The third quarter of the eighteenth century, and not the first quarter of
the nineteenth, is the true period of transition in Shakespearian
criticism. The dramatic rules had been finally deposed. The corrected
plays were falling into disfavour, and though Shakespeare’s dramas were
not yet acted as they were written, more respect was being paid to the
originals. The sixty years’ controversy on the extent of his learning had
ended by proving that the best commentary on him is the literature of his
own age. At the same time there is a far-reaching change in the literary
appreciations of Shakespeare, which announces the school of Coleridge and
Hazlitt: his _characters_ now become the main topics of criticism.
In the five essays on the _Tempest_ and _King Lear_ contributed by Joseph
Warton to the _Adventurer_ in 1753-54, we can recognise the coming change
in critical methods. He began them by giving in a sentence a summary of
the common verdicts: “As Shakespeare is sometimes blamable for the conduct
of his fables, which have no unity; and sometimes for his diction, which
is obscure and turgid; so his characteristical excellences may possibly be
reduced to these three general heads—his lively creative imagination, his
strokes of nature and passion, and his preservation of the consistency of
his characters.” Warton himself believed in the dramatic conventions. He
objected to the Edmund story in _King Lear_ on the ground that it
destroyed the unity of the fable. But he had the wisdom to recognise that
irregularities in structure may be excused by the representation of the
persons of the drama.(25) Accordingly, in his examination of the _Tempest_
and _King Lear_, he pays most attention to the characters, and relegates
to a short closing paragraph his criticism of the development of the
action. Though his method has nominally much in common with that of
Maurice Morgann and the romantic critics, in practice it is very
different. He treats the characters from without: he lacks the intuitive
sympathy which is the secret of later criticism. To him the play is a
representation of life, not a transcript from life. The characters, who
are more real to us than actual persons of history, and more intimate than
many an acquaintance, appear to him to be creatures of the imagination who
live in a different world from his own. Warton describes the picture: he
criticises the portraits of the characters rather than the characters
themselves.
The gradual change in the critical attitude is illustrated also by Lord
Kames, whom Heath had reason to describe, before the appearance of
Johnson’s Preface, as “the truest judge and most intelligent admirer of
Shakespeare.”(26) The scheme of his _Elements of Criticism_ (1762) allowed
him to deal with Shakespeare only incidentally, as in the digression where
he distinguishes between the presentation and the description of passion,
but he gives more decisive expression to Warton’s view that observance of
the rules is of subordinate importance to the truthful exhibition of
character. The mechanical part, he observes, in which alone Shakespeare is
defective, is less the work of genius than of experience, and it is
knowledge of human nature which gives him his supremacy. The same views
are repeated in the periodical essays. The _Mirror_ regards it as
“preposterous” to endeavour to regularise his plays, and finds the source
of his superiority in his almost supernatural powers of invention, his
absolute command over the passions, and his wonderful knowledge of nature;
and the _Lounger_ says that he presents the abstract of life in all its
modes and in every time. The rules are forgotten,—we cease to hear even
that they are useless. But the _Elements of Criticism_ gave Kames no
opportunity to show that his attitude to the characters themselves was
other than Warton’s.
No critic had questioned Shakespeare’s truth to nature. The flower of
Pope’s Preface is the section on his knowledge of the world and his power
over the passions. Lyttleton showed his intimacy with Pope’s opinion when
in his _Dialogues of the Dead_ he made him say: “No author had ever so
copious, so bold, so _creative_ an imagination, with so perfect a
knowledge of the passions, the humours and sentiments of mankind. He
painted all characters, from kings down to peasants, with equal truth and
equal force. If human nature were destroyed, and no monument were left of
it except his works, other beings might know what man was from those
writings.” The same eulogy is repeated in other words by Johnson. And in
Gray’s _Progress of Poesy_ Shakespeare is “Nature’s Darling.” It was his
diction which gave most scope to the censure of the better critics. An age
whose literary watchwords were simplicity and precision was bound to
remark on his obscurities and plays on words, and even, as Dryden had
done, on his bombast. What Shaftesbury(27) or Atterbury(28) had said at
the beginning of the century is repeated, as we should expect, by the
rhetoricians, such as Blair. But it was shown by Kames that the merit of
Shakespeare’s language lay in the absence of those abstract and general
terms which were the blemish of the century’s own diction. “Shakespeare’s
style in that respect,” says Kames, “is excellent: every article in his
descriptions is particular, as in nature.” And herein Kames gave
independent expression to the views of the poet who is said to have lived
in the wrong century. “In truth,” said Gray, “Shakespeare’s language is
one of his principal beauties; and he has no less advantage over your
Addisons and Rowes in this than in those other great excellences you
mention. Every word in him is a picture.”(29)
The first book devoted directly to the examination of Shakespeare’s
characters was by William Richardson, Professor of Humanity in the
University of Glasgow. His _Philosophical Analysis and Illustration of
some of Shakespeare’s remarkable Characters_, which dealt with Macbeth,
Hamlet, Jaques, and Imogen, appeared in 1774; ten years later he added a
second series on Richard III., King Lear, and Timon of Athens; and in 1789
he concluded his character studies with his essay on Falstaff. As the
titles show, Richardson’s work has a moral purpose. His intention, as he
tells us, was to make poetry subservient to philosophy, and to employ it
in tracing the principles of human conduct. Accordingly, he has prejudiced
his claims as a literary critic. He is not interested in Shakespeare’s art
for its own sake; but that he should use Shakespeare’s characters as the
subjects of moral disquisitions is eloquent testimony to their truth to
nature. His classical bias, excusable in a Professor of Latin, is best
seen in his essay “On the Faults of Shakespeare,”(30) of which the title
was alone sufficient to win him the contempt of later critics. His essays
are the dull effusions of a clever man. Though they are not inspiriting,
they are not without interest. He recognised that the source of
Shakespeare’s greatness is that he became for the time the person whom he
represented.
Before the appearance of Richardson’s _Philosophical Analysis_, Thomas
Whately had written his _Remarks on Some of the Characters of
Shakespeare_; but it was not published till 1785. The author, who died in
1772, had abandoned it in order to complete, in 1770, his _Observations on
Modern Gardening_. The book contains only a short introduction and a
comparison of Macbeth and Richard III. The fragment is sufficient,
however, to indicate more clearly than the work of Richardson the coming
change. The author has himself remarked on the novelty of his method. The
passage must be quoted, as it is the first definite statement that the
examination of Shakespeare’s characters should be the main object of
Shakespearian criticism:
“The writers upon dramatic composition have, for the most part,
confined their observations to the fable; and the maxims received
amongst them, for the conduct of it, are therefore emphatically
called, _The Rules of the Drama_. It has been found easy to give
and to apply them; they are obvious, they are certain, they are
general: and poets without genius have, by observing them,
pretended to fame; while critics without discernment have assumed
importance from knowing them. But the regularity thereby
established, though highly proper, is by no means the first
requisite in a dramatic composition. Even waiving all
consideration of those finer feelings which a poet’s imagination
or sensibility imparts, there is, within the colder provinces of
judgment and of knowledge, a subject for criticism more worthy of
attention than the common topics of discussion: I mean the
distinction and preservation of _character_.”
The earlier critics who remarked on Shakespeare’s depiction of character
had not suspected that the examination of it was to oust the older
methods.
A greater writer, who has met with unaccountable neglect, was to express
the same views independently. Maurice Morgann had apparently written his
_Essay on the Dramatic Character of Sir John Falstaff_ about 1774, in an
interval of political employment, but he was not prevailed upon to publish
it till 1777. The better we know it, the more we shall regret that it is
the only critical work which he allowed to survive. He too refers to his
book as a “novelty.” He believes the task of considering Shakespeare in
detail to have been “hitherto unattempted.” But his main object, unlike
Whately’s or Richardson’s, is a “critique on the genius, the arts, and the
conduct of Shakespeare.” He concentrates his attention on a single
character, only to advance to more general criticism. “Falstaff is the
word only, Shakespeare is the theme.”
Morgann’s book did not meet with the attention which it deserved, nor to
this day has its importance been fully recognised. Despite his warnings,
his contemporaries regarded it simply as a defence of Falstaff’s courage.
One spoke of him as a paradoxical critic, and others doubted if he meant
what he said. All were unaccountably indifferent to his main purpose. The
book was unknown even to Hazlitt, who in the preface to his _Characters of
Shakespeare’s Plays_ alludes only to Whately(31) and Richardson as his
English predecessors. Yet it is the true forerunner of the romantic
criticism of Shakespeare. Morgann’s attitude to the characters is the same
as Coleridge’s and Hazlitt’s; his criticism, neglecting all formal
matters, resolves itself into a study of human nature. It was he who first
said that Shakespeare’s creations should be treated as historic rather
than as dramatic beings. And the keynote of his criticism is that “the
impression is the fact.” He states what he _feels_, and he explains the
reason in language which is barely on this side idolatry.(32)
The Essays.
Nicholas Rowe.
Nicholas Rowe’s _Account of the Life, etc., of Mr. William Shakespear_
forms the introduction to his edition of Shakespeare’s plays (1709, 6
vols., 8vo).
Rowe has the double honour of being the first editor of the plays of
Shakespeare and the first to attempt an authoritative account of his life.
The value of the biography can best be judged by comparing it with the
accounts given in such books as Fuller’s _Worthies of England_ (1662),
Phillips’s _Theatrum Poetarum_ (1675), Winstanley’s _English Poets_
(1687), Langbaine’s _English Dramatick Poets_ (1691), Pope Blount’s
_Remarks upon Poetry_ (1694), or Jeremy Collier’s _Historical and Poetical
Dictionary_ (1701). Though some of the traditions—for which he has
acknowledged his debt to Betterton—are of doubtful accuracy, it is safe to
say that but for Rowe they would have perished.
The _Account of Shakespeare_ was the standard biography during the
eighteenth century. It was reprinted by Pope, Hanmer, Warburton, Johnson,
Steevens, Malone, and Reed; but they did not give it in the form in which
Rowe had left it. Pope took the liberty of condensing and rearranging it,
and as he did not acknowledge what he had done, his silence led other
editors astray. Those who did note the alterations presumed that they had
been made by Rowe himself in the second edition in 1714. Steevens, for
instance, states that he publishes the life from “Rowe’s second edition,
in which it had been abridged and altered by himself after its appearance
in 1709.” But what Steevens reprints is Rowe’s _Account of Shakespeare_ as
edited by Pope. In this volume the _Account_ is given in its original form
for the first time since 1714.
Pope omitted passages dealing only indirectly with Shakespeare, or
expressing opinions with which he disagreed. He also placed the details of
Shakespeare’s later years (pp. 21-3) immediately after the account of his
relationship with Ben Jonson (p. 9), so that the biography might form a
complete portion by itself. With the exception of an occasional word,
nothing occurs in the emended edition which is not to be found somewhere
in the first.
A seventh and supplementary volume containing the Poems was added in 1710.
It included Charles Gildon’s _Remarks_ on the Plays and Poems and his
_Essay on the Art, Rise, and Progress of the Stage in Greece, Rome, and
England_.
John Dennis.
John Dennis’s three letters “on the genius and writings of Shakespear”
(February 1710-11) were published together in 1712 under the title _An
Essay on the Genius and Writings of Shakespear_. The volume contained also
two letters on the 40th and 47th numbers of the _Spectator_. All were
reprinted in Dennis’s _Original Letters, Familiar, Moral and Critical_, 2
vols., 1721. The Dedication is to George Granville, then Secretary at War.
