It hath been no unusual thing for Writers, when dissatisfied with the
Patronage or Judgment of their own Times, to appeal to Posterity for a
fair Hearing. Some have even thought fit to apply to it in the first
Instance; and to decline Acquaintance with the Public till Envy and
Prejudice had quite subsided. But, of all the Trusters to Futurity,
commend me to the Author of the following Poems, who not only left it to
Time to do him Justice as it would, but to find him out as it could. For,
what between too great Attention to his Profit as a Player, and too little
to his Reputation as a Poet, his Works, left to the Care of Door-keepers
and Prompters, hardly escaped the common Fate of those Writings, how good
soever, which are abandon’d to their own Fortune, and unprotected by Party
or Cabal. At length, indeed, they struggled into Light; but so disguised
and travested, that no classic Author, after having run ten secular Stages
thro’ the blind Cloisters of Monks and Canons, ever came out in half so
maimed and mangled a Condition. But for a full Account of his Disorders, I
refer the Reader to the excellent Discourse which follows, and turn myself
to consider the Remedies that have been applied to them.
_Shakespear_’s Works, when they escaped the Players, did not fall into
much better Hands when they came amongst Printers and Booksellers: who, to
say the Truth, had, at first, but small Encouragement for putting him into
a better Condition. The stubborn Nonsense, with which he was incrusted,
occasioned his lying long neglected amongst the common Lumber of the
Stage. And when that resistless Splendor, which now shoots all around him,
had, by degrees, broke thro’ the Shell of those Impurities, his dazzled
Admirers became as suddenly insensible to the extraneous Scurf that still
stuck upon him, as they had been before to the native Beauties that lay
under it. So that, as then he was thought not to deserve a Cure, he was
now supposed not to need any.
His growing Eminence, however, required that he should be used with
Ceremony: And he soon had his Appointment of an _Editor_ in form. But the
Bookseller, whose dealing was with Wits, having learnt of them, I know not
what silly Maxim, that _none but a Poet should presume to meddle with a
Poet_, engaged the ingenious Mr. _Rowe_ to undertake this Employment. A
Wit indeed he was; but so utterly unacquainted with the whole Business of
Criticism, that he did not even collate or consult the first Editions of
the Work he undertook to publish; but contented himself with giving us a
meagre Account of the Author’s Life, interlarded with some common-place
Scraps from his Writings. The Truth is, _Shakespear_’s Condition was yet
but ill understood. The Nonsense, now, by consent, received for his own,
was held in a kind of Reverence for its Age and Author: and thus it
continued, till another great _Poet_ broke the Charm; by shewing us, that
the higher we went, the less of it was still to be found.
For the Proprietors, not discouraged by their first unsuccessful Effort,
in due time made a second; and, tho’ they still stuck to their Poets, with
infinitely more Success in their Choice of Mr. POPE. Who, by the mere
force of an uncommon Genius, without any particular Study or Profession of
this Art, discharged the great Parts of it so well as to make his Edition
the best Foundation for all further Improvements. He separated the genuine
from the spurious Plays: And, with equal Judgment, tho’ not always with
the same Success, attempted to clear the genuine Plays from the
interpolated Scenes: He then consulted the old Editions; and, by a careful
Collation of them, rectified the faulty, and supplied the imperfect
Reading, in a great number of places: And lastly, in an admirable Preface,
hath drawn a general, but very lively, Sketch of _Shakespear_’s poetic
Character; and, in the corrected Text, marked out those peculiar Strokes
of Genius which were most proper to support and illustrate that Character.
Thus far Mr. POPE. And altho’ much more was to be done before _Shakespear_
could be restored to himself (such as amending the corrupted Text where
the printed Books afford no Assistance; explaining his licentious
Phraseology and obscure Allusions; and illustrating the Beauties of his
Poetry); yet, with great Modesty and Prudence, our illustrious Editor left
this to the Critic by Profession.
But nothing will give the common Reader a better idea of the Value of Mr.
_Pope_’s Edition, than the two Attempts which have been since made, by Mr.
_Theobald_ and Sir _Thomas Hanmer_, in Opposition to it. Who, altho’ they
concerned themselves only in the _first_ of these three Parts of
Criticism, the _restoring the Text_ (without any Conception of the
_second_, or venturing even to touch upon the _third_), yet succeeded so
very ill in it, that they left their Author in ten times a worse Condition
than they found him. But, as it was my ill Fortune to have some accidental
Connexions with these two _Gentlemen_, it will be incumbent on me to be a
little more particular concerning them.
The One was recommended to me as a poor Man; the Other as a poor Critic:
and to each of them, at different times, I communicated a great number of
Observations, which they managed, as they saw fit, to the Relief of their
several Distresses. As to Mr. _Theobald_, who wanted Money, I allowed him
to print what I gave him for his own Advantage: and he allowed himself in
the Liberty of taking one Part for his own, and sequestering another for
the Benefit, as I supposed, of some future Edition. But, as to the _Oxford
Editor_, who wanted nothing but what he might very well be without, the
Reputation of a Critic, I could not so easily forgive him for trafficking
with my Papers without my Knowledge; and, when that Project fail’d, for
employing a number of my Conjectures in his Edition against my express
Desire not to have that Honour done unto me.
