The Attempt to write upon SHAKESPEARE is like going into a large, a
spacious, and a splendid Dome thro’ the Conveyance of a narrow and obscure
Entry. A Glare of Light suddenly breaks upon you beyond what the Avenue at
first promis’d: and a thousand Beauties of Genius and Character, like so
many gaudy Apartments pouring at once upon the Eye, diffuse and throw
themselves out to the Mind. The Prospect is too wide to come within the
Compass of a single View: ’tis a gay Confusion of pleasing Objects, too
various to be enjoyed but in a general Admiration; and they must be
separated, and ey’d distinctly, in order to give the proper Entertainment.
And as in great Piles of Building, some Parts are often finish’d up to hit
the Taste of the _Connoisseur_; others more negligently put together, to
strike the Fancy of a common and unlearned Beholder: Some Parts are made
stupendously magnificent and grand, to surprize with the vast Design and
Execution of the Architect; others are contracted, to amuse you with his
Neatness and Elegance in little. So, in _Shakespeare_, we may find
_Traits_ that will stand the Test of the severest Judgment; and Strokes as
carelessly hit off, to the Level of the more ordinary Capacities: Some
Descriptions rais’d to that Pitch of Grandeur, as to astonish you with the
Compass and Elevation of his Thought; and others copying Nature within so
narrow, so confined a Circle, as if the Author’s Talent lay only at
drawing in Miniature.
In how many points of Light must we be obliged to gaze at this great Poet!
In how many Branches of Excellence to consider and admire him! Whether we
view him on the Side of Art or Nature, he ought equally to engage our
Attention: Whether we respect the Force and Greatness of his Genius, the
Extent of his Knowledge and Reading, the Power and Address with which he
throws out and applies either Nature or Learning, there is ample scope
both for our Wonder and Pleasure. If his Diction and the cloathing of his
Thoughts attract us, how much more must we be charm’d with the Richness
and Variety of his Images and Ideas! If his Images and Ideas steal into
our Souls, and strike upon our Fancy, how much are they improv’d in Price,
when we come to reflect with what Propriety and Justness they are apply’d
to Character! If we look into his Characters, and how they are furnish’d
and proportion’d to the Employment he cuts out for them, how are we taken
up with the Mastery of his Portraits! What Draughts of Nature! What
Variety of Originals, and how differing each from the other! How are they
dress’d from the Stores of his own luxurious Imagination; without being
the Apes of Mode, or borrowing from any foreign Wardrobe! Each of them are
the standards of Fashion for themselves: like Gentlemen that are above the
Direction of their Tailors, and can adorn themselves without the aid of
Imitation. If other Poets draw more than one Fool or Coxcomb, there is the
same Resemblance in them as in that Painter’s Draughts, who was happy only
at forming a Rose: you find them all younger Brothers of the same Family,
and all of them have a Pretence to give the same Crest: But
_Shakespeare_’s Clowns and Fops come all of a different House; they are no
farther allied to one another than as Man to Man, Members of the same
Species: but as different in Features and Lineaments of Character, as we
are from one another in Face or Complexion. But I am unawares lanching
into his Character as a Writer, before I have said what I intended of him
as a private Member of the Republick.
Mr. _Rowe_ has very justly observ’d, that People are fond of discovering
any little personal Story of the Great Men of Antiquity; and that the
common Accidents of their Lives naturally become the Subject of our
critical Enquiries: That however trifling such a Curiosity at the first
View may appear, yet, as for what relates to Men of Letters, the Knowledge
of an Author may, perhaps, sometimes conduce to the better understanding
his Works: And, indeed, this Author’s Works, from the bad Treatment he has
met with from Copyists and Editors, have so long wanted a Comment, that
one would zealously embrace every Method of Information that could
contribute to recover them from the injuries with which they have so long
lain o’erwhelm’d.
’Tis certain that if we have first admir’d the Man in his Writings, his
Case is so circumstanc’d that we must naturally admire the Writings in the
Man: That if we go back to take a View of his Education, and the
Employment in Life which Fortune had cut out for him, we shall retain the
stronger Ideas of his extensive Genius.
His Father, we are told, was a considerable Dealer in Wool; but having no
fewer than ten Children, of whom our _Shakespeare_ was the eldest, the
best education he could afford him was no better than to qualify him for
his own Business and Employment. I cannot affirm with any Certainty how
long his Father liv’d; but I take him to be the same Mr. _John
Shakespeare_ who was living in the Year 1599, and who then, in Honour of
his Son, took out an Extract of his Family Arms from the Herald’s Office;
by which it appears, that he had been Officer and Bailiff of _Stratford_
upon _Avon_ in _Warwickshire_; and that he enjoy’d some hereditary Lands
and Tenements, the Reward of his Great Grandfather’s faithful and approved
Service to King _Henry_ VII.
Be this as it will, our _Shakespeare_, it seems, was bred for some Time at
a Free-School; the very Free-School, I presume, founded at _Stratford_:
where, we are told, he acquired what _Latin_ he was master of: but that
his Father being oblig’d, thro’ Narrowness of Circumstance, to withdraw
him too soon from thence, he was thereby unhappily prevented from making
any Proficiency in the Dead Languages: A Point that will deserve some
little Discussion in the Sequel of this Dissertation.
How long he continued in his Father’s Way of Business, either as an
Assistant to him, or on his own proper Account, no Notices are left to
inform us: nor have I been able to learn precisely at what Period of Life
he quitted his native _Stratford_, and began his Acquaintance with
_London_ and the _Stage_.
In order to settle in the World after a Family-manner, he thought fit, Mr.
_Rowe_ acquaints us, to marry while he was yet very young. It is certain
he did so: for by the Monument in _Stratford_ Church, erected to the
Memory of his Daughter _Susanna_, the Wife of _John Hall_, Gentleman, it
appears that she died on the 2d Day of _July_, in the Year 1649, aged 66.
So that she was born in 1583, when her Father could not be full 19 Years
old; who was himself born in the Year 1564. Nor was she his eldest Child,
for he had another Daughter, _Judith_, who was born before her, and who
was married to one Mr. _Thomas Quiney_. So that _Shakespeare_ must have
entred into Wedlock by that Time he was turn’d of seventeen Years.
