He seems to have thought that nothing great could be produced in an ordinary way.

The chief incidents in some of his most admired tragedies show this.[1] Shakspeare had nothing of this contortion in his mind, none of that craving after violent situations, and flights of strained and improbable virtue, which I think always betrays an imperfect moral sensibility.

The wit of Fletcher is excellent,[2] like his serious scenes, but there is something strained and far-fetched in both.

He is too mistrustful of Nature, he always goes a little on one side of her .-- Shakspeare chose her without a reserve: and had riches, power, understanding, and length of days, with her for a dowry.
[Footnote 1: Wife for a Month, Cupid's Revenge, Double Marriage, &c.] [Footnote 2: Wit without Money, and his comedies generally.] _Faithful Shepherdess_ .-- If all the parts of this delightful pastoral had been in unison with its many innocent scenes and sweet lyric intermixtures, it had been a poem fit to vie with Comus or the Arcadia, to have been put into the hands of boys and virgins, to have made matter for young dreams, like the loves of Hermia and Lysander.
But a spot is on the face of this Diana.

Nothing short of infatuation could have driven Fletcher upon mixing with this "blessedness" such an ugly deformity as Chloe, the wanton shepherdess! If Chloe was meant to set off Clorin by contrast, Fletcher should have known that such weeds by juxtaposition do not set off, but kill sweet flowers.
* * * * * PHILIP MASSINGER .-- THOMAS DECKER.
_The Virgin Martyr_ .-- This play has some beauties of so very high an order, that with all my respect for Massinger, I do not think he had poetical enthusiasm capable of rising up to them.