“To whom,” says Dennis, “can an Essay upon the Genius and Writings of
Shakespear be so properly address’d, as to him who best understands
Shakespear, and who has most improv’d him? I would not give this just
encomium to the _Jew of Venice_, if I were not convinc’d, from a long
experience of the penetration and force of your judgment, that no
exaltation can make you asham’d of your former noble art.”
In 1693 Dennis had published the _Impartial Critick_, a reply to Rymer’s
_Short View of Tragedy_; but there is little about Shakespeare in its five
dialogues, their main purpose being to show the absurdity of Rymer’s plea
for adopting the Greek methods in the English drama. Dennis had, however,
great respect for Rymer’s ability. In the first letter to the _Spectator_
he says that Rymer “will always pass with impartial posterity for a most
learned, a most judicious, and a most useful critick”; and in the
_Characters and Conduct of Sir John Edgar_ he says that “there was a great
deal of good and just criticism” in the _Short View_.
In 1702 he brought out a “corrected” version of the _Merry Wives_ with the
title of the _Comical Gallant or the Amours of Sir John Falstaffe_. The
adaptation of _Coriolanus_, which was the occasion of the _Letters_ given
in this volume, appeared as the _Invader of his country, or the Fatal
Resentment_. It was produced at Drury Lane in November, 1719, but ran for
only three nights. It was published in 1720. An account of it will be
found in Genest’s _English Stage_, iii. 2-5. It is the subject of Dennis’s
letter to Steele of 26th March, 1719 (see Steele’s _Theatre_, ed. Nichols,
1791, ii. pp. 542, etc.).
Alexander Pope.
Pope’s edition of Shakespeare was published by Tonson in six quarto
volumes. The first appeared in 1725, as the title-page shows; all the
others are dated “1723.”
In the note to the line in the _Dunciad_ in which he laments his “ten
years to comment and translate,” Pope gives us to understand that he
prepared his edition of Shakespeare after he had completed the translation
of the _Iliad_ and before he set to work on the _Odyssey_. His own
correspondence, however, shows that he was engaged on Shakespeare and the
_Odyssey_ at the same time. There is some uncertainty as to when his
edition was begun. The inference to be drawn from a letter to Pope from
Atterbury is that it had been undertaken by August, 1721. We have more
definite information as to the date of its completion. In a letter to
Broome of 31st October, 1724, Pope writes: “Shakespear is finished. I have
just written the Preface, and in less than three weeks it will be public”
(Ed. Elwin and Courthope, viii. 88). But it did not appear till March.
Pope himself was partly to blame for the delay. In December we find Tonson
“impatient” for the return of the Preface (_id._ ix. 547). In the revision
of the text Pope was assisted by Fenton and Gay (see Reed’s Variorum
edition, 1803, ii. p. 149).
A seventh volume containing the poems was added in 1725, but Pope had no
share in it. It is a reprint of the supplementary volume of Rowe’s
edition, “the whole revised and corrected, with a Preface, by Dr. Sewell.”
The most prominent share in this volume of “Pope’s Shakespeare” thus fell
to Charles Gildon, who had attacked Pope in his _Art of Poetry_ and
elsewhere, and was to appear later in the _Dunciad_. Sewell’s preface is
dated Nov. 24, 1724.
Pope made few changes in his Preface in the second edition (1728, 8 vols.,
12mo). The chief difference is the inclusion of the _Double Falshood_,
which Theobald had produced in 1727 as Shakespeare’s, in the list of the
spurious plays.
The references in the Preface to the old actors were criticised by John
Roberts in 1729 in a pamphlet entitled _An Answer to Mr. Pope’s Preface to
Shakespear. In a Letter to a Friend. Being a Vindication of the Old Actors
who were the Publishers and Performers of that Author’s Plays.... By a
Stroling Player._
Lewis Theobald.
Theobald’s edition of Shakespeare (7 vols. 8vo) appeared in 1733. The
Preface was condensed in the second edition in 1740. It is here given in
its later form.
Theobald had long been interested in Shakespeare. In 1715 he had written
the _Cave of Poverty_, a poem “in imitation of Shakespeare,” and in 1720
he had brought out an adaptation of _Richard II_. But it was not till
1726—though the Dedication bears the date of March 18, 1725—that he
produced his first direct contribution to Shakespearian
scholarship,—_Shakespeare restored: or, a Specimen of the Many Errors, as
well Committed, as Unamended, by Mr. Pope in his Late Edition of this
Poet. Designed Not only to correct the said Edition, but to restore the
True Reading of Shakespeare in all the Editions ever yet publish’d._
We learn from a letter by Theobald dated 15th April, 1729, that he had
been in correspondence with Pope fully two years before the publication of
this volume. (See Nichols, _Illustrations of the Literary History of the
Eighteenth Century_, ii., p. 221). Pope, however, had not encouraged his
advances. In the same letter Theobald states that he had no design of
commenting on Shakespeare till he saw “how incorrect an edition Mr. Pope
had given the publick.” This remark was prompted by a note in the
_Dunciad_ of 1729, where it was stated that “during the space of two
years, while Mr. Pope was preparing his Edition of Shakespear, and
published advertisements, requesting all lovers of the author to
contribute to a more perfect one, this Restorer (who had then some
correspondence with him, and was solliciting favours by letters) did
wholly conceal his design, ’till after its publication.” But if Theobald
had not thought of issuing comments on Shakespeare’s plays till Pope’s
edition appeared, he must have known them well already, for _Shakespeare
Restored_ is not a hasty piece of work.
Despite the aggressiveness of the title, Theobald protests his regard for
Pope in such passages as these:
“It was no small Satisfaction therefore to me, when I first heard
Mr. _Pope_ had taken upon him the Publication of _Shakespeare_. I
very reasonably expected, from his known Talents and Abilities,
from his uncommon Sagacity and Discernment, and from his unwearied
Diligence and Care of informing himself by an happy and extensive
Conversation, we should have had our Author come out as perfect,
as the want of _Manuscripts_ and _original Copies_ could give us a
Possibility of hoping. I may dare to say, a great Number of
_Shakespeare_’s Admirers, and of Mr. _Pope_’s too, (both which I
sincerely declare myself,) concurred in this Expectation: For
there is a certain _curiosa felicitas_, as was said of an eminent
_Roman_ Poet, in that Gentleman’s Way of working, which, we
presum’d, would have laid itself out largely in such a Province;
and that he would not have sate down contented with performing, as
he calls it himself, the _dull Duty_ of an _Editor_ only.”
“I have so great an Esteem for Mr. _Pope_, and so high an Opinion
of his Genius and Excellencies, that I beg to be excused from the
least Intention of derogating from his Merits, in this Attempt to
restore the true Reading of _Shakespeare_. Tho’ I confess a
Veneration, almost rising to Idolatry, for the writings of this
inimitable Poet, I would be very loth even to do _him_ Justice at
the Expence of _that other_ Gentleman’s Character.”
Whether or not these declarations were sincere, they would hardly have
stayed the resentment of a less sensitive man than Pope when passage after
passage was pointed out where errors were “as well committed as
unamended.” Theobald even hazarded the roguish suggestion that the
bookseller had played his editor false by not sending him all the sheets
to revise; and he certainly showed that the readings of Rowe’s edition had
occasionally been adopted without the professed collation of the older
copies. The volume could raise no doubt of Theobald’s own diligence. The
chief part of it is devoted to an examination of the text of _Hamlet_, but
there is a long appendix dealing with readings in other plays, and in it
occurs the famous emendation of the line in _Henry V._ describing
Falstaff’s death,—“for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and _a’ babled of
green fields_.” It should be noted that the credit of this reading is not
entirely Theobald’s. He admits that in an edition “with some marginal
conjectures of a Gentleman sometime deceased” he found the emendation “and
_a’ talked_ of green fields.” Theobald’s share thus amounts to the
doubtful improvement of substituting _babbled_ for _talked_.
Though this volume has undoubted merits, it is not difficult to understand
why the name of Theobald came to convey to the eighteenth century the idea
of painful pedantry, and why one so eminently just as Johnson should have
dubbed him “a man of heavy diligence, with very slender powers.” While his
knowledge is indisputable, he has little or no delicacy of taste; his
style is dull and lumbering; and the mere fact that he dedicated his
_Shakespeare Restored_ to John Rich, the Covent Garden manager who
specialised in pantomime and played the part of harlequin, may at least
cast some doubt on his discretion. But he successfully attacked Pope where
he was weakest and where as an editor he should have been strongest. “From
this time,” in the words of Johnson, “Pope became an enemy to editors,
collators, commentators, and verbal critics; and hoped to persuade the
world that he had miscarried in this undertaking only by having a mind too
great for such minute employment.”
Not content with the errors pointed out in _Shakespeare Restored_—a quarto
volume of two hundred pages—Theobald continued his criticisms of Pope’s
edition in _Mist’s Journal_ and the _Daily Journal_, until he was ripe for
the _Dunciad_. Pope enthroned him as the hero of the poem, and so he
remained till he was replaced by Colley Cibber in 1741, when the
alteration necessitated several omissions. In the earlier editions
Theobald soliloquised thus:
Here studious I unlucky Moderns save,
Nor sleeps one error in its father’s grave,
Old puns restore, lost blunders nicely seek,
And crucify poor Shakespear once a week.
For thee I dim these eyes, and stuff this head,
With all such reading as was never read;
For the supplying, in the worst of days,
Notes to dull books, and prologues to dull plays;
For thee explain a thing ’till all men doubt it,
And write about it, Goddess, and about it.
Theobald is introduced also in the _Art of Sinking in Poetry_ among the
classes of authors described as swallows and eels: the former “are
eternally skimming and fluttering up and down, but all their agility is
employed to catch flies,” the latter “wrap themselves up in their own mud,
but are mighty nimble and pert.” About the same time, however, Pope
brought out the second edition (1728) of his Shakespeare, and in it he
incorporated some of Theobald’s conjectures, though his recognition of
their merit was grudging and even dishonestly inadequate. (See the preface
to the various readings at the end of the eighth volume, 1728.) Yet one’s
sympathies with Theobald are prejudiced by his ascription to Shakespeare
of the _Double Falshood, or the Distrest Lovers_, a play which was acted
in 1727 and printed in the following year. Theobald professed to have
revised it and adapted it to the stage. The question of authorship has not
been settled, but if Theobald is relieved from the imputation of forgery,
he must at least stand convicted of ignorance of the Shakespearian manner.
Pope at once recognised that the play was not Shakespeare’s, and added a
contemptuous reference to it in the second edition of his Preface. It was
the opinion of Farmer that the groundwork of the play was by Shirley (see
the _Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare_, p. 181).
Theobald now sought to revenge himself on Pope, and, in his own words, he
“purposed to reply only in Shakespeare” (Nichols, _id._ ii., p. 248). His
first plan was to publish a volume of _Remarks on Shakespeare_. On 15th
April, 1729, he says the volume “will now shortly appear in the world”
(id., p. 222), but on 6th November he writes to Warburton, “I know you
will not be displeased, if I should tell you in your ear, perhaps I may
venture to join the _Text_ to my _Remarks_” (_id._, p. 254). By the
following March he had definitely determined upon giving an edition of
Shakespeare, as appears from another letter to Warburton: “As it is
necessary I should now inform the publick that I mean to attempt to give
them an edition of that Poet’s [_i.e._ Shakespeare’s] text, together with
my corrections, I have concluded to give this notice, not only by
advertisements, but by an occasional pamphlet, which, in order to
retaliate some of our Editor’s kindnesses to me, I mean to call, _An Essay
upon Mr. Pope’s Judgment, extracted from his own Works; and humbly
addressed to him_” (_id._ ii., p. 551). Of this he forwards Warburton an
extract. The pamphlet does not appear to have been published. The
_Miscellany on Taste_ which he brought out anonymously in 1732 contains a
section entitled “Of Mr. Pope’s Taste of Shakespeare,” but this is merely
a reprint of the letter of 15th (or 16th) April, which had already been
printed in the _Daily Journal_. A considerable time elapsed before
arrangements for publication were completed, the interval being marked by
a temporary estrangement from Warburton and an unsuccessful candidature
for the laureateship. Articles with Tonson were signed in November, 1731
(_id._ ii., pp. 13, 618), and at the same time the correspondence with
Warburton was renewed. The edition did not appear till 1733. The Preface
had been begun about the end of 1731.
