readers at the present day are not even aware that Shakspeare is the author of a volume of Miscellaneous Poems. Wordsworth, in one of his prefaces to his own poems, (published in 1815,) announces it as an interesting fact, that such a work is extant, and that it is every way worthy of the illustrious Shakspeare. Dr. Drake, however, is the only writer who has taken up the subject with the enthusiasm, that every thing connected with that glorious name is so well calculated to awaken. His indefatigable industry, and the genuine love of literature which he on all occasions exhibits, excite the respect and sympathy of every generous mind. He has contributed more than any other critic with whom I am acquainted to revive these unjustly neglected poems.

A regret has often been expressed that we have little beyond a collection of barren dates in what is called the life of Shakspeare. Now I conceive, and in this opinion I do not stand alone, that if any new light be thrown on Shakspeare's life and character, it must result from a careful and profound study of these sonnets. Frederick Schlegel has observed, that it is in these pieces that we are first introduced to a personal knowledge of the great poet and his feelings. "When he wrote sonnets," he observes, "it seems as if he had considered himself as more of a poet than when he wrote plays; he was the manager of a theatre, and he viewed the drama as his business; on it he exerted all his intellect and power; but when he had feelings intense and secret to express, he had recourse to a form of writing with which his habits had rendered him familiar. It is strange but delightful to scrutinize, in these short effusions, the character of Shakspeare. For the right understanding of even his dramatic works,

these lyrics are of the greatest importance; they show us, that in his dramas he very seldom speaks according to his own thoughts or feelings, but according to his knowledge." This is also the opinion of his celebrated brother, Augustus William Schlegel; and I take up a strong position indeed, when I shelter myself under such authorities.* Mr.Thomas Campbell, however, has expressed his surprise that the last mentioned critic, one of the most brilliant and acute spirits of the age," should have made this " erroneous over-estimate of the light derivable from these poems, respecting the poet's history." He contends, that the facts attested by the sonnets, can be held in a nutshell;" that they do not unequi vocally paint the actual situation of the poet, nor make us acquainted with his passions; nor contain any confession of the most remarkable errors of his youthful years. He does not deny that some slight indications of a personal nature may be gathered from a careful perusal, but considers these to be grossly exaggerated by the Ger.. man critic, and insists that the sonnets contain nothing new or im. portant as to the Poet's life and character. Hazlitt also, for whose critical taste and acumen I have generally a high respect, has strangely lost himself upon this subject. "Of the sonnets," says he, "I do not well know what to say;" as if their merit were a doubtful question. He, however, seems to rest his objection to them more on the ground of the obscurity of their subject, than their deficiency of poetical attractions, for he admits that many of them are highly beautiful in themselves, and interesting, as they relate to the personal feelings of the author,

These sonnets are not constructed after the legitimate Italian model, nor do they possess especial claims upon

our notice, as specimens of a particular class of compositions. After what English writer Shakspeare formed his sonnets has been a matter of much inquiry. This species of poem was introduced into England during the reign of Henry the Eighth. In 1540, Wyatt published his collection of Sonnets, which were constructed very nearly on the original Italian model. He was followed in the same department of poetry by the accomplished, but unfortunate, Surrey, in 1557, who produced a series of very beautiful poems; to which, however, the Italian critics would have reluctantly conceded the title of sonnet. They consist, in the same manner as Shakspeare's, of three quatrains, or four line verses, with alternate rhymes, and a concluding couplet. Watson's Sonnets, to which Steevens absurdly assigns the superiority over those of Shakspeare, were published in 1581. They are extremely inaccurate in their construction, and utterly worthless in point of diction, thought, and imagery. They do not even preserve the ordinary limits and appearance of the sonnet; but invariably consist of eighteen lines, instead of fourteen, and possess no one characteristic that entitles them to that denomination. Sidney's Sonnets, published in 1591, are built more closely after the Italian model, and are often extremely elegant. They usually consist of an octant of two alternate rhymes, and a sextant, in which the first line and the third, the second and the fourth, the fifth and the sixth, are made to rhyme together. Daniel, whose fifty-seven sonnets (to Delia) were published in 1592, and whom Headley styles the Atticus of his day, seems to have followed the example of Surrey, and formed them of three elegiac stanzas and a couplet. In 1595, the tender and romantic. Spenser eclipsed all who had started before him by a series of eighty-eight sonnets these consist of three tetrachords in alternate rhyme, the last line of the first tetrachord rhyming to the first of the second, and the last of the second to the first of the third, with a couplet termination. This system, though not legitimate, is rather pleasing. The next writer of sonnets of any note is Drayton, who formed

;

his poems after Surrey and Daniel. To Drayton succeeded Shakspeare.