Whether the Force of Inclination merely, or some concurring Circumstances
of Convenience in the Match, prompted him to marry so early, is not easy
to be determin’d at this Distance: but ’tis probable, a View of Interest
might partly sway his Conduct on this Point: for he married the Daughter
of one _Hathaway_, a substantial Yeoman in his Neighbourhood, and she had
the Start of him in Age no less than eight Years. She surviv’d him,
notwithstanding, seven Seasons, and dy’d that very Year in which the
_Players_ publish’d the first Edition of his Works in _Folio_, Anno Dom.
1623, at the Age of 67 Years, as we likewise learn from her Monument in
_Stratford_ Church.
How long he continued in this kind of Settlement, upon his own Native
Spot, is not more easily to be determin’d. But if the Tradition be true of
that Extravagance which forc’d him both to quit his Country and Way of
Living; to wit, his being engag’d, with a Knot of young Deer-stealers, to
rob the Park of Sir _Thomas Lucy_ of _Cherlecot_ near _Stratford_: the
Enterprize favours so much of Youth and Levity, we may reasonably suppose
it was before he could write full Man. Besides, considering he has left us
six and thirty Plays, at least, avow’d to be genuine; and considering too,
that he had retir’d from the Stage, to spend the latter Part of his Days
at his own Native _Stratford_; the Interval of Time, necessarily required
for the finishing so many Dramatic Pieces, obliges us to suppose he threw
himself very early upon the Playhouse. And as he could, probably, contract
no Acquaintance with the Drama, while he was driving on the Affair of Wool
at home; some Time must be lost, even after he had commenc’d Player,
before he could attain Knowledge enough in the Science to qualify himself
for turning Author.
It has been observ’d by Mr. _Rowe_, that amongst other Extravagancies
which our Author has given to his Sir _John Falstaffe_, in the _Merry
Wives_ of _Windsor_, he has made him a Deer-stealer; and 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. There are two Coats, I observe, in _Dugdale_, where three Silver
Fishes are borne in the Name of _Lucy_; and another Coat, to the Monument
of _Thomas Lucy_, Son of Sir _William Lucy_, in which are quarter’d in
four several Divisions twelve little Fishes, three in each Division,
probably _Luces_. This very Coat, indeed, seems alluded to in _Shallow’s_
giving the _dozen_ White _Luces_, and in _Slender_ saying _he may
quarter_. When I consider the exceeding Candour and Good-nature of our
Author (which inclin’d all the gentler Part of the World to love him; as
the Power of his Wit obliged the Men of the most delicate Knowledge and
polite Learning to admire him); and that he should throw this humorous
Piece of Satire at his Prosecutor, at least twenty Years after the
Provocation given; I am confidently persuaded it must be owing to an
unforgiving Rancour on the Prosecutor’s Side: and if This was the Case, it
were Pity but the Disgrace of such an Inveteracy should remain as a
lasting Reproach, and _Shallow_ stand as a Mark of Ridicule to stigmatize
his Malice.
It is said, our Author spent some Years before his Death, in Ease,
Retirement, and the Conversation of his Friends, at his Native
_Stratford_. I could never pick up any certain Intelligence, when he
relinquish’d the Stage. I know, it has been mistakenly thought by some,
that _Spenser_’s _Thalia_, in his _Tears of the Muses_, where she laments
the Loss of her _Willy_ in the Comic Scene, has been apply’d to our
Author’s quitting the Stage. But _Spenser_ himself, ’tis well known,
quitted the Stage of Life in the Year 1598; and, five Years after this, we
find _Shakespeare_’s Name among the Actors in _Ben Jonson_’s _Sejanus_,
which first made its Appearance in the Year 1603. Nor, surely, could he
then have any Thoughts of retiring, since, that very Year, a Licence under
the Privy-Seal was granted by K. _James_ I. to him and _Fletcher_,
_Burbage_, _Phillippes_, _Hemings_, _Condel_, &c. authorizing them to
exercise the Art of playing Comedies, Tragedies, &c. as well at their
usual House call’d the _Globe_ on the other Side of the Water, as in any
other Parts of the Kingdom, during his Majesty’s Pleasure (A Copy of which
Licence is preserv’d in _Rymer’s Fœdera_). Again, ’tis certain that
_Shakespeare_ did not exhibit his _Macbeth_ till after the Union was
brought about, and till after King _James_ I. had begun to touch for the
_Evil_: for ’tis plain, he has inserted Compliments, on both those
Accounts, upon his Royal Master in that Tragedy. Nor, indeed, could the
Number of the Dramatic Pieces he produced admit of his retiring near so
early as that Period. So that what _Spenser_ there says, if it relate at
all to _Shakespeare_, must hint at some occasional Recess he made for a
time upon a Disgust taken: or the _Willy_, there mention’d, must relate to
some other favourite Poet. I believe, we may safely determine that he had
not quitted in the Year 1610. For in his _Tempest_, our Author makes
mention of the _Bermuda_ Islands, which were unknown to the _English_,
till, in 1609, Sir _John Summers_ made a Voyage to _North-America_, and
discover’d them: and afterwards invited some of his Countrymen to settle a
Plantation there. That he became the private Gentleman, at least three
Years before his Decease, is pretty obvious from another Circumstance: I
mean, from that remarkable and well-known Story, which Mr. _Rowe_ has
given us of our Author’s Intimacy with Mr. _John Combe_, an old Gentleman
noted thereabouts for his Wealth and Usury: and upon whom _Shakespeare_
made the following facetious Epitaph:
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! oh! quoth the Devil, ’tis my _John-a-Combe_.
This sarcastical Piece of Wit was, at the Gentleman’s own Request, thrown
out extemporally in his Company. And this Mr. _John Combe_ I take to be
the same, who, by _Dugdale_ in his Antiquities of _Warwickshire_, is said
to have dy’d in the Year 1614, and for whom, at the upper end of the Quire
of the Guild of the Holy Cross at _Stratford_, a fair Monument is erected,
having a Statue thereon cut in Alabaster, and in a Gown, with this
Epitaph. “Here lyeth interr’d the Body of _John Combe_, Esq; who dy’d the
10th of _July_, 1614, who bequeathed several Annual Charities to the
Parish of _Stratford_, and 100_l._ to be lent to fifteen poor Tradesmen
from three years to three years, changing the Parties every third Year, at
the Rate of fifty Shillings _per Annum_, the Increase to be distributed to
the Almes-poor there.”—The Donation has all the Air of a rich and
sagacious Usurer.