From March, 1729, with the short break in 1730, Theobald had been in
steady correspondence with Warburton, and most of his letters, with a few
of those of Warburton, have been preserved by Nichols (see _id._ ii., pp.
189, 607). But it would have been more fortunate for Theobald’s reputation
had they perished. The cruel contempt and bitterness of Warburton’s
references to him after their final estrangement may be offensive, but the
correspondence shows that they were not without some justification.
Theobald submits his conjectures anxiously to the judgment of Warburton,
and again and again Warburton saves him from himself. In one of the
letters Theobald rightly condemns Pope’s proposed insertion of “Francis
Drake” in the incomplete line at the end of the first scene of _Henry VI.,
Part 1._; but not content with this flawless piece of destructive
criticism he argues for inserting the words “and Cassiopeia.” The
probability is that if Warburton had not condemned the proposal it would
have appeared in Theobald’s edition. “With a just deference to your most
convincing reasons,” says Theobald, “I shall with great cheerfulness
banish it as a bad and unsupported conjecture” (_id._ ii., p. 477); and
this remark is typical of the whole correspondence. A considerable share
of the merit of Theobald’s edition—though the share is mostly
negative—belongs to Warburton, for Theobald had not taste enough to keep
him right when he stepped beyond collation of the older editions or
explanation by parallel passages. Indeed, the letters to Warburton,
besides helping to explain his reputation in the eighteenth century, would
in themselves be sufficient to justify his place in the _Dunciad_.
Warburton had undoubtedly given Theobald ungrudging assistance and was
plainly interested in the success of the edition. But as he had gauged
Theobald’s ability, he had some fears for the Preface. So at least we
gather from a letter which Theobald wrote to him on 18th November, 1731:
“I am extremely obliged for the tender concern you have for my
reputation in what I am _to prefix to my Edition_: and this part,
as it will come last in play, I shall certainly be so kind to
myself to communicate in due time to your perusal. The whole
affair of _Prolegomena_ I have determined to soften into
_Preface_. I am so very cool as to my sentiments of my Adversary’s
usage, that I think the publick should not be too largely troubled
with them. _Blockheadry_ is the chief hinge of his satire upon me;
and if my Edition do not wipe out that, I ought to be content to
let the charge be fixed; if it do, the reputation gained will be a
greater triumph than resentment. But, dear Sir, will you, at your
leisure hours, think over for me upon the contents, topics,
orders, etc., of this branch of my labour? You have a
comprehensive memory, and a happiness of digesting the matter
joined to it, which my head is often too much embarrassed to
perform; let that be the excuse for my inability. But how
unreasonable is it to expect this labour, when it is the only part
in which I shall not be able to be just to my friends: for, to
confess assistance in a _Preface_ will, I am afraid, make me
appear too naked. Rymer’s extravagant rancour against our Author,
under the umbrage of criticism, may, I presume, find a place here”
(_id._ ii., pp. 621, 622).
This confession of weakness is valuable in the light of Warburton’s
Preface to his own edition of 1747. His statement of the assistance he
rendered Theobald is rude and cruel, but it is easier to impugn his taste
than his truthfulness. Theobald did not merely ask for assistance in the
Preface; he received it too. Warburton expressed himself on this matter,
with his customary force and with a pleasing attention to detail, in a
letter to the Rev. Thomas Birch on 24th November, 1737. “You will see in
Theobald’s heap of disjointed stuff,” he says, “which he calls a Preface
to Shakespeare, an observation upon those poems [_i.e._ _L’Allegro_ and
_Il Penseroso_] which I made to him, and which he did not understand, and
so has made it a good deal obscure by contracting my note; for you must
understand that almost all that Preface (except what relates to
Shakespeare’s Life, and the foolish Greek conjectures at the end) was made
up of notes I sent him on particular passages, and which he has there
stitched together without head or tail” (Nichols, ii., p. 81). The Preface
is indeed a poor piece of patch-work. Examination of the footnotes
throughout the edition corroborates Warburton’s concluding statement. Some
of the annotations which have his name attached to them are repeated
almost verbatim (_e.g._ the note in _Love’s Labour’s Lost_ on the use of
music), while the comparison of Addison and Shakespeare is taken from a
letter written by Warburton to Concanen in 1726-7 (_id._ ii., pp. 195,
etc.). The inequality of the essay—the fitful succession of limp and acute
observations—can be explained only by ill-matched collaboration.
Warburton has himself indicated the extent of Theobald’s debt to him. In
his own copy of Theobald’s Shakespeare he marked the passages which he had
contributed to the Preface, as well as the notes “which Theobald deprived
him of and made his own,” and the volume is now in the Capell collection
in Trinity College, Cambridge. Mr. Churton Collins, in his attempt to
prove Theobald the greatest of Shakespearean editors, has said that “if in
this copy, which we have not had the opportunity of inspecting, Warburton
has laid claim to more than Theobald has assigned to him, we believe him
to be guilty of dishonesty even more detestable than that of which the
proofs are, as we have shown, indisputable.”(33) An inspection of the
Cambridge volume is not necessary to show that a passage in the Preface
has been conveyed from one of Warburton’s letters published by Nichols and
by Malone. Any defence of Theobald by an absolute refusal to believe
Warburton’s word can be of no value unless some proof be adduced that
Warburton was here untruthful, and it is peculiarly inept when Theobald’s
own page proclaims the theft. We know that Theobald asked Warburton for
assistance in the Preface, and gave warning that such assistance would not
be acknowledged. Warburton could have had no evil motive in marking those
passages in his _private_ copy; and there is surely a strong presumption
in favour of a man who deliberately goes over seven volumes, carefully
indicating the material which he considered his own. It happens that one
of the passages contains an unfriendly allusion to Pope. If Warburton
meant to be “dishonest”—and there could be no purpose in being dishonest
before he was Theobald’s enemy—why did he not disclaim this allusion some
years later? The simple explanation is that he marked the passages for his
own amusement while he was still on friendly terms with Theobald. They are
thirteen in number, and they vary in length from a few lines to two pages.
Four of them are undoubtedly his, and there is nothing to disprove that
the other nine are his also.(34)
Theobald quotes also from his own correspondence. On 17th March, 1729-30,
he had written to Warburton a long letter dealing with Shakespeare’s
knowledge of languages and including a specimen of his proposed pamphlet
against Pope. “Your most necessary caution against inconsistency, with
regard to my opinion of Shakespeare’s knowledge in languages,” he there
says characteristically, “shall not fail to have all its weight with me.
And therefore the passages that I occasionally quote from the Classics
shall not be brought as proofs that he imitated those originals, but to
shew how happily he has expressed themselves upon the same topics”
(Nichols, ii., pp. 564, etc.). This part of the letter is included
verbatim three years afterwards in the Preface. So also is the other
passage in the same letter replying to Pope on the subject of
Shakespeare’s anachronisms. Theobald borrows even from his own published
writings. Certain passages are reproduced from the Introduction to
_Shakespeare Restored_.
If Theobald could hardly acknowledge, as he said, the assistance he
received in writing the Preface, he at least admitted his editorial debt
to Warburton and others punctiliously and handsomely. After referring to
Dr. Thirlby of Jesus College, Cambridge, and Hawley Bishop, he thus writes
of his chief helper:
“To these, I must add the indefatigable Zeal and Industry of my
most ingenious and ever-respected Friend, the Reverend Mr.
_William Warburton_ of _Newark_ upon _Trent_. This Gentleman, from
the Motives of his frank and communicative Disposition,
voluntarily took a considerable Part of my Trouble off my Hands;
not only read over the whole Author for me, with the exactest
Care; but enter’d into a long and laborious Epistolary
Correspondence; to which I owe no small Part of my best Criticisms
upon my Author.
“The Number of Passages amended, and admirably Explained, which I
have taken care to distinguish with his Name, will shew a Fineness
of Spirit and Extent of Reading, beyond all the Commendations I
can give them: Nor, indeed, would I any farther be thought to
commend a Friend, than, in so doing, to give a Testimony of my own
Gratitude.”
So the preface read in 1733. But by the end of 1734 Warburton had
quarrelled with Theobald, and by 1740, after a passing friendship with Sir
Thomas Hanmer, had become definitely attached to the party of Pope. This
is probably the reason why, in the Preface to the second edition, Theobald
does not repeat the detailed statement of the assistance he had received.
He wisely omits also the long and irrelevant passage of Greek conjectures,
given with no other apparent reason than to parade his learning. And
several passages either claimed by Warburton (_e.g._ that referring to
Milton’s poems) or known to be his (_e.g._ the comparison of Addison and
Shakespeare) are also cancelled.
The merits of the text of Theobald’s edition are undeniable; but the text
is not to be taken as the sole measure of his ability. By his diligence in
collation he restored many of the original readings. His knowledge of
Elizabethan literature was turned to good account in the explanation and
illustration of the text. He claims to have read above eight hundred old
English plays “to ascertain the obsolete and uncommon phrases.” But when
we have spoken of his diligence, we have spoken of all for which, as an
editor, he was remarkable. Pope had good reason to say of him, though he
gave the criticism a wider application, that
Pains, reading, study are their just pretence,
And all they want is spirit, taste, and sense.
The inner history of his Preface would prove of itself that Theobald well
deserved the notoriety which he enjoyed in the eighteenth century.
Sir Thomas Hanmer.
Sir Thomas Hanmer’s edition of Shakespeare, in six handsome quarto
volumes, was printed at the Clarendon Press in 1743-44. As it appeared
anonymously it was commonly called the “Oxford edition.” It was well
known, however, that Hanmer was the editor. Vols. ii., iii., and iv. bear
the date 1743; the others, 1744.
Hanmer had been Speaker of the House of Commons from 1713 to 1715, and had
played an important part in securing the Protestant succession on the
death of Queen Anne. He retired from public life on the accession of
George II., and thereafter lived in “lettered ease” at his seat of
Mildenhall near Newmarket till his death in 1746. It is not known when he
undertook his edition of Shakespeare, but the idea of it was probably
suggested to him by the publication of Theobald’s edition in 1733. His
relative and biographer, Sir Henry Bunbury, writing in 1838, refers to a
copy of this edition with corrections and notes on the text of every play
in Hanmer’s handwriting. There can be no doubt, however, of the accuracy
of Warburton’s statement that his edition was printed from Pope’s, though
the hastiest examination will prove the falsity of Warburton’s other
remark that Hanmer neglected to compare Pope’s edition with Theobald’s. He
relied on Pope’s judgment as to the authenticity of passages and on
Theobald’s accuracy in collation. Thus while he omits lines which Pope had
omitted, or degrades them to the foot of the page, he often adopts
Theobald’s reading of a word or phrase.
