The collected works of William Hazlitt, Vol. 05 (of 12) — Themes and Context

The Definition of Poetry as a Guiding Principle

Hazlitt's opening lecture establishes a criterion that recurs across the volume: poetry must produce an 'involuntary movement of imagination and passion.' He does not treat poetry as ornament or instruction, but as a natural response to vivid objects or events. This definition allows him to praise Chaucer for his 'internal power of passion' and to fault Pope for a lack of 'genuine inspiration.' Readers should watch how Hazlitt applies this standard consistently, even when it leads him to unconventional judgments—for instance, his preference for Thomson's descriptive power over Pope's polished couplets.

The definition also explains his interest in the 'modulation of the voice' and sound, which he sees as integral to poetic effect. In later lectures, he returns to the musical qualities of verse, particularly in his discussions of Milton and Collins. This emphasis on the sensory and emotional impact of poetry, rather than its intellectual content, gives the lectures a distinctive character.

Character and Structure in Elizabethan Drama

In the second series of lectures, Hazlitt turns to Elizabethan playwrights with a particular focus on character drawing. His analysis of Middleton's Women Beware Women is the most detailed excerpt in this volume. He praises the 'admirably drawn' characters of Livia, Bianca, and Leantio, and singles out a scene where Livia 'holds the mother in suspense' as a 'master-piece of dramatic skill.' Yet he also criticizes the play's structure: it is 'like the rough draught of a tragedy' with 'fine studies of heads' but poor arrangement.

This tension between local excellence and overall design is a recurring theme. Hazlitt contrasts Middleton with Shakespeare, who 'saw to the end of what he was about' and never forgot 'the place which each figure ought to occupy.' Readers will find that Hazlitt's judgments of other dramatists—such as Ford or Webster—similarly balance admiration for individual scenes with reservations about plot coherence.

The Moral and Social Dimensions of Hazlitt's Criticism

Hazlitt's criticism is never purely aesthetic; he frequently draws moral and social implications from the works he examines. In his discussion of Women Beware Women, he notes the 'moral of this tragedy' is 'rendered more impressive from the manly, independent character of Leantio.' He quotes at length Leantio's speech contrasting 'honest wedlock' with 'base lust,' using the imagery of a 'banquetting-house built in a garden' versus a 'fair house built by a ditch side.' This moral reading is typical of Hazlitt's approach: he treats literature as a source of ethical insight, not just pleasure.

His lectures on the English poets also reveal his social sympathies. He praises Burns for his 'manly independence' and criticizes the artificiality of courtly verse. Readers should note how Hazlitt's own political radicalism—he was a supporter of the French Revolution—shapes his evaluations, particularly in the final lecture on 'the living poets,' where he champions Wordsworth and Coleridge while dismissing the Lake School's detractors.

Hazlitt's Critical Voice and Rhetorical Strategies

Hazlitt's prose is itself a subject of interest. He writes with a conversational directness that avoids academic jargon, often using vivid metaphors and personal asides. In the excerpt on Middleton, he describes the play's structure as having 'fine studies of heads, a piece of richly-coloured drapery, “a foot, an hand, an eye from Nature drawn, that’s worth a history.”' This quotation from Pope is typical of Hazlitt's habit of weaving other poets' lines into his own sentences, creating a texture of allusion.

He also employs rhetorical contrasts: Shakespeare 'stood over his work' while other playwrights are 'in possession of excellent materials, which they husband very ill.' Such antitheses give his criticism a memorable sharpness. Readers should attend to how Hazlitt builds his arguments through a series of concrete observations rather than abstract principles, and how he often shifts from analysis to quotation and back, letting the poets speak for themselves.

This volume rewards readers who approach it as a series of critical performances rather than a systematic treatise. Hazlitt's judgments are personal, sometimes idiosyncratic, but always grounded in close attention to language and effect. The two lecture series complement each other: the first offers a broad survey of English poetry, the second a deeper dive into Elizabethan drama. Together, they demonstrate a critic who reads with passion and writes with precision, making this collection essential for anyone interested in Romantic-era criticism or the history of literary taste.

Reading Hazlitt’s insistence that poetry lives in the warmth of felt thought, I remembered a winter evening spent with Under the Trees and Elsewhere — Reading Notes, where the same quiet pulse ran through every page. Both books feel less like arguments and more like someone breathing beside you, trusting that a single honest sentence can hold more than any system.