_Shakespeare_ himself did not survive Mr. _Combe_ long, for he dy’d in the
Year 1616, the 53d of his Age. He lies buried on the North Side of the
Chancel in the great Church at _Stratford_; where a Monument, decent
enough for the Time, is erected to him, and plac’d against the Wall. He is
represented under an Arch in a sitting posture, a Cushion spread before
him, with a Pen in his Right Hand, and his Left rested on a Scrowl of
Paper. The _Latin_ Distich, which is placed under the Cushion, has been
given us by Mr. _Pope_, or his Graver, in this Manner.
INGENIO _Pylium_, Genio _Socratem_, Arte _Maronem_,
Terra tegit, Populus mœret, Olympus habet.
I confess, I don’t conceive the Difference betwixt _Ingenio_ and _Genio_
in the first Verse. They seem to me intirely synonymous Terms; nor was the
_Pylian_ sage _Nestor_ celebrated for his Ingenuity, but for an Experience
and Judgment owing to his long Age. _Dugdale_, in his Antiquities of
_Warwickshire_, has copied this Distich with a Distinction which Mr.
_Rowe_ has follow’d, and which certainly restores us the true Meaning of
this Epitaph.
JUDICIO Pylium, _Genio_ Socratem, &c.
In 1614, the greater Part of the Town of _Stratford_ was consumed by Fire;
but our _Shakespeare_’s House, among some others, escap’d the Flames. This
House was first built by Sir _Hugh Clopton_, a younger Brother of an
ancient Family in that Neighbourhood, who took their Name from the Manor
of _Clopton_. Sir _Hugh_ was Sheriff of _London_ in the Reign of _Richard_
III. and Lord Mayor in the Reign of King _Henry_ VII. To this Gentleman
the Town of _Stratford_ is indebted for the fine Stonebridge, consisting
of fourteen Arches, which at an extraordinary Expence he built over the
_Avon_, together with a Cause-way running at the West-end thereof; as also
for rebuilding the Chapel adjoining to his House, and the Cross-Isle in
the Church there. It is remarkable of him, that, tho’ he liv’d and dy’d a
Bachelor, among the other extensive Charities which he left both to the
City of _London_ and Town of _Stratford_, he bequeath’d considerable
Legacies for the Marriage of poor Maidens of good Name and Fame both in
_London_ and at _Stratford_. Notwithstanding which large Donations in his
Life, and Bequests at his Death, as he had purchased the Manor of
_Clopton_, and all the Estate of the Family, so he left the same again to
his elder Brother’s Son with a very great Addition (a Proof how well
Beneficence and Œconomy may walk hand in hand in wise Families): Good Part
of which Estate is yet in the Possession of _Edward Clopton_, Esq. and Sir
_Hugh Clopton_, Knt. lineally descended from the elder Brother of the
first Sir _Hugh_: Who particularly bequeathed to his Nephew, by his Will,
his House, by the Name of his _Great-House_ in _Stratford_.
The Estate had now been sold out of the _Clopton_ Family for above a
Century, at the time when _Shakespeare_ became the Purchaser: who, having
repair’d and modell’d it to his own Mind, chang’d the Name to _New-place_;
which the Mansion-house, since erected upon the same Spot, at this day
retains. The House and Lands, which attended it, continued in
_Shakespeare_’s Descendants to the Time of the _Restoration_: when they
were repurchased by the _Clopton_ Family, and the Mansion now belongs to
Sir _Hugh Clopton_, Knt. To the Favour of this worthy Gentleman I owe the
Knowledge of one Particular, in Honour of our Poet’s once Dwelling-house,
of which, I presume, Mr. ROWE never was appriz’d. When the Civil War raged
in _England_, and K. _Charles_ the _First_’s Queen was driven by the
Necessity of Affairs to make a Recess in _Warwickshire_, she kept her
Court for three Weeks in _New-place_. We may reasonably suppose it then
the best private House in the Town; and her Majesty preferr’d it to the
_College_, which was in the Possession of the _Combe_ Family, who did not
so strongly favour the King’s Party.
How much our Author employ’d himself in Poetry, after his Retirement from
the Stage, does not so evidently appear: Very few posthumous Sketches of
his Pen have been recover’d to ascertain that Point. We have been told,
indeed, in Print, but not till very lately, That two large Chests full of
this Great Man’s loose Papers and Manuscripts, in the Hands of an ignorant
Baker of _Warwick_ (who married one of the Descendants from our
_Shakespeare_), were carelessly scatter’d and thrown about, as
Garret-Lumber and Litter, to the particular Knowledge of the late Sir
_William Bishop_, till they were all consumed in the general Fire and
Destruction of that Town. I cannot help being a little apt to distrust the
Authority of this Tradition; because as his Wife survived him seven Years,
and as his Favourite Daughter _Susanna_ surviv’d her twenty-six Years,
’tis very improbable they should suffer such a Treasure to be remov’d, and
translated into a remoter Branch of the Family, without a Scrutiny first
made into the Value of it. This, I say, inclines me to distrust the
Authority of the Relation: but, notwithstanding such an apparent
Improbability, if we really lost such a Treasure, by whatever Fatality or
Caprice of Fortune they came into such ignorant and neglectful Hands, I
agree with the _Relater_, the Misfortune is wholly irreparable.
To these Particulars, which regard his Person and private Life, some few
more are to be glean’d from Mr. ROWE’S Account of his _Life_ and
_Writings_: Let us now take a short View of him in his publick Capacity,
as a _Writer_: and, from thence, the Transition will be easy to the
_State_ in which his _Writings_ have been handed down to us.
No Age, perhaps, can produce an Author more various from himself than
_Shakespeare_ has been universally acknowledged to be. The Diversity in
Stile, and other Parts of Composition, so obvious in him, is as variously
to be accounted for. His Education, we find, was at best but begun: and he
started early into a Science from the Force of Genius, unequally assisted
by acquir’d Improvements. His Fire, Spirit, and Exuberance of Imagination
gave an impetuosity to his Pen: His Ideas flow’d from him in a Stream
rapid, but not turbulent; copious, but not ever over-bearing its Shores.
The Ease and Sweetness of his Temper might not a little contribute to his
Facility in Writing: as his Employment, as a _Player_, gave him an
Advantage and Habit of fancying himself the very Character he meant to
delineate. He used the Helps of his Function in forming himself to create
and express that _Sublime_ which other Actors can only copy, and throw
out, in Action and graceful Attitude. But _Nullum sine Venia placuit
Ingenium_, says _Seneca_. The Genius that gives us the greatest Pleasure,
sometimes stands in Need of our Indulgence. Whenever this happens with
regard to _Shakespeare_ I would willingly impute it to a Vice of _his
Times_. We see Complaisance enough, in our Days, paid to a _bad Taste_. So
that his _Clinches_, _false Wit_, and descending beneath himself, may have
proceeded from a Deference paid to the then _reigning Barbarism_.