He had certainly made considerable progress with the edition by May, 1738,
when he was visited by Warburton (see Nichols, _Illustrations_, ii. 44,
69). It was still incomplete in March, 1742, but it was sent to the
printer at the end of that year, as we learn from a letter of 30th
December to Zachary Grey, the editor of _Hudibras_: “I must now acquaint
you that the books are gone out of my hands, and lodged with the
University of Oxford, which hath been willing to accept of them as a
present from me. They intend to print them forthwith, in a fair impression
adorned with sculptures; but it will be so ordered that it will be the
cheapest book that ever was exposed to sale.... None are to go into the
hands of booksellers” (Nichols, _Literary Anecdotes_, v., p. 589). Earlier
in the year, in the important letter concerning his quarrel with
Warburton, which will be referred to later, he had spoken of his edition
in the following terms: “As to my own particular, I have no aim to pursue
in this affair; I propose neither honour, reward, or thanks, and should be
very well pleased to have the books continue upon their shelf, in my own
private closet. If it is thought they may be of use or pleasure to the
publick, I am willing to part with them out of my hands, and to add, for
the honour of Shakespear, some decorations and embellishments at my own
expense” (_id._ v., p. 589). The printing of the edition was not
supervised by Hanmer himself, but by Joseph Smith, Provost of Queen’s
College, and Robert Shippen, Principal of Brasenose. We find them
receiving instructions that there must be care in the correction of the
press, that the type must be as large as in Pope’s edition, but that the
paper must be better.
These facts are of interest in connection with Hanmer’s inclusion in the
fourth book of the _Dunciad_. In a note by Pope and Warburton he is
referred to as “an eminent person, who was about to publish a very pompous
edition of a great author, _at his own expense_”; and in the poem the
satire is maladroitly aimed at the handsomeness of the volumes. Warburton
afterwards implied that he was responsible for the inclusion of this
passage (_id._, p. 590), and though the claim is disputed by Hanmer’s
biographer, the ineffectiveness of the attack would prove that it was not
spontaneous. Pope, however, would yield to Warburton’s desire the more
readily if, as Sir Henry Bunbury had reason to believe, the anonymous
_Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_, published in 1736, was the work of
Hanmer,(35) for there Pope’s edition was compared unfavourably, though
courteously, with that of Theobald. (See the _Correspondence of Sir Thomas
Hanmer_, 1838, pp. 80, etc.)
William Warburton.
“The Works of Shakespear in Eight Volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with
all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled:
Being restored from the _Blunders_ of the first Editors, and the
_Interpolations_ of the two Last; with a Comment and Notes, Critical and
Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton. 1747.”
So runs the title of what is generally known as Warburton’s edition. It is
professedly a revised issue of Pope’s. In point of fact it is founded, not
on Pope’s text, but on the text of Theobald. Warburton does not follow
even Pope’s arrangement of the plays. With one insignificant
transposition, he gives them in the identical order in which they appear
in Theobald’s edition. And though he has his gibe at Hanmer in the title
page, he incorporates Hanmer’s glossary word for word, and almost letter
for letter. But his animosity betrays him in his Preface. He complains of
the trouble which he has been put to by the last two editors, for he has
had “not only their interpolations to throw out, but the genuine text to
replace and establish in its stead.” He would not have had this trouble
had he used Pope’s edition. He may have believed that what he took from
Hanmer and Theobald was very much less than what they had received from
him. According to his own statements he supplied each with a large number
of important emendations which had been used without acknowledgment. Yet
this does not excuse the suggestion that his edition was founded on
Pope’s.
The explanation is Warburton’s just pride in Pope’s friendship,—a pride
which he took every opportunity of gratifying and parading. But in his
earlier days he had been, all unknown to Pope, an enemy. He escaped the
_Dunciad_ by reason of his obscurity. He was the friend of Concanen and
Theobald, and in a letter to the former, containing his earliest extant
attempt at Shakespearian criticism, he observes that “Dryden borrows for
want of leisure, and Pope for want of genius.” The letter is dated 2nd
January, 1726-27, but luckily for Warburton it was not publicly known
till, in 1766, Akenside used it as a means of paying off old scores (see
Nichols, _Illustrations_, ii., pp. 195-198, and Malone’s Shakespeare,
1821, vol. xii., pp. 157, etc.). It is of interest also from the fact that
Theobald transcribed from it almost verbatim the comparison of Shakespeare
and Addison in the Preface of 1733.
Theobald’s deference and even humility must have confirmed Warburton’s
confidence in his own critical powers, but it was not till Theobald’s
Shakespeare was published that Warburton first hinted at an edition by
himself. From 1729 to 1733 he had given Theobald loyally of his best. On
the appearance of the edition he betrayed some annoyance that all his
suggestions had not been accepted. “I have transcribed about fifty
emendations and remarks,” he writes on 17th May, 1734, “which I have at
several times sent you, omitted in the Edition of Shakespeare, which, I am
sure, are better than any of mine published there. These I shall convey to
you soon, and desire you to publish them (as omitted by being mislaid) in
your Edition of the ‘Poems,’ which I hope you will soon make ready for the
press” (Nichols, _Illustrations_, ii., p. 634). These he duly forwarded,
along with a flattering criticism of the edition. He gives no hint that he
may himself turn them to account, till the October of the same year, when
he writes, “I have a great number of notes, etc., on Shakespeare, _for
some future Edition_” (_id._, p. 654). Here the correspondence ceases. Up
to this time Warburton had aided Theobald’s schemes of retaliating on
Pope. We have his own authority for attributing to him the remark in
Theobald’s Preface that “it seems a moot point whether Mr. Pope has done
most injury to Shakespeare as his Editor and Encomiast, or Mr. Rymer done
him service as his Rival and Censurer.” It is probable even that he had a
hand in Theobald’s and Concanen’s _Art of a Poet’s sinking in Reputation,
or a Supplement to the Art of sinking in Poetry_.
Warburton then gave his services to Sir Thomas Hanmer. They had become
acquainted by 1736, and they corresponded frequently till Warburton’s
visit to Mildenhall in May, 1737. It is needless to enter into their
quarrel, for the interest of it is purely personal. Hanmer told his
version of it to Joseph Smith, the Provost of Queen’s College, Oxford, in
his letter of 28th October, 1742, and Warburton gave his very different
account nineteen years later, on 29th January, 1761, when he discovered
that Hanmer’s letter was about to be published in the _Biographia
Britannica_. In the absence of further evidence it is impossible to decide
with whom the truth rests. The dignity of Hanmer’s letter wins favour by
contrast with the violence of Warburton’s. Yet there must be some truth in
Warburton’s circumstantial details, though his feelings may have prevented
his seeing them in proper perspective. He says that Hanmer used his notes
without his knowledge. The statement is probably accurate. But when Hanmer
says that Warburton’s notes were “sometimes just but mostly wild and out
of the way,” we are satisfied, from what we know of Warburton’s other
work, that the criticism was merited. Hanmer apparently found that
Warburton did not give him much help, and Warburton may have been annoyed
at failing to find Hanmer as docile as Theobald. They had quarrelled by
September, 1739, when Warburton records that he has got all his letters
and papers out of Sir Thomas Hanmer’s hands (Nichols, _Illustrations_, ii.
110. See also Nichols, _Literary Anecdotes_, v. 588-590; _Biographia
Britannica_, vol vi. (1763), pp. 3743-4, and appendix, p. 223; Philip
Nichols, _The Castrated Letter of Sir Thomas Hanmer_, 1763; and Bunbury,
_Correspondence of Hanmer_, pp. 85-90).
During his friendship with Hanmer, Warburton had not lost sight of his own
edition. The quarrel was precipitated by Hanmer’s discovery of Warburton’s
intention; but there is no evidence that Warburton had tried to conceal
it. Everything goes to show that each editor was so immersed in his own
scheme that he regarded the other as his collaborator. Hanmer did not know
at first that Warburton was planning an edition as a means of making some
money; and Warburton had not suspected that Hanmer would publish an
edition at all. This is the only reasonable inference to be drawn from a
letter written by him to the Rev. Thomas Birch in October, 1737. “You are
pleased to enquire about Shakespeare,” he writes. “I believe (to tell it
as a secret) I shall, after I have got the whole of this work out of my
hands which I am now engaged in, give an Edition of it to the world. Sir
Thomas Hanmer has a true critical genius, and has done great things in
this Author; so you may expect to see a very extraordinary edition of its
kind. I intend to draw up and prefix to it a just and complete critique on
Shakespeare and his Works.” This letter reads curiously in the light of
after events; but it proves, if it proves anything, that Warburton did not
suspect Hanmer’s scheme, and believed that Hanmer was helping him in his
edition. It is equally plain that Hanmer believed he was being helped by
Warburton.
Announcements of Warburton’s forthcoming edition were made in Birch’s
article on Shakespeare in the _General Dictionary, Historical and
Critical_, vol. ix., January, 1739-40, and in the _History of the Works of
the Learned_ for 1740 (Nichols, _Illustrations_, ii., pp. 72-4, and _Lit.
Anecdotes_, v., p. 559). But there were no signs of its appearance, and
Hanmer had good reason to say in October, 1742, in his letter to Joseph
Smith, “I am satisfied there is no edition coming or likely to come from
Warburton; but it is a report raised to support some little purpose or
other, of which I see there are many on foot.” Up to this time Warburton
had merely suggested emendations and puzzled out explanations: he had not
set to work seriously on the complete text. Since 1740, when he published
the _Vindication of the Essay on Man_, his critical and polemical talents
had been devoted to the service of Pope. To judge from what he says in his
Preface, his project of an edition of Shakespeare might have been
abandoned had not Pope persuaded him to proceed with it by the offer of
making it appear their joint work. Pope had nothing to do with it, for it
was not begun till after his death. But it was a cruel fate that what
professed to be a new edition of his “Shakespeare” should really be
founded on Theobald’s. The knowledge of Theobald’s use of the Quartos and
Folios led Warburton to commit a detestable quibble on his title-page.
There is said to be no evidence that Warburton himself had consulted them.
Yet the statement that his text is “collated with all the former editions”
is not absolutely without the bounds of truth: Theobald had consulted
them, and Warburton does not say that he had consulted them himself. What
Warburton did was to give full play to his talent for emendation, and to
indulge what Johnson called his rage for saying something when there is
nothing to be said. Yet we are too prone to depreciate Warburton. He has
prejudiced his reputation by his arrogance and his contemptuous malignity;
but we do him an injustice if we endeavour to gauge his merit only by
comparing his edition with those of his immediate predecessors. No early
editor of Shakespeare has gained more than Theobald and suffered more than
Warburton by the custom of attributing the whole merit of an edition to
him whose name is on the title page. When we read their correspondence and
see their editions in the making, it is not difficult to realise what
Johnson meant when he said that Warburton as a critic would make “two and
fifty Theobalds, cut into slices.”
Samuel Johnson.
Johnson’s Preface is here reprinted from the edition of 1777, the last to
appear in his lifetime. The more important of the few alterations made on
the original Preface of 1765 are pointed out in the notes.
