That Shakespeare possessed that _aroma_ of humour which we denominate _wit_, beyond any of his contemporaries or successors, is a matter about which, I think, there cannot be two opinions. I will not deny that in nervousness Jonson may have equalled him, but I certainly know not where to look for the sublime in Beaumont which rivalled that of Macbeth and Lear; and unquestionably I should never even dream of putting the morbid softness of Fletcher in comparison with the genuine manly pathos of Shakespeare. There was however one thing in which I must confess they all exceeded him--perspicuity; for though in many, very many parts of his plays the language is most lucid and unconstrained, there are others--in Troilus and Cressida for instance--which task the intellect to understand them, and which never could have been intelligible to an ordinary audience. But the fact is, neither he nor any other of his brother dramatists ever seems to have asked himself the simple question, Will the audience understand this? I finally must assert, in opposition to Gifford, that, where Shakespeare's verse is uninjured, we have abundant proof that no poet ever excelled him in "rhythmical modulation," and that, when we would produce the most melodious verse in our language, it is in his plays that we shall find our best specimens. It seems to me quite idle to say with Coleridge that Shakespeare's verse is peculiar in rhythm and structure; for, from the nature of verse, it could not be so. It is just as idle to say with Johnson that the blank verse of Thomson is not that of Milton. The difference in such cases lies wholly in the language; and that of Shakespeare _is_ peculiar. This is caused by an excess of figurative expression, in which his metaphors are often broken and confused and his similes imperfect, by inversions and transpositions, and by the use of words in unusual and even incorrect senses. Shakespeare's power of observation must have been not merely extensive but marvellous:-- "He walk'd in every path of human life, Felt every passion, and to all mankind Doth now, will ever, that experience yield Which his own genius only could acquire."