I have not thought it out of my Province, whenever Occasion offer’d, to
take notice of some of our Poet’s grand Touches of Nature: Some that do
not appear superficially such; but in which he seems the most deeply
instructed; and to which, no doubt, he has so much ow’d that happy
Preservation of his _Characters_, for which he is justly celebrated. Great
Genius’s, like his, naturally unambitious, are satisfy’d to conceal their
Art in these Points. ’Tis the Foible of your worser Poets to make a Parade
and Ostentation of that little Science they have; and to throw it out in
the most ambitious Colours. And whenever a Writer of this Class shall
attempt to copy these artful Concealments of our Author, and shall either
think them easy, or practised by a Writer for his Ease, he will soon be
convinced of his Mistake by the Difficulty of reaching the Imitation of
them.
Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret,
Ausus idem:——
Indeed, to point out, and exclaim upon, all the Beauties of _Shakespeare_,
as they come singly in Review, would be as insipid, as endless; as
tedious, as unnecessary: But the Explanation of those Beauties that are
less obvious to common Readers, and whose Illustration depends on the
Rules of just Criticism, and an exact knowledge of human Life, should
deservedly have a Share in a general Critic upon the Author. But, to pass
over at once to another Subject:——
It has been allow’d on all hands, how far our Author was indebted to
_Nature_; it is not so well agreed, how much he ow’d to _Languages_ and
acquired _Learning_. The Decisions on this Subject were certainly set on
Foot by the Hint from _Ben Jonson_, that he had small _Latin_ and less
_Greek_: And from this Tradition, as it were, Mr. _Rowe_ has thought fit
peremptorily to declare, that, “It is without Controversy, he had no
Knowledge of the Writings of the ancient Poets, for that in his Works we
find no Traces of any thing which looks like an imitation of the Ancients.
For the Delicacy of his Taste (_continues He_) 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 them with so much Pleasure,
that some of their fine Images would naturally have insinuated themselves
into, and been mix’d with his own Writings: and so his not copying at
least something from them, may be an Argument of his never having read
them.” I shall leave it to the Determination of my Learned Readers, from
the numerous Passages, which I have occasionally quoted in my Notes, in
which our Poet seems closely to have imitated the Classics, whether Mr.
_Rowe_’s Assertion be so absolutely to be depended on. The Result of the
Controversy must certainly, either way, terminate to our Author’s Honour:
how happily he could imitate them, if that Point be allowed; or how
gloriously he could think like them, without owing any thing to Imitation.
Tho’ I should be very unwilling to allow _Shakespeare_ so poor a Scholar
as Many have labour’d to represent him, yet I shall be very cautious of
declaring too positively on the other side of the Question: that is, with
regard to my Opinion of his Knowledge in the dead languages. And therefore
the Passages, that I occasionally quote from the _Classics_, shall not be
urged as Proofs that he knowingly imitated those Originals; but brought to
shew how happily he has express’d himself upon the same Topicks. A very
learned Critick of our own Nation has declar’d, that a Sameness of Thought
and Sameness of Expression too, in Two Writers of a different Age, can
hardly happen, without a violent Suspicion of the latter copying from his
Predecessor. I shall not therefore run any great Risque of a Censure, tho’
I should venture to hint, that the Resemblances in Thought and Expression
of our Author and an Ancient (which we should allow to be Imitation in the
One whose learning was not question’d) may sometimes take its Rise from
Strength of Memory, and those Impressions which he owed to the School. And
if we may allow a Possibility of This, considering that, when he quitted
the School he gave into his Father’s Profession and way of Living, and
had, ’tis likely, but a slender Library of Classical Learning; and
considering what a Number of Translations, Romances, and Legends, started
about his Time, and a little before (most of which, ’tis very evident, he
read); I think, it may easily be reconciled why he rather schemed his
_Plots_ and _Characters_ from these more latter Informations, than went
back to those Fountains, for which he might entertain a sincere
Veneration, but to which he could not have so ready a Recourse.
In touching on another Part of his Learning, as it related to the
Knowledge of _History_ and _Books_, I shall advance something that, at
first sight, will very much wear the Appearance of a Paradox. For I shall
find it no hard Matter to prove, that, from the grossest Blunders in
History, we are not to infer his real Ignorance of it: Nor from a greater
Use of _Latin_ Words, than ever any other _English_ Author used, must we
infer his intimate Acquaintance with that Language.
A Reader of Taste may easily observe, that tho’ _Shakespeare_, almost in
every Scene of his historical Plays, commits the grossest Offences against
Chronology, History, and Ancient Politicks; yet This was not thro’
Ignorance, as is generally supposed, but thro’ the too powerful Blaze of
his Imagination; which, when once raised, made all acquired Knowledge
vanish and disappear before it. But this Licence in him, as I have said,
must not be imputed to Ignorance: since as often we may find him, when
Occasion serves, reasoning up to the Truth of History; and throwing out
Sentiments as justly adapted to the Circumstances of his Subject, as to
the Dignity of his Characters, or Dictates of Nature in general.
Then to come to his Knowledge of the _Latin_ Tongue, ’tis certain there is
a surprising Effusion of _Latin_ Words made _English_, far more than in
any one _English_ Author I have seen; but we must be cautious to imagine
this was of his own doing. For the _English_ Tongue, in this Age, began
extremely to suffer by an inundation of _Latin_: And this, to be sure, was
occasion’d by the Pedantry of those two Monarchs, _Elizabeth_ and _James_,
Both great _Latinists_. For it is not to be wonder’d at, if both the Court
and Schools, equal Flatterers of Power, should adapt themselves to the
Royal Taste.
But now I am touching on the Question (which has been so frequently
agitated, yet so entirely undecided) of his Learning and Acquaintance with
the Languages; an additional Word or two naturally falls in here upon the
Genius of our Author, as compared with that of _Jonson_ his Contemporary.
They are confessedly the greatest Writers our Nation could ever boast of
in the _Drama_. The first, we say, owed all to his prodigious natural
Genius; and the other a great deal to his Art and Learning. This, if
attended to, will explain a very remarkable Appearance in their Writings.