In 1745 Johnson had published his _Miscellaneous Observations on the
Tragedy of Macbeth: with Remarks on Sir Thomas Hanmer’s Edition of
Shakespeare. To which is affixed Proposals for a new Edition of
Shakespeare, with a Specimen._ As Warburton’s edition was expected, this
anonymous scheme met with no encouragement, and Johnson laid it aside till
1756, when he issued new Proposals. In the interval he had written of
Shakespeare in the admirable Prologue which inaugurated Garrick’s rule at
Drury Lane, and had shadowed in the _Rambler_ and in the Dedication to
Mrs. Lennox’s _Shakespear Illustrated_ (1753) much of what was to appear
in perfect form in the Preface of 1765. It was one of the conditions in
the Proposals that the edition was to be published on or before Christmas,
1757. As in the case of the _Dictionary_ Johnson underestimated the labour
which such a work involved. In December, 1757, we find him saying that he
will publish about March, and in March he says it will be published before
summer. He must have made considerable progress at this time, as,
according to his own statement, “many of the plays” were then printed. But
its preparation was interrupted by the _Idler_ (April, 1758, to April,
1760). Thereafter Johnson would appear to have done little to it till he
was awakened to activity by the attack on him in Churchill’s _Ghost_
(1763). The edition at length appeared in October, 1765. “In 1764 and
1765,” says Boswell, “it should seem that Dr. Johnson was so busily
employed with his edition of _Shakespeare_ as to have had little leisure
for any other literary exertion, or indeed even for private
correspondence.” The Preface was also published by itself in 1765 with the
title—_Mr. Johnson’s Preface to his Edition of Shakespear’s Plays_.
The work immediately attracted great attention. Kenrick lost no time in
issuing _A Review of Doctor Johnson’s New Edition of Shakespeare: in which
the Ignorance or Inattention of that Editor is exposed, and the Poet
defended from the Persecution of his Commentators_, 1765. Johnson was
“above answering for himself,” but James Barclay, an Oxford student,
replied for him, to his annoyance, in _An Examination of Mr. Kenrick’s
Review_, 1766, and Kenrick himself rejoined in _A Defence of Mr. Kenrick’s
Review ... By a Friend_, 1766. The most important criticism of the edition
was Tyrwhitt’s _Observations and Conjectures upon some Passages of
Shakespeare_, issued anonymously by the Clarendon Press in 1766. Though we
read that “the author has not entered into the merits of Mr. Johnson’s
performance, but has set down some observations and conjectures,” the book
is in effect an examination of Johnson’s edition. Notices appeared also in
the _Monthly_ and _Critical Reviews_, the _London Magazine_, the
_Gentleman’s Magazine_, and the _Annual Register_. The _Monthly Review_
devotes its two articles (October and November, 1765) chiefly to the
Preface. It examines at considerable length Johnson’s arguments against
the “unities,” and concludes that “there is hardly one of them which does
not seem false or foreign to the subject.” The _Critical Review_, on the
other hand, pronounces them “worthy of Mr. Johnson’s pen”; and the _London
Magazine_ admits their force, though it wishes that Johnson had “rather
retained the character of a reasoner than assumed that of a pleader.”
Richard Farmer.
Farmer’s _Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare_ was published at Cambridge
early in January, 1767. In the Preface to the second and enlarged edition,
which appeared in the same year, Farmer says that “the few who have been
pleased to controvert any part of his doctrine have favoured him with
better manners than arguments.” This remark, like most of the Preface,
appears to be directed chiefly at the prejudiced notice which appeared in
the _Critical Review_ for January, 1767. The writer of it was well versed
in the controversy, for he had expressed his opinion unhesitatingly in an
earlier number, and he lost no time in advancing new evidence in
opposition to Farmer’s doctrine; but he only provided Farmer with new
proofs, which were at once incorporated in the text of the Essay. The
third edition, which was called for in 1789, differs from the second only
by the inclusion of a short “advertisement” and a final note explaining
that Farmer had abandoned his intention of publishing the _Antiquities of
Leicester_. In the “Advertisement” he admits that “a few corrections might
probably be made, and many additional proofs of the argument have
necessarily occurred in more than twenty years”; but he did not think it
necessary to make any changes. He was content to leave the book in the
hands of the printers, and accordingly he is still described on the
title-page as “Fellow of Emmanuel College, Cambridge,” though he had
succeeded to the mastership of his college in 1775.
Farmer had, however, already supplemented his Essay by a letter to
Steevens, who printed it as an appendix to his edition of Johnson’s
Shakespeare in 1773. “The track of reading,” says Farmer, “which I
sometime ago endeavoured to prove more immediately necessary to a
commentator on Shakespeare, you have very successfully followed, and have
consequently superseded some remarks which I might otherwise have troubled
you with. Those I now send you are such as I marked on the margin of the
copy you were so kind to communicate to me, and bear a very small
proportion to the miscellaneous collections of this sort which I may
probably put together some time or other.” Farmer did not carry out this
intention, and the _Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare_ remains his only
independent publication.
Maurice Morgann.
Morgann has himself told us in his Preface all that we know about the
composition of his _Essay on the Dramatic Character of Sir John Falstaff_.
The result of a challenge arising out of a friendly conversation, it was
written “in a very short time” in 1774, and then laid aside and almost
forgotten. But for the advice of friends it would probably have remained
in manuscript, and been destroyed, like his other critical works, at his
death. On their suggestion he revised and enlarged it, as hastily as he
had written it; and it appeared anonymously in the spring of 1777. The
original purpose of the Essay is indicated by the motto on the title-page:
“I am not John of Gaunt your grandfather, but yet no Coward, Hal”; but as
Morgann wrote he passed from Falstaff to the greater theme of Falstaff’s
creator. He was persuaded to publish his Essay because, though it dealt
nominally with one character, its main subject was the art of Shakespeare.
For the same reason it finds a place in this volume.
In 1744 Corbyn Morris had briefly analysed the character of Falstaff in
his _Essay towards fixing the true standards of Wit, Humour, Raillery,
Satire, and Ridicule_; Mrs. Montagu had expressed the common opinion of
his cowardice in her _Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare_;
the _Biographia Britannica_ had declared him to be Shakespeare’s
masterpiece; while his popularity had led Kenrick to produce in 1766
_Falstaff’s Wedding_ as a sequel to the second part of _Henry IV._; but
Morgann’s Essay is the first detailed examination of his character. He was
afterwards the subject of papers by Cumberland in the _Observer_ (1785,
No. 73), and by Henry Mackenzie in the _Lounger_ (1786, Nos. 68, 69), and
in 1789 he was described by Richardson in an essay which reproduced
Morgann’s title. None of these later works have the interest attaching to
James White’s _Falstaff’s Letters_ (1796).
The _Essay on Falstaff_ was republished, with a short biographical
preface, in 1820, and a third and last edition came out in 1825. What is
apparently the first detailed criticism of it occurs in the _London
Review_ for February, 1820.
NICHOLAS ROWE: SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE &C. OF MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR.
1709.
It seems to be a kind of respect due to the memory of excellent men,
especially of those whom their wit and learning have made famous, to
deliver some account of themselves, as well as their works, to Posterity.
For this reason, how fond do we see some people of discovering any little
personal story of the great men of Antiquity, their families, the common
accidents of their lives, and even their shape, make, and features have
been the subject of critical enquiries. How trifling soever this Curiosity
may seem to be, it is certainly very natural; and we are hardly satisfy’d
with an account of any remarkable person, ’till we have heard him
describ’d even to the very cloaths he wears. As for what relates to men of
letters, the knowledge of an Author may sometimes conduce to the better
understanding his book: And tho’ the Works of Mr. _Shakespear_ may seem to
many not to want a comment, yet I fancy some little account of the man
himself may not be thought improper to go along with them.
He was the son of Mr. _John Shakespear_, and was born at _Stratford_ upon
_Avon_, in _Warwickshire_, in _April_ 1564. His family, as appears by the
Register and publick Writings relating to that Town, were of good figure
and fashion there, and are mention’d as gentlemen. His father, who was a
considerable dealer in wool, had so large a family, ten children in all,
that tho’ he was his eldest son, he could give him no better education
than his own employment. He had bred him, ’tis true, for some time at a
Free-school, where ’tis probable he acquir’d that little _Latin_ he was
master of: But the narrowness of his circumstances, and the want of his
assistance at home, forc’d his father to withdraw him from thence, and
unhappily prevented his further proficiency in that language. It is
without controversie, that he had no knowledge of the writings of the
antient poets, not only from this reason, but from his works themselves,
where we find no traces of any thing that looks like an imitation of ’em;
the delicacy of his taste, and the natural bent of his own great _Genius_,
equal, if not superior to some of the best of theirs, would certainly have
led him to read and study ’em with so much pleasure, that some of their
fine images would naturally have insinuated themselves into, and been
mix’d with his own writings; so that his not copying at least something
from them, may be an argument of his never having read ’em. Whether his
ignorance of the Antients were a disadvantage to him or no, may admit of a
dispute: For tho’ the knowledge of ’em might have made him more correct,
yet it is not improbable but that the regularity and deference for them,
which would have attended that correctness, might have restrain’d some of
that fire, impetuosity, and even beautiful extravagance which we admire in
_Shakespear_: And I believe we are better pleas’d with those thoughts,
altogether new and uncommon, which his own imagination supply’d him so
abundantly with, than if he had given us the most beautiful passages out
of the _Greek_ and _Latin_ poets, and that in the most agreeable manner
that it was possible for a master of the _English_ language to deliver
’em. Some _Latin_ without question he did know, and one may see up and
down in his Plays how far his reading that way went: In _Love’s Labour
lost_, the Pedant comes out with a verse of _Mantuan_; and in _Titus
Andronicus_, one of the _Gothick_ princes, upon reading
Integer vitæ scelerisque purus
Non eget Mauri jaculis nec arcu—
says, “_Tis a verse in_ Horace, _but he remembers it out of his_ Grammar”:
which, I suppose, was the Author’s case. Whatever _Latin_ he had, ’tis
certain he understood _French_, as may be observ’d from many words and
sentences scatter’d up and down his Plays in that language; and especially
from one scene in _Henry_ the Fifth written wholly in it. Upon his leaving
school, he seems to have given intirely into that way of living which his
father propos’d to him; and in order to settle in the world after a family
manner, he thought fit to marry while he was yet very young. His wife was
the daughter of one _Hathaway_, said to have been a substantial yeoman in
the neighbourhood of _Stratford_. In this kind of settlement he continu’d
for some time, ’till an extravagance that he was guilty of forc’d him both
out of his country and that way of living which he had taken up; and tho’
it seem’d at first to be a blemish upon his good manners, and a misfortune
to him, yet it afterwards happily prov’d the occasion of exerting one of
the greatest _Genius_’s that ever was known in dramatick Poetry. He had,
by a misfortune common enough to young fellows, fallen into ill company;
and amongst them, some that made a frequent practice of Deer-stealing,
engag’d him with them more than once in robbing a Park that belong’d to
Sir _Thomas Lucy_ of _Cherlecot_ near _Stratford_. For this he was
prosecuted by that gentleman, as he thought, somewhat too severely; and in
order to revenge that ill usage, he made a ballad upon him. And tho’ this,
probably the first essay of his Poetry, be lost, yet it is said to have
been so very bitter, that it redoubled the prosecution against him to that
degree, that he was oblig’d to leave his business and family in
_Warwickshire_, for some time, and shelter himself in _London_.
