontery to protest against the exhibition of the bare leg of a Corinthian female. In short, I appeal to the whole of Shakspeare's writings, whether his gross- ness is not the mere sport of fancy, dissipating low feelings by exciting the intellect, and only injuring while it offends? Modern dramas injure in consequence of not offending. Shakspeare's worst passages are grossnesses against the degradations of our nature : those of our modern plays are too often delicacies directly in favour of them.