Besides those wonderful Masterpieces of Art and Genius, which each has
given us, They are the Authors of other Works very unworthy of them: But
with this Difference, that in _Jonson_’s bad Pieces we don’t discover one
single Trace of the Author of the _Fox_ and _Alchemist_: but in the wild
extravagant Notes of _Shakespeare_, you every now and then encounter
Strains that recognize the divine Composer. This Difference may be thus
accounted for. _Jonson_, as we said before, owing all his Excellence to
his Art, by which he sometimes strain’d himself to an uncommon Pitch, when
at other times he unbent and play’d with his Subject, having nothing then
to support him, it is no wonder he wrote so far beneath himself. But
_Shakespeare_, indebted more largely to Nature than the Other to acquired
Talents, in his most negligent Hours could never so totally divest himself
of his Genius, but that it would frequently break out with astonishing
Force and Splendor.
As I have never propos’d to dilate farther on the Character of my Author
than was necessary to explain the Nature and Use of this Edition, I shall
proceed to consider him as a Genius in Possession of an everlasting Name.
And how great that Merit must be, which could gain it against all the
Disadvantages of the horrid Condition in which he had hitherto appear’d!
Had _Homer_, or any other admir’d Author, first started into Publick so
maim’d and deform’d, we cannot determine whether they had not sunk for
ever under the Ignominy of such an ill Appearance. The mangled Condition
of _Shakespeare_ has been acknowledg’d by Mr. _Rowe_, who published him
indeed, but neither corrected his Text, nor collated the old Copies. This
Gentleman had Abilities, and a sufficient Knowledge of his Author, had but
his Industry been equal to his Talents. The same mangled Condition has
been acknowledg’d too by Mr. _Pope_, who publish’d him likewise, pretended
to have collated the old Copies, and yet seldom has corrected the Text but
to its Injury. I congratulate with the _Manes_ of our Poet, that this
Gentleman has been sparing in _indulging his private Sense_, as he phrases
it; for He who tampers with an Author whom he does not understand, must do
it at the Expence of his Subject. I have made it evident throughout my
Remarks, that he has frequently inflicted a Wound where he intended a
Cure. He has acted with regard to our Author, as an Editor, whom LIPSIUS
mentions, did with regard to MARTIAL; _Inventus est nescio quis_ Popa,
_qui non_ vitia _ejus_, _sed_ ipsum _excidit_. He has attack’d him like an
unhandy _Slaughterman_; and not lopp’d off the _Errors_, but the _Poet_.
When this is found to be Fact, how absurd must appear the Praises of such
an Editor! 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. They have Both shewn themselves in an
equal _Impuissance_ of suspecting, or amending, the corrupted Passages:
and tho’ it be neither Prudence to censure, or commend, what one does not
understand; yet if a man must do one when he plays the Critick, the latter
is the more ridiculous Office: And by that _Shakespeare_ suffers most. For
the natural Veneration which we have for him, makes us apt to swallow
whatever is given us as _his_, and set off with Encomiums; and hence we
quit all suspicions of Depravity: On the contrary, the Censure of so
divine an Author sets us upon his Defence; and this produces an exact
Scrutiny and Examination, which ends in finding out and discriminating the
true from the spurious.
It is not with any secret Pleasure that I so frequently animadvert on Mr.
_Pope_ as a Critick; but there are Provocations which a Man can never
quite forget. His Libels have been thrown out with so much Inveteracy,
that, not to dispute whether they _should_ come from a _Christian_, they
leave it a Question whether they _could_ come from a _Man_. I should be
loth to doubt, as _Quintus Serenus_ did in a like Case,
Sive homo, seu similis turpissima bestia nobis,
Vulnera dente dedit.
The Indignation, perhaps, for being represented a _Block-head_, may be as
strong in us as it is in the Ladies for a Reflexion on their _Beauties_.
It is certain, I am indebted to Him for some _flagrant Civilities_; and I
shall willingly devote a Part of my Life to the honest Endeavour of
quitting Scores: with this Exception however, that I will not return those
Civilities in his _peculiar_ Strain, but confine myself, at least, to the
Limits of _common Decency_. I shall ever think it better to want _Wit_,
than to want _Humanity_: and impartial Posterity may, perhaps, be of my
Opinion.
But, to return to my Subject; which now calls upon me to inquire into
those Causes, to which the Depravations of my Author originally may be
assign’d. We are to consider him as a Writer, of whom no authentic
Manuscript was left extant; as a Writer, whose Pieces were dispersedly
perform’d on the several _Stages_ then in Being. And it was the Custom of
those Days for the Poets to take a Price of the _Players_ for the Pieces
They from time to time furnish’d; and thereupon it was suppos’d, they had
no farther Right to print them without the Consent of the _Players_. As it
was the Interest of the _Companies_ to keep their Plays unpublish’d, when
any one succeeded, there was a Contest betwixt the Curiosity of the Town,
who demanded to see it in Print, and the Policy of the _Stagers_, who
wish’d to secrete it within their own Walls. Hence, many Pieces were taken
down in Short-hand, and imperfectly copied by Ear, from a
_Representation_: Others were printed from piece-meal Parts
surreptitiously obtain’d from the Theatres, uncorrect, and without the
Poet’s Knowledge. To some of these Causes we owe the Train of Blemishes
that deform those Pieces which stole singly into the World in our Author’s
Lifetime.
There are still other Reasons which may be suppos’d to have affected the
whole Set. When the _Players_ took upon them to publish his Works intire,
every Theatre was ransack’d to supply the Copy; and _Parts_ collected,
which had gone thro’ as many Changes as Performers, either from
Mutilations or Additions made to them. Hence we derive many Chasms and
Incoherences in the Sense and Matter. Scenes were frequently transposed,
and shuffled out of their true Place, to humour the Caprice, or suppos’d
Convenience, of some particular Actor. Hence much Confusion and
Impropriety has attended and embarrass’d the Business and Fable. To these
obvious Causes of Corruption it must be added, That our Author has lain
under the Disadvantage of having his Errors propagated and multiplied by
Time: because, for near a Century, his Works were publish’d from the
faulty Copies, without the Assistance of any intelligent Editor: which has
been the Case likewise of many a _Classic_ Writer.
The Nature of any Distemper once found has generally been the immediate
Step to a Cure. _Shakespeare_’s Case has in a great Measure resembled That
of a corrupt _Classic_; and, consequently, the Method of Cure was likewise
to bear a Resemblance. By what Means, and with what Success, this Cure has
been effected on ancient Writers, is too well known, and needs no formal
Illustration. The Reputation, consequent on Tasks of that Nature, invited
me to attempt the Method here; with this view, the Hopes of restoring to
the Publick their greatest Poet in his original Purity: after having so
long lain in a Condition that was a Disgrace to common Sense. To this end
I have ventur’d on a Labour, that is the first Assay of the kind on any
modern Author whatsoever.