It is at this time, and upon this accident, that he is said to have made
his first acquaintance in the Play-house. He was receiv’d into the Company
then in being, at first in a very mean rank; but his admirable wit, and
the natural turn of it to the stage, soon distinguish’d him, if not as an
extraordinary Actor, yet as an excellent Writer. His name is printed, as
the custom was in those times, amongst those of the other Players, before
some old Plays, but without any particular account of what sort of parts
he us’d to play; and tho’ I have inquir’d, I could never meet with any
further account of him this way, than that the top of his Performance was
the Ghost in his own _Hamlet_. I should have been much more pleas’d to
have learn’d from some certain authority, which was the first Play he
wrote; it would be without doubt a pleasure to any man, curious in things
of this kind, to see and know what was the first essay of a fancy like
_Shakespear_’s. Perhaps we are not to look for his beginnings, like those
of other authors, among their least perfect writings; art had so little,
and nature so large a share in what he did, that, for ought I know, the
performances of his youth, as they were the most vigorous, and had the
most fire and strength of imagination in ’em, were the best. I would not
be thought by this to mean, that his fancy was so loose and extravagant,
as to be independent on the rule and government of judgment; but that what
he thought, was commonly so great, so justly and rightly conceiv’d in it
self, that it wanted little or no correction, and was immediately approv’d
by an impartial judgment at the first sight. Mr. _Dryden_ seems to think
that _Pericles_ is one of his first Plays; but there is no judgment to be
form’d on that, since there is good reason to believe that the greatest
part of that Play was not written by him; tho’ it is own’d, some part of
it certainly was, particularly the last Act. But tho’ the order of time in
which the several pieces were written be generally uncertain, yet there
are passages in some few of them which seem to fix their dates. So the
_Chorus_ in the beginning of the fifth Act of _Henry_ V. by a compliment
very handsomly turn’d to the Earl of _Essex_, shews the Play to have been
written when that Lord was General for the Queen in _Ireland_: And his
Elogy upon Q. _Elizabeth_, and her successor K. _James_, in the latter end
of his _Henry_ VIII. is a proof of that Play’s being written after the
accession of the latter of those two Princes to the crown of _England_.
Whatever the particular times of his writing were, the people of his age,
who began to grow wonderfully fond of diversions of this kind, could not
but be highly pleas’d to see a _Genius_ arise amongst ’em of so
pleasurable, so rich a vein, and so plentifully capable of furnishing
their favourite entertainments. Besides the advantages of his wit, he was
in himself a good-natur’d man, of great sweetness in his manners, and a
most agreeable companion; so that it is no wonder if with so many good
qualities he made himself acquainted with the best conversations of those
times. Queen _Elizabeth_ had several of his Plays acted before her, and
without doubt gave him many gracious marks of her favour: It is that
maiden Princess plainly, whom he intends by
——A fair Vestal, Throned by the West.
_Midsummer Night’s Dream._
And that whole passage is a compliment very properly brought in, and very
handsomely apply’d to her. She was so well pleas’d with that admirable
character of _Falstaff_, in the two parts of _Henry_ the Fourth, that she
commanded him to continue it for one Play more, and to shew him in love.
This is said to be the occasion of his writing _The Merry Wives of_
Windsor. How well she was obey’d, the play it self is an admirable proof.
Upon this occasion it may not be improper to observe, that this part of
_Falstaff_ is said to have been written originally under the name of
_Oldcastle_; some of that family being then remaining, the Queen was
pleas’d to command him to alter it; upon which he made use of _Falstaff_.
The present offence was indeed avoided; but I don’t know whether the
Author may not have been somewhat to blame in his second choice, since it
is certain that Sir _John Falstaff_, who was a Knight of the Garter, and a
Lieutenant-general, was a name of distinguish’d merit in the wars in
_France_ in _Henry_ the Fifth’s and _Henry_ the Sixth’s times. What grace
soever the Queen conferr’d upon him, it was not to her only he ow’d the
fortune which the reputation of his wit made. He had the honour to meet
with many great and uncommon marks of favour and friendship from the Earl
of _Southampton_, famous in the histories of that time for his friendship
to the unfortunate Earl of _Essex_. It was to that noble Lord that he
dedicated his Poem of _Venus_ and _Adonis_, the only piece of his Poetry
which he ever publish’d himself, tho’ many of his Plays were
surrepticiously and lamely printed in his life-time. There is one instance
so singular in the magnificence of this Patron of _Shakespear_’s, that if
I had not been assur’d that the story was handed down by Sir _William
D’Avenant_, who was probably very well acquainted with his affairs, I
should not have ventur’d to have inserted, that my Lord _Southampton_ at
one time gave him a thousand pounds, to enable him to go through with a
purchase which he heard he had a mind to: A bounty very great, and very
rare at any time, and almost equal to that profuse generosity the present
age has shewn to _French_ Dancers and _Italian_ Eunuchs.
What particular habitude or friendships he contracted with private men, I
have not been able to learn, more than that every one who had a true taste
of merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and esteem
for him. His exceeding candor and good nature must certainly have inclin’d
all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the power of his wit
oblig’d the men of the most delicate knowledge and polite learning to
admire him. Amongst these was the incomparable Mr. _Edmond Spencer_, who
speaks of him in his _Tears of the Muses_, not only with the praises due
to a good Poet, but even lamenting his absence with the tenderness of a
friend. The passage is in _Thalia’s_ Complaint for the Decay of Dramatick
Poetry, and the Contempt the Stage then lay under, amongst his
Miscellaneous Works, _p._ 147.
And he the Man whom Nature’s self had made
To mock her self, and Truth to imitate
With friendly Counter under mimick Shade,
Our pleasant _Willy_, ah! is dead of late:
With whom all Joy and jolly Merriment
Is also deaded, and in Dolour drent.
Instead thereof, scoffing Scurrility
And scorning Folly with Contempt is crept,
Rolling in Rhimes of shameless Ribaudry,
Without Regard or due _Decorum_ kept;
Each idle Wit at will presumes to make,
And doth the Learned’s Task upon him take.
But that same gentle Spirit, from whose Pen
Large Streams of Honey and sweet _Nectar_ flow,
Scorning the Boldness of such base-born Men,
Which dare their Follies forth so rashly throw;
Doth rather choose to sit in idle Cell,
Than so himself to Mockery to sell.
I know some people have been of opinion, that _Shakespear_ is not meant by
_Willy_ in the first _stanza_ of these verses, because _Spencer_’s death
happen’d twenty years before _Shakespear_’s. But, besides that the
character is not applicable to any man of that time but himself, it is
plain by the last _stanza_ that Mr. _Spencer_ does not mean that he was
then really dead, but only that he had withdrawn himself from the publick,
or at least with-held his hand from writing, out of a disgust he had taken
at the then ill taste of the Town, and the mean condition of the Stage.
Mr. _Dryden_ was always of opinion these verses were meant of
_Shakespear_; and ’tis highly probable they were so, since he was three
and thirty years old at _Spencer_’s death; and his reputation in Poetry
must have been great enough before that time to have deserv’d what is here
said of him. His acquaintance with _Ben Johnson_ began with a remarkable
piece of humanity and good nature; Mr. _Johnson_, who was at that time
altogether unknown to the world, had offer’d one of his Plays to the
Players, in order to have it acted; and the persons into whose hands it
was put, after having turn’d it carelessly and superciliously over, were
just upon returning it to him with an ill-natur’d answer, that it would be
of no service to their Company, when _Shakespear_ luckily cast his eye
upon it, and found something so well in it as to engage him first to read
it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. _Johnson_ and his writings to
the publick. After this they were profess’d friends; tho’ I don’t know
whether the other ever made him an equal return of gentleness and
sincerity. _Ben_ was naturally proud and insolent, and in the days of his
reputation did so far take upon him the supremacy in wit, that he could
not but look with an evil eye upon any one that seem’d to stand in
competition with him. And if at times he has affected to commend him, it
has always been with some reserve, insinuating his uncorrectness, a
careless manner of writing, and want of judgment; the praise of seldom
altering or blotting out what he writ, which was given him by the Players
who were the first Publishers of his Works after his death, was what
_Johnson_ could not bear; he thought it impossible, perhaps, for another
man to strike out the greatest thoughts in the finest expression, and to
reach those excellencies of Poetry with the ease of a first imagination,
which himself with infinite labour and study could but hardly attain to.
_Johnson_ was certainly a very good scholar, and in that had the advantage
of _Shakespear_; tho’ at the same time I believe it must be allow’d, that
what Nature gave the latter, was more than a ballance for what Books had
given the former; and the judgment of a great man upon this occasion was,
I think, very just and proper. In a conversation between Sir _John
Suckling_, Sir _William D’Avenant_, _Endymion Porter_, Mr. _Hales_ of
_Eaton_, and _Ben Johnson_; Sir _John Suckling_, who was a profess’d
admirer of _Shakespear_, had undertaken his defence against _Ben Johnson_
with some warmth; Mr. _Hales_, who had sat still for some time, hearing
_Ben_ frequently reproaching him with the want of learning, and ignorance
of the Antients, told him at last, _That if Mr._ Shakespear _had not read
the Antients, he had likewise not stollen any thing from ’em_ (a fault the
other made no conscience of); _and that if he would produce any one Topick
finely treated by any one of them, he would undertake to shew something
upon the same subject at least as well written by_ Shakespear. _Johnson_
did indeed take a large liberty, even to the transcribing and translating
of whole scenes together; and sometimes, with all deference to so great a
name as his, not altogether for the advantage of the authors of whom he
borrow’d. And if _Augustus_ and _Virgil_ were really what he has made ’em
in a scene of his _Poetaster_, they are as odd an Emperor and a Poet as
ever met. _Shakespear_, on the other hand, was beholding to no body
farther than the foundation of the tale, the incidents were often his own,
and the writing intirely so. There is one Play of his, indeed, _The Comedy
of Errors_, in a great measure taken from the _Menæchmi_ of _Plautus_. How
that happen’d, I cannot easily divine, since, as I hinted before, I do not
take him to have been master of _Latin_ enough to read it in the original,
and I know of no translation of _Plautus_ so old as his time.
As I have not propos’d to my self to enter into a large and compleat
criticism upon _Shakespear_’s Works, so I suppose it will neither be
expected that I should take notice of the severe remarks that have been
formerly made upon him by Mr. _Rhymer_. I must confess, I can’t very well
see what could be the reason of his animadverting with so much sharpness,
upon the faults of a man excellent on most occasions, and whom all the
world ever was and will be inclin’d to have an esteem and veneration for.
If it was to shew his own knowledge in the Art of Poetry, besides that
there is a vanity in making that only his design, I question if there be
not many imperfections as well in those schemes and precepts he has given
for the direction of others, as well as in that sample of Tragedy which he
has written to shew the excellency of his own _Genius_. If he had a pique
against the man, and wrote on purpose to ruin a reputation so well
establish’d, he has had the mortification to fail altogether in his
attempt, and to see the world at least as fond of _Shakespear_ as of his
Critique. But I won’t believe a gentleman, and a good-natur’d man, capable
of the last intention. Whatever may have been his meaning, finding fault
is certainly the easiest task of knowledge, and commonly those men of good
judgment, who are likewise of good and gentle dispositions, abandon this
ungrateful province to the tyranny of pedants. If one would enter into the
beauties of _Shakespear_, there is a much larger, as well as a more
delightful field; but as I won’t prescribe to the tastes of other people,
so I will only take the liberty, with all due submission to the judgments
of others, to observe some of those things I have been pleas’d with in
looking him over.
