The Praise of Shakespeare: An English Anthology

In Short

This book is a comprehensive anthology of historical and critical responses to William Shakespeare, spanning from the late sixteenth century to the dawn of the twentieth. It functions as a curated history of appreciation, tracking how the playwright was perceived by his contemporaries and how his legacy was subsequently interpreted, defended, or challenged by later generations of writers, critics, and diarists. By documenting this long, unbroken thread of commentary, the anthology provides a unique record of how a singular creative genius has remained a central fixture of cultural discourse for over three hundred years.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book begins in the late sixteenth century, capturing the immediate, vibrant recognition of Shakespeare’s talent. Early writers like Francis Meres and John Weever characterize him as "honey-tongued" and "mellifluous," situating his work within the classical tradition while acknowledging his unique, self-taught genius. These early entries establish the foundation of his fame, framing him as a natural wonder whose "honey-flowing vein" secured his place in history before his life had even concluded.

As the seventeenth century progresses, the anthology moves into the era of the First and Second Folios. Here, the tone shifts toward profound personal loss and institutional respect. The editors include the voices of associates who viewed Shakespeare not as a distant relic, but as an intimate, irreplaceable friend. This section refutes the historical misconception that his reputation languished after his retirement; instead, it presents a landscape where his plays were discussed, performed, and cherished by figures ranging from common playgoers to King Charles I.

The arc then matures into the analytical rigor of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The book documents the emergence of "judicial" criticism, featuring figures like Samuel Johnson and Alexander Pope. These writers grapple with the paradox of a genius who lacked formal classical training yet surpassed all others in his grasp of "the book of Nature." The anthology explores the tension between those who demanded rigid adherence to theatrical rules and those who recognized Shakespeare as the sole authority, exempt from such pedantic restrictions.

As the anthology approaches the Victorian era, the discourse shifts toward a deeper exploration of his psychological and philosophical depth. Critics like Coleridge, Masson, and Pater examine the "exuberance of his genius" and the "lunar varieties" of his characterizations. The final movements of the book capture a sense of global reverence. By the time the collection concludes, Shakespeare is no longer just an English poet; he has become an universal oracle, a "mountainous" figure who stands apart from time, prompting the reader to recognize him as an essential, living force in the human experience. The inclusion of playful, anecdotal pieces—such as a story of a man cursed with a face that looks too much like the bard’s—adds a final, humanizing touch to this epic history of intellectual admiration.

How It Unfolds

The initial acclaim The anthology opens with the exuberant, flowery tributes of the late 1500s, where contemporaries marvel at the "sugared sonnets" and "honey-tongued" verses of a rising star. These early writers eagerly compare his natural, unpolished brilliance to the greatest figures of classical antiquity.

The institutionalization of fame The middle sections document the publication of the Folios, showing how Shakespeare’s status was codified by those who knew him personally. This period establishes the reality of his popularity among the seventeenth-century elite and the common public alike.

The age of criticism The narrative shifts to the eighteenth-century scholars who attempt to reconcile Shakespeare’s lack of formal learning with his profound insight. These critics debate whether his defiance of classical rules is a flaw or the ultimate proof of his transcendental power.

The psychological turn In the nineteenth century, the focus moves toward the analysis of his characters and his mastery of the human soul. Writers like Coleridge and Masson treat his plays as a "golden bead-roll" of philosophy, emphasizing his unparalleled ability to mirror the complexities of the human condition.

The final reverence The book concludes with Victorian and late-century assessments that frame Shakespeare as a permanent, stabilizing force in Western culture. The tone here is one of finality and awe, positioning the playwright as an "immortal spirit" whose work will remain relevant as long as human history persists.

The People

The book is populated by a wide cast of literary figures who, across generations, define their own identities in relation to the poet. Samuel Johnson appears as the quintessential "judicial" critic, whose innate argumentative nature leads him to challenge the common consensus of Shakespeare’s perfection, though he remains a weight in the conversation. John Milton stands as a pivotal figure, whose early, reverent epitaphs are misunderstood by later generations who mistake his philosophical nuance for a change of heart. Samuel Pepys offers a necessary, grounded perspective as a regular theatergoer; he is not always impressed, recording his genuine frustration with certain performances, which provides a realistic counterweight to the more flowery eulogies. Coleridge and Matthew Arnold serve as the bridge to modern appreciation, shifting the focus toward the "victory" of the human spirit captured in the plays. Finally, the "Shakespearean boy" who appears in the concluding anecdotal verse highlights the overwhelming weight of the bard's legacy; he is an ordinary man burdened by a face that forces everyone around him to think of his famous prototype, representing the way the poet has colonized the collective imagination of the English people.

In Its Own Voice

Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; For now he lives in fame, though not in life.

These lines from Richard III serve as an epigraph, framing the entire anthology’s argument that the poet’s legacy transcends his physical existence.

He was an eminent instance of the truth of that rule, Poeta non fit sed nascitur; one is not made, but born a poet.

Thomas Fuller uses this classical adage to describe why Shakespeare’s lack of formal education was, in fact, the source of his natural, diamond-like brilliance.

I could not conceive why the Count de B * * * had gone so abruptly out of the room, any more than I could conceive why he had put the Shakespeare into his pocket.

Laurence Sterne uses this moment of mystery to illustrate how the act of reading Shakespeare serves as a refuge, transporting the reader away from the political and personal burdens of the real world.

What It's Really About

The central question of the book is how a single human intellect can come to represent the entirety of human experience. It investigates the nature of "genius" and whether it is a product of formal instruction or an inherent, spontaneous gift of nature. The anthology is also an argument against the "myth of silence"—the persistent, incorrect belief that Shakespeare was forgotten or underappreciated in the centuries following his death. Ultimately, it explores the function of art as a mirror for life, examining why we return to these specific plays to find answers for our own passions, griefs, and moral dilemmas. It is a study of how fame is constructed, maintained, and inherited by a culture.

Why Read It Today

This book is a rewarding experience for anyone interested in the history of ideas or the persistence of cultural memory. Reading it feels like walking through a long, crowded gallery where each portrait is painted by a different era’s hand; one moment you are reading a seventeenth-century epigram, and the next, a nineteenth-century psychological treatise. It is not a light, quick read; the language changes as you move through the centuries, and the period attitudes toward "genius" and "nature" can feel distant to the modern ear. However, the reward is a profound sense of continuity. You realize that the excitement you feel when reading Hamlet or Lear is exactly the same electricity that these figures felt three hundred years ago. It remains a powerful antidote to the feeling that we are alone in our appreciation of art, reminding us that we are part of an ongoing conversation that began shortly after the poet first laid down his pen. The book is especially valuable for those who are tired of modern "marketing" biographies and wish to see the raw, messy, and deeply human way that literature actually survives the passage of time.