For the late Edition of _Milton_ by the Learned Dr. _Bentley_ is, in the
main, a Performance of another Species. It is plain, it was the Intention
of that Great Man rather to correct and pare off the Excrescencies of the
_Paradise Lost_, in the Manner that _Tucca_ and _Varius_ were employ’d to
criticize the _Æneis_ of _Virgil_, than to restore corrupted Passages.
Hence, therefore, may be seen either the Iniquity or Ignorance of his
Censurers, who, from some Expressions, would make us believe, the _Doctor_
every where gives us his Corrections as the original Text of the Author;
whereas the chief Turn of his Criticism is plainly to shew the World, that
if _Milton_ did not write as He would have him, he ought to have wrote so.
I thought proper to premise this Observation to the Readers, as it will
shew that the Critic on _Shakespeare_ is of a quite different Kind. His
genuine Text is for the most part religiously adhered to, and the numerous
Faults and Blemishes, purely his own, are left as they were found. Nothing
is alter’d, but what by the clearest Reasoning can be proved a Corruption
of the true Text; and the Alteration, a real Restoration of the genuine
Reading. Nay, so strictly have I strove to give the true Reading, tho’
sometimes not to the Advantage of my Author, that I have been ridiculously
ridicul’d for it by Those, who either were iniquitously for turning every
thing to my Disadvantage, or else were totally ignorant of the true Duty
of an Editor.
The Science of Criticism, as far as it effects an Editor, seems to be
reduced to these three Classes; the Emendation of corrupt Passages; the
Explanation of obscure and difficult ones; and an Inquiry into the
Beauties and Defects of Composition. This Work is principally confin’d to
the two former Parts: tho’ there are some Specimens interspers’d of the
latter Kind, as several of the Emendations were best supported, and
several of the Difficulties best explain’d, by taking notice of the
Beauties and Defects of the Composition peculiar to this Immortal Poet.
But this was but occasional, and for the sake only of perfecting the two
other Parts, which were the proper Objects of the Editor’s Labour. The
third lies open for every willing Undertaker: and I shall be pleas’d to
see it the Employment of a masterly Pen.
It must necessarily happen, as I have formerly observ’d, that where the
Assistance of Manuscripts is wanting to set an Author’s Meaning right, and
rescue him from those Errors which have been transmitted down thro’ a
series of incorrect Editions, and a long Intervention of Time, many
Passages must be desperate, and past a Cure; and their true Sense
irretrievable either to Care or the Sagacity of Conjecture. But is there
any Reason therefore to say, That because All cannot be retriev’d, All
ought to be left desperate? We should shew very little Honesty, or Wisdom,
to play the Tyrants with an Author’s Text; to raze, alter, innovate, and
overturn, at all Adventures, and to the utter Detriment of his Sense and
Meaning: But to be so very reserved and cautious, as to interpose no
Relief or Conjecture, where it manifestly labours and cries out for
Assistance, seems, on the other hand, an indolent Absurdity.
As there are very few pages in _Shakespeare_, upon which some Suspicions
of Depravity do not reasonably arise; I have thought it my Duty, in the
first place, by a diligent and laborious Collation to take in the
Assistances of all the older Copies.
In his _Historical Plays_, whenever our _English_ Chronicles, and in his
Tragedies when _Greek_ or _Roman_ Story, could give any Light; no Pains
have been omitted to set Passages right by comparing my Author with his
Originals; for as I have frequently observed, he was a close and accurate
Copier where-ever his _Fable_ was founded on _History_.
Where-ever the Author’s Sense is clear and discoverable (tho’, perchance,
low and trivial), I have not by any Innovation tamper’d with his Text, out
of an Ostentation of endeavouring to make him speak better than the old
Copies have done.
Where, thro’ all the former Editions, a Passage has labour’d under flat
Nonsense and invincible Darkness, if, by the Addition or Alteration of a
Letter or two, or a Transposition in the Pointing, I have restored to Him
both Sense and Sentiment; such Corrections, I am persuaded, will need no
Indulgence.
And whenever I have taken a greater Latitude and Liberty in amending, I
have constantly endeavour’d to support my Corrections and Conjectures by
parallel Passages and Authorities from himself, the surest Means of
expounding any Author whatsoever. _Cette voïe d’interpreter un Autheur par
lui-même est plus sure que tous les Commentaires_, says a very learned
_French_ Critick.
As to my _Notes_ (from which the common and learned Readers of our Author,
I hope, will derive some Satisfaction), I have endeavour’d to give them a
Variety in some Proportion to their Number. Where-ever I have ventur’d at
an Emendation, a _Note_ is constantly subjoin’d to justify and assert the
Reason of it. Where I only offer a Conjecture, and do not disturb the
Text, I fairly set forth my Grounds for such Conjecture, and submit it to
Judgment. Some Remarks are spent in explaining Passages, where the Wit or
Satire depends on an obscure Point of History: Others, where Allusions are
to Divinity, Philosophy, or other Branches of Science. Some are added to
shew where there is a Suspicion of our Author having borrow’d from the
Ancients: Others, to shew where he is rallying his Contemporaries; or
where He himself is rallied by them. And some are necessarily thrown in,
to explain an obscure and obsolete _Term_, _Phrase_, or _Idea_. I once
intended to have added a complete and copious _Glossary_; but as I have
been importun’d, and am prepar’d, to give a correct Edition of our
Author’s POEMS (in which many Terms occur that are not to be met with in
his _Plays_), I thought a _Glossary_ to all _Shakespeare_’s Works more
proper to attend that Volume.
In reforming an infinite Number of Passages in the _Pointing_, where the
Sense was before quite lost, I have frequently subjoin’d Notes to shew the
_deprav’d_, and to prove the _reform’d_, Pointing: a Part of Labour in
this Work which I could very willingly have spar’d myself. May it not be
objected, why then have you burden’d us with these Notes? The Answer is
obvious, and, if I mistake not, very material. Without such Notes, these
Passages in subsequent Editions would be liable, thro’ the Ignorance of
Printers and Correctors, to fall into the old Confusion: Whereas, a Note
on every one hinders all possible Return to Depravity, and for ever
secures them in a State of Purity and Integrity not to be lost or
forfeited.