His Plays are properly to be distinguish’d only into Comedies and
Tragedies. Those which are called Histories, and even some of his
Comedies, are really Tragedies, with a run or mixture of Comedy amongst
’em. That way of Trage-comedy was the common mistake of that age, and is
indeed become so agreeable to the _English_ taste, that tho’ the severer
Critiques among us cannot bear it, yet the generality of our audiences
seem to be better pleas’d with it than with an exact Tragedy. _The Merry
Wives of_ Windsor, _The Comedy of Errors_, and _The Taming of the Shrew_,
are all pure Comedy; the rest, however they are call’d, have something of
both kinds. ’Tis not very easy to determine which way of writing he was
most excellent in. There is certainly a great deal of entertainment in his
comical humours; and tho’ they did not then strike at all ranks of people,
as the Satyr of the present age has taken the liberty to do, yet there is
a pleasing and a well-distinguish’d variety in those characters which he
thought fit to meddle with. _Falstaff_ is allow’d by every body to be a
master-piece; the Character is always well-sustain’d, tho’ drawn out into
the length of three Plays; and even the account of his death, given by his
old landlady Mrs. _Quickly_, in the first act of _Henry_ V., tho’ it be
extremely natural, is yet as diverting as any part of his life. If there
be any fault in the draught he has made of this lewd old fellow, it is,
that tho’ he has made him a thief, lying, cowardly, vain-glorious, and in
short every way vicious, yet he has given him so much wit as to make him
almost too agreeable; and I don’t know whether some people have not, in
remembrance of the diversion he had formerly afforded ’em, been sorry to
see his friend _Hal_ use him so scurvily, when he comes to the crown in
the end of the second part of _Henry_ the Fourth. Amongst other
extravagances, in _The Merry Wives of_ Windsor, he has made him a
Deer-stealer, that he might at the same time remember his _Warwickshire_
prosecutor, under the name of Justice _Shallow_; he has given him very
near the same coat of arms which _Dugdale_, in his Antiquities of that
county, describes for a family there, and makes the _Welsh_ parson descant
very pleasantly upon ’em. That whole play is admirable; the humours are
various and well oppos’d; the main design, which is to cure _Ford_ of his
unreasonable jealousie, is extremely well conducted. _Falstaff’s
Billet-Doux_, and Master _Slender_’s
Ah! Sweet _Ann Page_!
are very good expressions of love in their way. In _Twelfth-Night_ there
is something singularly ridiculous and pleasant in the fantastical steward
_Malvolio_. The parasite and the vain-glorious in _Parolles_, in _All’s
Well that ends Well_, is as good as any thing of that kind in _Plautus_ or
_Terence_. _Petruchio_, in _The Taming of the Shrew_, is an uncommon piece
of humour. The conversation of _Benedick_ and _Beatrice_, in _Much Ado
about Nothing_, and of _Rosalind_ in _As you like it_, have much wit and
sprightliness all along. His clowns, without which character there was
hardly any play writ in that time, are all very entertaining: And, I
believe, _Thersites_ in _Troilus_ and _Cressida_, and _Apemantus_ in
_Timon_, will be allow’d to be master-pieces of ill nature and satyrical
snarling. To these I might add that incomparable character of _Shylock_
the _Jew_ in _The Merchant of_ Venice; but tho’ we have seen that play
receiv’d and acted as a Comedy, and the part of the _Jew_ perform’d by an
excellent Comedian, yet I cannot but think it was design’d tragically by
the Author. There appears in it such a deadly spirit of revenge, such a
savage fierceness and fellness, and such a bloody designation of cruelty
and mischief, as cannot agree either with the stile or characters of
Comedy. The Play it self, take it all together, seems to me to be one of
the most finish’d of any of _Shakespear_’s. The tale indeed, in that part
relating to the caskets, and the extravagant and unusual kind of bond
given by _Antonio_, is a little too much remov’d from the rules of
probability: But taking the fact for granted, we must allow it to be very
beautifully written. There is something in the friendship of _Antonio_ to
_Bassanio_ very great, generous, and tender. The whole fourth act,
supposing, as I said, the fact to be probable, is extremely fine. But
there are two passages that deserve a particular notice. The first is,
what _Portia_ says in praise of mercy, and the other on the power of
musick. The melancholy of _Jaques_, in _As you like it_, is as singular
and odd as it is diverting. And if what _Horace_ says,
Difficile est proprie communia dicere,
’twill be a hard task for any one to go beyond him in the description of
the several degrees and ages of man’s life, tho’ the thought be old, and
common enough.
——All the World’s a Stage,
And all the men and women meerly Players;
They have their Exits and their Entrances,
And one man in his time plays many Parts,
His Acts being seven Ages. At first the Infant
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms:
And then, the whining School-boy with his satchel,
And shining morning-face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the Lover
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his Mistress’ eye-brow. Then a Soldier
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the Pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble Reputation
Ev’n in the cannon’s mouth. And then the Justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth Age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d Pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice
Turning again tow’rd childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound: Last Scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful History,
Is second childishness and meer oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans ev’ry thing.
His Images are indeed ev’ry where so lively, that the thing he would
represent stands full before you, and you possess ev’ry part of it. I will
venture to point out one more, which is, I think, as strong and as
uncommon as any thing I ever saw; ’tis an image of Patience. Speaking of a
maid in love, he says,
——She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i’th’ bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: She pin’d in thought,
And sate like _Patience_ on a monument,
Smiling at _Grief_.
What an Image is here given! and what a task would it have been for the
greatest masters of _Greece_ and _Rome_ to have express’d the passions
design’d by this sketch of Statuary! The stile of his Comedy is, in
general, natural to the characters, and easie in it self; and the wit most
commonly sprightly and pleasing, except in those places where he runs into
dogrel rhymes, as in _The Comedy of Errors_, and a passage or two in some
other plays. As for his jingling sometimes, and playing upon words, it was
the common vice of the age he liv’d in: And if we find it in the Pulpit,
made use of as an ornament to the Sermons of some of the gravest Divines
of those times; perhaps it may not be thought too light for the Stage.
But certainly the greatness of this Author’s genius do’s no where so much
appear, as where he gives his imagination an entire loose, and raises his
fancy to a flight above mankind and the limits of the visible world. Such
are his attempts in _The Tempest_, _Midsummer Nights Dream_, _Macbeth_,
and _Hamlet_. Of these, _The Tempest_, however it comes to be plac’d the
first by the former publishers of his works, can never have been the first
written by him: It seems to me as perfect in its kind, as almost any thing
we have of his. One may observe, that the Unities are kept here, with an
exactness uncommon to the liberties of his writing; tho’ that was what, I
suppose, he valu’d himself least upon, since his excellencies were all of
another kind. I am very sensible that he do’s, in this play, depart too
much from that likeness to truth which ought to be observ’d in these sort
of writings; yet he do’s it so very finely, that one is easily drawn in to
have more faith for his sake, than reason does well allow of. His Magick
has something in it very solemn and very poetical: And that extravagant
character of _Caliban_ is mighty well sustain’d, shews a wonderful
invention in the Author, who could strike out such a particular wild
image, and is certainly one of the finest and most uncommon Grotesques
that was ever seen. The observation, which I have been inform’d(36) three
very great men concurr’d in making upon this part, was extremely just:
_That_ Shakespear _had not only found out a new Character in his_ Caliban,
_but had also devis’d and adapted a new manner of Language for that
Character_. Among the particular beauties of this piece, I think one may
be allow’d to point out the tale of _Prospero_ in the first Act; his
speech to _Ferdinand_ in the fourth, upon the breaking up the masque of
_Juno_ and _Ceres_; and that in the fifth, when he dissolves his charms,
and resolves to break his magick rod. This Play has been alter’d by Sir
_William D’Avenant_ and Mr. _Dryden_; and tho’ I won’t arraign the
judgment of those two great men, yet I think I may be allow’d to say, that
there are some things left out by them, that might, and even ought to have
been kept in. Mr. _Dryden_ was an admirer of our Author, and, indeed, he
owed him a great deal, as those who have read them both may very easily
observe. And, I think, in justice to ’em both, I should not on this
occasion omit what Mr. _Dryden_ has said of him.
_Shakespear_, who, taught by none, did first impart
To _Fletcher_ Wit, to lab’ring _Johnson_ Art:
He, monarch-like, gave those his subjects Law,
And is that Nature which they paint and draw.
_Fletcher_ reach’d that which on his heights did grow,
Whilst _Johnson_ crept and gather’d all below:
This did his Love, and this his Mirth digest,
One imitates him most, the other best.
If they have since out-writ all other men,
’Tis with the drops which fell from _Shakespear_’s pen.
The(37) Storm which vanish’d on the neighb’ring shoar,
Was taught by _Shakespear_’s Tempest first to roar.
That innocence and beauty which did smile
In _Fletcher_, grew on this _Enchanted Isle_.
But _Shakespear_’s Magick could not copied be,
Within that Circle none durst walk but he.
I must confess ’twas bold, nor would you now
That liberty to vulgar Wits allow,
Which works by Magick supernatural things:
But _Shakespear_’s Pow’r is Sacred as a King’s.
Prologue to _The Tempest_, as it is alter’d by Mr. _Dryden_.
It is the same magick that raises the Fairies in _Midsummer Night’s
Dream_, the Witches in _Macbeth_, and the Ghost in _Hamlet_, with thoughts
and language so proper to the parts they sustain, and so peculiar to the
talent of this Writer. But of the two last of these Plays I shall have
occasion to take notice, among the Tragedies of Mr. _Shakespear_. If one
undertook to examine the greatest part of these by those rules which are
establish’d by _Aristotle_, and taken from the model of the _Grecian_
stage, it would be no very hard task to find a great many faults: But as
_Shakespear_ liv’d under a kind of mere light of nature, and had never
been made acquainted with the regularity of those written precepts, so it
would be hard to judge him by a law he knew nothing of. We are to consider
him as a man that liv’d in a state of almost universal licence and
ignorance: There was no establish’d judge, but every one took the liberty
to write according to the dictates of his own fancy. When one considers
that there is not one play before him of a reputation good enough to
entitle it to an appearance on the present Stage, it cannot but be a
matter of great wonder that he should advance dramatick Poetry so far as
he did. The Fable is what is generally plac’d the first, among those that
are reckon’d the constituent parts of a Tragick or Heroick Poem; not,
perhaps, as it is the most difficult or beautiful, but as it is the first
properly to be thought of in the contrivance and course of the whole; and
with the Fable ought to be consider’d the fit Disposition, Order, and
Conduct of its several parts. As it is not in this province of the _Drama_
that the strength and mastery of _Shakespear_ lay, so I shall not
undertake the tedious and ill-natur’d trouble to point out the several
faults he was guilty of in it. His Tales were seldom invented, but rather
taken either from true History, or Novels and Romances: And he commonly
made use of ’em in that order, with those incidents, and that extent of
time in which he found ’em in the Authors from whence he borrow’d them. So
_The Winter’s Tale_, which is taken from an old book, call’d _The
Delectable History of_ Dorastus _and_ Faunia, contains the space of
sixteen or seventeen years, and the Scene is sometimes laid in _Bohemia_,
and sometimes in _Sicily_, according to the original order of the Story.
Almost all his historical Plays comprehend a great length of time, and
very different and distinct places: And in his _Antony_ and _Cleopatra_,
the Scene travels over the greatest part of the _Roman_ empire. But in
recompence for his carelessness in this point, when he comes to another
part of the _Drama, The Manners of his Characters, in acting or speaking
what is proper for them, and fit to be shown by the Poet_, he may be
generally justify’d, and in very many places greatly commended. For those
Plays which he has taken from the _English_ or _Roman_ history, let any
man compare ’em, and he will find the character as exact in the Poet as
the Historian. He seems indeed so far from proposing to himself any one
action for a Subject, that the Title very often tells you, ’tis _The Life
of King_ John, _King_ Richard, _&c._ What can be more agreeable to the
idea our historians give of _Henry_ the Sixth, than the picture
_Shakespear_ has drawn of him! His Manners are every where exactly the
same with the story; one finds him still describ’d with simplicity,
passive sanctity, want of courage, weakness of mind, and easie submission
to the governance of an imperious Wife, or prevailing Faction: Tho’ at the
same time the Poet do’s justice to his good qualities, and moves the pity
of his audience for him, by showing him pious, disinterested, a contemner
of the things of this world, and wholly resign’d to the severest
dispensations of God’s providence. There is a short Scene in the second
part of _Henry_ VI., which I cannot but think admirable in its kind.