Malone and Dr. Drake (to the latter of whom I am indebted for some of the above dates,) are of opinion that the sonnets of Daniel were the prototype of Shakspeare's; and though their observations on this subject are not without weight, I am inclined to think that Shakspeare had studied all the sonnet compositions of his predecessors, without constructing his own after any particular standard. Daniel's system is not peculiar to himself; there were other writers, both before and after him, who adopted the same form. As to his turn of expression, though in some respects similar to Shakspeare's, it is not more so than that of his other contemporaries. It is the diction and idiom of the age. Shakspeare not being an Italian scholar, and not therefore acquainted with the strict models, chose the system that was most popular at the time, and which was certainly the most easy to construct, and perhaps the most agreeable to his own ear. That the form of three elegiac quatrains, concluding with a couplet, is infinitely less difficult than the Petrarchan sonnet, and is capable of being rendered highly musical and agreable in skilful hands, no critic would be willing to dispute; but it is not entitled to the name of sonnet. In the legitimate sonnet the first eight lines should have but two rhymes, and the concluding six lines should have either two or three rhymes arranged alternately. Shakspeare's fourteen line effusions are very exquisite little poems, but they are not sonnets; and I only call them such to distinguish them from his longer pieces, and because they are generally recognized by that title.

I shall not, on the present occasion, enter into any elaborate explanation of my reasons for refusing to these poems the character of sonnets; but shall content myself with observing, that their defective arrangement in the rhymes, as already noticed, and their general want of that unity and point which are essential to the true sonnet, are strong objections to their claims to that denomination. Some writers have a ridiculous habit of calling every short poem a sonnet, without reference to

its precise number of lines, or its general arrangement. They might just as well call a didactic poem an ode, a blank-verse poem a song, or an elegy an epigram. It is uncritical and injudicious to confound the different orders of verse by inappropriate titles. Many people disapprove entirely of the system of the sonnet as too arbitrary and confined, and compare it to the bed of Procrustes, by which the limbs of the victims laid thereon were made to fit by being either stretched or amputated, as the case required. They object to its being limited to a precise number of lines; as if the same objection might not be made to every other form of the verse. The sonnet is one stanza of fourteen lines, as the Spenserian measure is one stanza of nine lines. Some poems have been constructed entirely of sonnet stanzas. Though the Spenserian stanza is much shorter, it is generally complete in itself, and the sound and sense are wound up together by the concluding Alexandrine, in a way that fully satisfies both the ear and the mind. Even in eight and four-line stanzas, there is usually a certain unity and completeness, both of thought and music. These laws of verse are not arbitrary or casual; but depend on certain fixed principles, discovered by the intuitive taste and discrimination of genius. Capel Lofft has ingeniously insisted on the perfection of the sonnet construction, and its analogy to music; and has remarked that it is somewhat curious that two Guidi or Guittonni, both of Arezzo, the birthplace of Petrarch, were the fathers, the one of the sonnet and the other of the modern system of musical notation and solomization. I am not sufficiently scientific to follow him in all his illustrations; but he has proved, at least to my satisfaction, that the sonnet is as complete and beautiful a form of verse as any that has been yet invented. I of course allude to the strict Petrarchan or Guidonian sonnet. The little poems of Bowles and Charlotte Smith are merely elegiac stanzas, with a concluding couplet; and though very pretty and pleasing compositions, possess by no means the charm which they would have acquired by a more rigid adherence to the Italian model.

Of later years a more intimate acquaintance with Italian literature has opened the eyes of our poets to the superior beauty of the legitimate construction. The true Italian sonnet is a labyrinth of sweet sounds. It has all the variety of blank verse, with the additional charm of rhyme. There is no precise limit to the number, or position of the pauses, and the lines may so run over into each other, that the cloying effect of a too frequent and palpable recurrence of the same terminations need never be experienced, if the poet turn his skill and taste to a proper account. The sonnet is not adapted to all subjects, but to those only which may be treated in a small compass. A single sentiment or principle may be expressed or illustrated within its narrow limits, with exquisite and powerful effect; but it is not adapted for continuous feeling or complex thought. Pastorini's celebrated sonnet of Genoa, and the equally celebrated sonnet to Italy by Filicaja, are examples of the capability of the sonnet to give effect to a single burst of feeling, or to one pervading idea, suggested by a single scene or circumstance. Wordsworth, who is the most legitimate and by far the finest sonnet writer in the English language, since Milton, has produced several perfect specimens of the force and unity of this species of composition. I content myself with adducing one beautiful example :

SONNET.

Composed on Westminster Bridge. Earth has not anything to shew more fair ; Dull would he be the soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty ; This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep; The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! the very houses seem asleep, And all that mighty heart is lying still.

The reader feels, as this fine sonnet is wound up with the sublime concluding image, that there is no want of an additional line or an additional illustration. Both the ear and mind are satisfied. The music of thought and the music of verse are exquisitely blended,