Again, as some Notes have been necessary to point out the Detection of the
corrupted Text, and establish the Restoration of the genuine Readings;
some others have been as necessary for the Explanation of Passages obscure
and difficult. To understand the Necessity and Use of this Part of my
Task, some Particulars of my Author’s Character are previously to be
explain’d. There are _Obscurities_ in him, which are common to him with
all Poets of the same Species; there are Others, the Issue of the Times he
liv’d in; and there are others, again, peculiar to himself. The Nature of
Comic Poetry being entirely satirical, it busies itself more in exposing
what we call Caprice and Humour, than Vices cognizable to the Laws. The
_English_, from the Happiness of a free Constitution, and a Turn of Mind
peculiarly speculative and inquisitive, are observ’d to produce more
_Humourists_ and a greater Variety of original _Characters_, than any
other People whatsoever: And These owing their immediate Birth to the
peculiar Genius of each Age, an infinite Number of Things alluded to,
glanced at, and expos’d, must needs become obscure, as the _Characters_
themselves are antiquated and disused. An Editor therefore should be well
vers’d in the History and Manners of his Author’s Age, if he aims at doing
him a Service in this Respect.
Besides, _Wit_ lying mostly in the Assemblage of _Ideas_, and in the
putting Those together with Quickness and Variety, wherein can be found
any Resemblance, or Congruity, to make up pleasant Pictures, and agreeable
Visions in the Fancy; the Writer, who aims at Wit, must of course range
far and wide for Materials. Now, the Age in which _Shakespeare_ liv’d,
having, above all others, a wonderful Affection to appear Learned, They
declined vulgar Images, such as are immediately fetch’d from Nature, and
rang’d thro’ the Circle of the Sciences to fetch their Ideas from thence.
But as the Resemblances of such Ideas to the Subject must necessarily lie
very much out of the common Way, and every Piece of Wit appear a Riddle to
the Vulgar; This, that should have taught them the forced, quaint,
unnatural Tract they were in (and induce them to follow a more natural
One), was the very Thing that kept them attach’d to it. The ostentatious
Affectation of abstruse Learning, peculiar to that Time, the Love that Men
naturally have to every Thing that looks like Mystery, fixed them down to
this Habit of Obscurity. Thus became the Poetry of DONNE (tho’ the
wittiest Man of that Age) nothing but a continued Heap of Riddles. And our
_Shakespeare_, with all his easy Nature about him, for want of the
Knowledge of the true Rules of Art, falls frequently into this vicious
Manner.
The third Species of _Obscurities_ which deform our Author, as the Effects
of his own Genius and Character, are Those that proceed from his peculiar
Manner of _Thinking_, and as peculiar a Manner of _cloathing_ those
_Thoughts_. With regard to his _Thinking_, it is certain that he had a
general Knowledge of all the Sciences: But his Acquaintance was rather
That of a Traveller, than a Native. Nothing in Philosophy was unknown to
him; but every Thing in it had the Grace and Force of Novelty. And as
Novelty is one main Source of Admiration, we are not to wonder that He has
perpetual Allusions to the most recondite Parts of the Sciences: and This
was done not so much out of Affectation, as the Effect of Admiration begot
by Novelty. Then, as to his _Style_ and _Diction_, we may much more justly
apply to SHAKESPEARE what a celebrated Writer has said of MILTON; _Our
Language sunk under him, and was unequal to that Greatness of Soul which
furnish’d him with such glorious Conceptions._ He therefore frequently
uses old Words, to give his Diction an Air of Solemnity; as he coins
others, to express the Novelty and Variety of his Ideas.
Upon every distinct Species of these _Obscurities_ I have thought it my
Province to employ a Note, for the Service of my Author, and the
Entertainment of my Readers. A few transient Remarks too I have not
scrupled to intermix, upon the Poet’s _Negligences_ and _Omissions_ in
point of Art; but I have done it always in such a Manner as will testify
my Deference and Veneration for the immortal Author. Some Censurers of
_Shakespeare_, and particularly Mr. _Rymer_, have taught me to distinguish
betwixt the _Railer_ and _Critick_. The Outrage of his Quotations is so
remarkably violent, so push’d beyond all bounds of Decency and Sober
Reasoning, that it quite carries over the Mark at which it was levell’d.
Extravagant Abuse throws off the Edge of the intended Disparagement, and
turns the Madman’s Weapon into his own Bosom. In short, as to _Rymer_,
This is my Opinion of him from his _Criticisms_ on the _Tragedies_ of the
Last Age. He writes with great Vivacity, and appears to have been a
Scholar: but, as for his Knowledge of the Art of Poetry, I can’t perceive
it was any deeper than his Acquaintance with _Bossu_ and _Dacier_, from
whom he has transcrib’d many of his best Reflexions. The late Mr. _Gildon_
was one attached to _Rymer_ by a similar way of Thinking and Studies. They
were both of that Species of Criticks, who are desirous of displaying
their Powers rather in finding Faults, than in consulting the Improvement
of the World: the _hypercritical_ Part of the Science of _Criticism_.
I had not mentioned the modest Liberty I have here and there taken of
animadverting on my Author, but that I was willing to obviate in time the
splenetick Exaggerations of my Adversaries on this Head. From past
Experiments I have reason to be conscious in what Light this Attempt may
be placed: and that what I call a _modest Liberty_, will, by a little of
their Dexterity, be inverted into downright _Impudence_. From a hundred
mean and dishonest Artifices employ’d to discredit this Edition, and to
cry down its Editor, I have all the Grounds in nature to beware of
Attacks. But tho’ the Malice of Wit, join’d to the Smoothness of
Versification, may furnish some Ridicule; Fact, I hope, will be able to
stand its Ground against Banter and Gaiety.
It has been my Fate, it seems, as I thought it my Duty, to discover some
_Anachronisms_ in our Author; which might have slept in Obscurity but for
_this Restorer_, as Mr. _Pope_ is pleas’d affectionately to stile me: as,
for Instance, where _Aristotle_ is mentioned by _Hector_ in _Troilus_ and
_Cressida_: and _Galen_, _Cato_, and _Alexander_ the Great, in
_Coriolanus_. These, in Mr. _Pope_’s Opinion, are Blunders, which the
Illiteracy of the first Publishers of his Works has father’d upon the
Poet’s Memory: _it not being at all credible, that These could be the
Errors of any Man who had the least Tincture of a School, or the least
Conversation with Such as had._ But I have sufficiently proved, in the
course of my _Notes_, that such _Anachronisms_ were the Effect of Poetic
Licence, rather than of Ignorance in our Poet. And if I may be permitted
to ask a modest Question by the way, Why may not I restore an
_Anachronism_ really made by our Author, as well as Mr. _Pope_ take the
Privilege to fix others upon him, which he never had it in his Head to
make; as I may venture to affirm he had not, in the Instance of Sir
_Francis Drake_, to which I have spoke in the proper Place?