Cardinal _Beaufort_, who had murder’d the Duke of _Gloucester_, is shewn
in the last agonies on his death-bed, with the good King praying over him.
There is so much terror in one, so much tenderness and moving piety in the
other, as must touch any one who is capable either of fear or pity. In his
_Henry_ VIII. that Prince is drawn with that greatness of mind, and all
those good qualities which are attributed to him in any account of his
reign. If his faults are not shewn in an equal degree, and the shades in
this picture do not bear a just proportion to the lights, it is not that
the Artist wanted either colours or skill in the disposition of ’em; but
the truth, I believe, might be, that he forbore doing it out of regard to
Queen _Elizabeth_, since it could have been no very great respect to the
memory of his Mistress, to have expos’d some certain parts of her father’s
life upon the stage. He has dealt much more freely with the Minister of
that great King, and certainly nothing was ever more justly written, than
the character of Cardinal _Wolsey_. He has shewn him tyrannical, cruel,
and insolent in his prosperity; and yet, by a wonderful address, he makes
his fall and ruin the subject of general compassion. The whole man, with
his vices and virtues, is finely and exactly describ’d in the second Scene
of the fourth Act. The distresses likewise of Queen _Katherine_, in this
Play, are very movingly touch’d; and tho’ the art of the Poet has skreen’d
King _Henry_ from any gross imputation of injustice, yet one is inclin’d
to wish, the Queen had met with a fortune more worthy of her birth and
virtue. Nor are the Manners, proper to the persons represented, less
justly observ’d in those characters taken from the _Roman_ History; and of
this, the fierceness and impatience of _Coriolanus_, his courage and
disdain of the common people, the virtue and philosophical temper of
_Brutus_, and the irregular greatness of mind in _M. Antony_, are
beautiful proofs. For the two last especially, you find ’em exactly as
they are describ’d by _Plutarch_, from whom certainly _Shakespear_ copy’d
’em. He has indeed follow’d his original pretty close, and taken in
several little incidents that might have been spar’d in a Play. But, as I
hinted before, his design seems most commonly rather to describe those
great men in the several fortunes and accidents of their lives, than to
take any single great action, and form his work simply upon that. However,
there are some of his pieces, where the Fable is founded upon one action
only. Such are more especially, _Romeo_ and _Juliet_, _Hamlet_, and
_Othello_. The design in _Romeo_ and _Juliet_ is plainly the punishment of
their two families, for the unreasonable feuds and animosities that had
been so long kept up between ’em, and occasion’d the effusion of so much
blood. In the management of this story, he has shewn something wonderfully
tender and passionate in the love-part, and very pitiful in the distress.
_Hamlet_ is founded on much the same Tale with the _Electra_ of
_Sophocles_. In each of ’em a young Prince is engag’d to revenge the death
of his father, their mothers are equally guilty, are both concern’d in the
murder of their husbands, and are afterwards married to the murderers.
There is in the first part of the _Greek_ Tragedy, something very moving
in the grief of _Electra_; but as Mr. _D’Acier_ has observ’d, there is
something very unnatural and shocking in the Manners he has given that
Princess and _Orestes_ in the latter part. _Orestes_ embrues his hands in
the blood of his own mother; and that barbarous action is perform’d, tho’
not immediately upon the stage, yet so near, that the audience hear
_Clytemnestra_ crying out to _Ægysthus_ for help, and to her son for
mercy: While _Electra_, her daughter, and a Princess, both of them
characters that ought to have appear’d with more decency, stands upon the
stage and encourages her brother in the parricide. What horror does this
not raise! _Clytemnestra_ was a wicked woman, and had deserv’d to die;
nay, in the truth of the story, she was kill’d by her own son; but to
represent an action of this kind on the stage, is certainly an offence
against those rules of manners proper to the persons, that ought to be
observ’d there. On the contrary, let us only look a little on the conduct
of _Shakespear_. _Hamlet_ is represented with the same piety towards his
father, and resolution to revenge his death, as _Orestes_; he has the same
abhorrence for his mother’s guilt, which, to provoke him the more, is
heighten’d by incest: But ’tis with wonderful art and justness of
judgment, that the Poet restrains him from doing violence to his mother.
To prevent any thing of that kind, he makes his father’s Ghost forbid that
part of his vengeance.
But howsoever thou pursu’st this Act,
Taint not thy mind; nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother ought; leave her to Heav’n,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.
This is to distinguish rightly between _Horror_ and _Terror_. The latter
is a proper passion of Tragedy, but the former ought always to be
carefully avoided. And certainly no dramatick Writer ever succeeded better
in raising _Terror_ in the minds of an audience than _Shakespear_ has
done. The whole Tragedy of _Macbeth_, but more especially the scene where
the King is murder’d, in the second Act, as well as this Play, is a noble
proof of that manly spirit with which he writ; and both shew how powerful
he was, in giving the strongest motions to our souls that they are capable
of. I cannot leave _Hamlet_ without taking notice of the advantage with
which we have seen this Master-piece of _Shakespear_ distinguish it self
upon the stage, by Mr. _Betterton_’s fine performance of that part: A man
who, tho’ he had no other good qualities, as he has a great many, must
have made his way into the esteem of all men of letters, by this only
excellency. No man is better acquainted with _Shakespear_’s manner of
expression, and indeed he has study’d him so well, and is so much a master
of him, that whatever part of his he performs, he does it as if it had
been written on purpose for him, and that the Author had exactly conceiv’d
it as he plays it. I must own a particular obligation to him, for the most
considerable part of the passages relating to this life, which I have here
transmitted to the publick; his veneration for the memory of _Shakespear_
having engaged him to make a journey into _Warwickshire_, on purpose to
gather up what remains he could of a name for which he had so great a
value. Since I had at first resolv’d not to enter into any critical
controversie, I won’t pretend to enquire into the justness of Mr.
_Rhymer_’s Remarks on _Othello_; he has certainly pointed out some faults
very judiciously; and indeed they are such as most people will agree, with
him, to be faults: But I wish he would likewise have observ’d some of the
beauties too; as I think it became an exact and equal Critique to do. It
seems strange that he should allow nothing good in the whole: If the Fable
and Incidents are not to his taste, yet the Thoughts are almost every
where very noble, and the Diction manly and proper. These last, indeed,
are parts of _Shakespear_’s praise, which it would be very hard to dispute
with him. His Sentiments and Images of things are great and natural; and
his Expression (tho’ perhaps in some instances a little irregular) just,
and rais’d in proportion to his subject and occasion. It would be even
endless to mention the particular instances that might be given of this
kind: But his Book is in the possession of the publick, and ’twill be hard
to dip into any part of it, without finding what I have said of him made
good.
The latter part of his life was spent, as all men of good sense will wish
theirs may be, in ease, retirement, and the conversation of his friends.
He had the good fortune to gather an estate equal to his occasion, and, in
that, to his wish; and is said to have spent some years before his death
at his native _Stratford_. His pleasurable wit, and good nature, engag’d
him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship of the
gentlemen of the neighbourhood. Amongst them, it is a story almost still
remember’d in that country, that he had a particular intimacy with Mr.
_Combe_, an old gentleman noted thereabouts for his wealth and usury: It
happen’d, that in a pleasant conversation amongst their common friends,
Mr. _Combe_ told _Shakespear_ in a laughing manner, that he fancy’d he
intended to write his Epitaph, if he happen’d to out-live him; and since
he could not know what might be said of him when he was dead, he desir’d
it might be done immediately: Upon which _Shakespear_ gave him these four
verses.
Ten in the hundred lies here ingrav’d,
’Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not sav’d:
If any man ask, Who lies in this tomb?
Oh! ho! quoth the devil, ’tis my _John-a-Combe_.
But the sharpness of the Satyr is said to have stung the man so severely,
that he never forgave it.
He dy’d in the 53d year of his age, and was bury’d on the north side of
the chancel, in the great church at _Stratford_, where a monument, as
engrav’d in the plate, is plac’d in the wall. On his Grave-stone
underneath is,
Good friend, for Jesus sake, forbear
To dig the dust inclosed here.
Blest be the man that spares these stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones.
He had three daughters, of which two liv’d to be marry’d; _Judith_, the
elder, to one Mr. _Thomas Quiney_, by whom she had three Sons, who all
dy’d without children; and _Susannah_, who was his favourite, to Dr. _John
Hall_, a physician of good reputation in that country. She left one child
only, a daughter, who was marry’d first to _Thomas Nash_, Esq; and
afterwards to Sir _John Bernard_ of _Abington_, but dy’d likewise without
issue.
This is what I could learn of any note, either relating to himself or
family: The character of the man is best seen in his writings. But since
_Ben Johnson_ has made a sort of an essay towards it in his _Discoveries_,
tho’, as I have before hinted, he was not very cordial in his friendship,
I will venture to give it in his words.
“I remember the Players have often mention’d it as an honour to
_Shakespear_, that in writing (whatsoever he penn’d) he never blotted out
a line. My answer hath been, _Would he had blotted a thousand_, which they
thought a malevolent speech. I had not told posterity this, but for their
ignorance, who chose that circumstance to commend their friend by, wherein
he most faulted: And to justifie mine own candor (for I lov’d the man, and
do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any). He was,
indeed, honest, and of an open and free nature, had an excellent fancy,
brave notions, and gentle expressions; wherein he flow’d with that
facility, that sometimes it was necessary he should be stopp’d:
_Sufflaminandus erat_, as _Augustus_ said of _Haterius_. His wit was in
his own power, would the rule of it had been so too. Many times he fell
into those things could not escape laughter; as when he said in the person
of _Cæsar_, one speaking to him,
_Cæsar_ thou dost me wrong.
He reply’d:
_Cæsar_ did never wrong, but with just cause.
and such like, which were ridiculous. But he redeem’d his vices with his
virtues: There was ever more in him to be prais’d than to be pardon’d.”
As for the passage which he mentions out of _Shakespear_, there is
somewhat like it in _Julius Cæsar_, but without the absurdity; nor did I
ever meet with it in any edition that I have seen, as quoted by Mr.
_Johnson_. Besides his plays in this edition, there are two or three
ascrib’d to him by Mr. _Langbain_, which I have never seen, and know
nothing of. He writ likewise, _Venus_ and _Adonis_, and _Tarquin_ and
_Lucrece_, in stanza’s, which have been printed in a late collection of
Poems. As to the character given of him by _Ben Johnson_, there is a good
deal true in it: But I believe it may be as well express’d by what
_Horace_ says of the first _Romans_, who wrote Tragedy upon the _Greek_
models (or indeed translated ’em), in his epistle to _Augustus_.
—— Natura sublimis & Acer,
Nam spirat Tragicum satis & feliciter Audet,
Sed turpem putat in Chartis metuitque Lituram.
There is a Book of Poems, publish’d in 1640, under the name of Mr.
_William Shakespear_, but as I have but very lately seen it, without an
opportunity of making any judgment upon it, I won’t pretend to determine,
whether it be his or no.