But who shall dare make any Words about this Freedom of Mr. _Pope_’s
towards _Shakespeare_, if it can be prov’d, that, in his Fits of
Criticism, he makes no more Ceremony with good _Homer_ himself? To try,
then, a Criticism of his own advancing; In the 8th Book of the _Odyssey_,
where _Demodocus_ sings the Episode of the Loves of _Mars_ and _Venus_;
and that, upon their being taken in the Net by _Vulcan_,
——The God of Arms
Must pay the Penalty for lawless Charms;
Mr. _Pope_ is so kind gravely to inform us, “That _Homer_ in This, as in
many other Places, seems to allude to the Laws of _Athens_, where Death
was the Punishment of Adultery.” But how is this significant Observation
made out? Why, who can possibly object any Thing to the contrary?—_Does
not _PAUSANIAS_ relate that _DRACO_ the Lawgiver to the _ATHENIANS_
granted Impunity to any Person that took Revenge upon an Adulterer? And
was it not also the Institution of _SOLON_, that if Any One took an
Adulterer in the Fact, he might use him as he pleas’d?_ These Things are
very true: and to see what a good Memory, and sound Judgment in
Conjunction can atchieve! Tho’ _Homer_’s Date is not determin’d down to a
single Year, yet ’tis pretty generally agreed that he liv’d above 300
Years before _Draco_ and _Solon_: And That, it seems, has made him _seem_
to allude to the very Laws which these Two Legislators propounded about
300 Years after. If this Inference be not something like an _Anachronism_
or _Prolepsis_, I’ll look once more into my Lexicons for the true Meaning
of the Words. It appears to me that somebody besides _Mars_ and _Venus_
has been caught in a Net by this Episode: and I could call in other
Instances to confirm what treacherous Tackle this Net-work is, if not
cautiously handled.
How just, notwithstanding, I have been in detecting the _Anachronisms_ of
my Author, and in defending him for the Use of them, our late Editor seems
to think, they should rather have slept in Obscurity: and the having
discovered them is sneer’d at, as a sort of wrong-headed Sagacity.
The numerous Corrections which I have made of the Poet’s Text in my
_Shakespeare Restor’d_, and which the Publick have been so kind to think
well of, are, in the Appendix of Mr. _Pope_’s last Edition, slightingly
call’d _Various Readings, Guesses_, &c. He confesses to have inserted as
many of them as he judg’d of any the least Advantage to the Poet; but
says, that the whole amounted to about 25 Words: and pretends to have
annexed a compleat List of the rest, which were not worth his embracing.
Whoever has read my Book, will at one Glance see, how in both these Points
Veracity is strain’d, so an Injury might but be done. _Malus, etsi obesse
non potest, tamen cogitat._
Another Expedient, to make my Work appear of a trifling Nature, has been
an Attempt to depreciate _Literal Criticism_. To this end, and to pay a
servile Compliment to Mr. _Pope_, an _Anonymous_ Writer has, like a
_Scotch_ Pedlar in Wit, unbraced his Pack on the Subject. But, that his
Virulence might not seem to be levelled singly at me, he has done me the
Honour to join Dr. _Bentley_ in the Libel. I was in hopes, we should have
been both abused with Smartness of Satire at least, tho’ not with Solidity
of Argument; that it might have been worth some Reply in Defence of the
Science attacked. But I may fairly say of this Author, as _Falstaffe_ does
of _Poins_;—_Hang him, Baboon! his Wit is as thick as _TEWKSBURY_ Mustard;
there is no more Conceit in him, than is in a _MALLET. If it be not
Prophanation to set the Opinion of the divine _Longinus_ against such a
Scribler, he tells us expressly, “That to make a Judgment upon _Words_
(and _Writings_) is the most consummate Fruit of much Experience.” ἡ γὰρ
τῶν λόγων κρίσις πολλῆς ἔστι πείρας τελευταῖον ἐπιγέννημα. Whenever Words
are depraved, the Sense of course must be corrupted; and thence the
Reader’s betray’d into a false Meaning.
If the _Latin_ and _Greek_ Languages have receiv’d the greatest Advantages
imaginable from the Labours of the Editors and Criticks of the two last
Ages; by whose Aid and Assistance the Grammarians have been enabled to
write infinitely better in that Art than even the preceding Grammarians,
who wrote when those Tongues flourish’d as living Languages: I should
account it a peculiar Happiness, that, by the faint Assay I have made in
this Work, a Path might be chalk’d out, for abler Hands, by which to
derive the same Advantages to our own Tongue: a Tongue, which, tho’ it
wants none of the fundamental Qualities of an universal Language, yet, as
a _noble Writer_ says, lisps and stammers as in its Cradle; and has
produced little more towards its polishing than Complaints of its
Barbarity.
Having now run thro’ all those Points which I intended should make any
Part of this Dissertation, and having in my _former_ Edition made publick
Acknowledgments of the Assistances lent me, I shall conclude with a brief
Account of the Methods taken in _This_.
It was thought proper, in order to reduce the Bulk and Price of the
Impression, that the Notes, where-ever they would admit of it, might be
abridg’d: for which Reason I have curtail’d a great Quantity of Such, in
which Explanations were too prolix, or Authorities in Support of an
Emendation too numerous: and Many I have entirely expung’d, which were
judg’d rather Verbose and Declamatory (and, so, Notes merely of
Ostentation), than necessary or instructive.
The few literal Errors which had escap’d Notice, for want of Revisals, in
the former Edition, are here reform’d: and the Pointing of innumerable
Passages is regulated, with all the Accuracy I am capable of.
I shall decline making any farther Declaration of the Pains I have taken
upon my Author, because it was my Duty, as his Editor, to publish him with
my best Care and Judgment: and because I am sensible, all such
Declarations are construed to be laying a sort of a Debt on the Publick.
As the former Edition has been received with much Indulgence, I ought to
make my Acknowledgments to the Town for their favourable Opinion of it:
and I shall always be proud to think That Encouragement the best Payment I
can hope to receive from my poor Studies.