Mr. _Theobald_ was naturally turned to Industry and Labour. What he read
he could transcribe: but, as what he thought, if ever he did think, he
could but ill express, so he read on; and by that means got a Character of
Learning, without risquing, to every Observer, the Imputation of wanting a
better Talent. By a punctilious Collation of the old Books, he corrected
what was manifestly wrong in the _latter_ Editions, by what was manifestly
right in the _earlier_. And this is his real merit; and the whole of it.
For where the Phrase was very obsolete or licentious in the _common_
Books, or only slightly corrupted in the _other_, he wanted sufficient
Knowledge of the Progress and various Stages of the _English_ Tongue, as
well as Acquaintance with the Peculiarity of _Shakespear_’s Language, to
understand what was right; nor had he either common Judgment to see, or
critical Sagacity to amend, what was manifestly faulty. Hence he generally
exerts his conjectural Talent in the wrong Place: He tampers with what is
found in the _common_ Books; and, in the _old_ ones, omits all Notice of
_Variations_ the Sense of which he did not understand.
How the _Oxford Editor_ came to think himself qualified for this Office,
from which his whole Course of Life had been so remote, is still more
difficult to conceive. For whatever Parts he might have either of Genius
or Erudition, he was absolutely ignorant of the Art of Criticism, as well
as the Poetry of that Time, and the Language of his Author: And so far
from a Thought of examining the _first_ Editions, that he even neglected
to compare Mr. _Pope_’s, from which he printed his own, with Mr.
_Theobald_’s; whereby he lost the Advantage of many fine Lines which the
other had recovered from the old Quartos. Where he trusts to his own
Sagacity, in what affects the Sense, his Conjectures are generally absurd
and extravagant, and violating every Rule of Criticism. Tho’, in this Rage
of Correcting, he was not absolutely destitute of all _Art_. For, having a
Number of my Conjectures before him, he took as many of them as he saw
fit, to work upon; and by changing them to something, he thought,
synonymous or similar, he made them his own; and so became a Critic at a
cheap Expence. But how well he hath succeeded in this, as likewise in his
Conjectures which are properly his own, will be seen in the course of my
Remarks: Tho’, as he hath declined to give the Reasons for his
Interpolations, he hath not afforded me so fair a hold of him as Mr.
_Theobald_ hath done, who was less cautious. But his principal Object was
to reform his Author’s Numbers; and this, which he hath done, on every
Occasion, by the Insertion or Omission of a set of harmless unconcerning
Expletives, makes up the gross Body of his innocent Corrections. And so,
in spite of that extreme Negligence in Numbers which distinguishes the
first Dramatic Writers, he hath tricked up the old Bard, from Head to
Foot, in all the finical Exactness of a modern Measurer of Syllables.
For the rest, all the Corrections which these two Editors have made on any
_reasonable_ Foundation, are here admitted into the Text, and carefully
assigned to their respective Authors: A piece of Justice which the _Oxford
Editor_ never did; and which the _Other_ was not always scrupulous in
observing towards me. To conclude with them in a word, They separately
possessed those two Qualities which, more than any other, have contributed
to bring the Art of Criticism into disrepute, _Dulness of Apprehension_,
and _Extravagance of Conjecture_.
I am now to give some Account of the present Undertaking. For as to all
those Things which have been published under the titles of _Essays_,
_Remarks_, _Observations_, &c. on _Shakespear_, (if you except some
critical Notes on _Macbeth_, given as a Specimen of a projected Edition,
and written, as appears, by a Man of Parts and Genius) the rest are
absolutely below a serious Notice.
The whole a Critic can do for an Author who deserves his Service, is to
correct the faulty Text; to remark the Peculiarities of Language; to
illustrate the obscure Allusions; and to explain the Beauties and Defects
of Sentiment or Composition. And surely, if ever Author had a Claim to
this Service, it was our _Shakespear_: Who, widely excelling in the
Knowledge of Human Nature, hath given to his infinitely varied Pictures of
it, such Truth of Design, such Force of Drawing, such Beauty of Colouring,
as was hardly ever equalled by any Writer, whether his Aim was the Use, or
only the Entertainment of Mankind. The Notes in this Edition, therefore,
take in the whole Compass of Criticism.
I. The first sort is employed in restoring the Poet’s genuine Text; but in
those Places only where it labours with inextricable Nonsense. In which,
how much soever I may have given Scope to critical Conjecture, where the
old Copies failed me, I have indulged nothing to Fancy or Imagination; but
have religiously observed the severe Canons of literal Criticism; as may
be seen from the Reasons accompanying every Alteration of the common Text.
Nor would a different Conduct have become a Critic whose greatest
Attention, in this part, was to vindicate the established Reading from
Interpolations occasioned by the fanciful Extravagancies of others. I once
intended to have given the Reader a _body of Canons_, for literal
Criticism, drawn out in form; as well such as concern the Art in general,
as those that arise from the Nature and Circumstances of our Author’s
Works in particular. And this for two Reasons. First, To give the
_unlearned Reader_ a just Idea, and consequently a better Opinion of the
Art of Criticism, now sunk very low in the popular Esteem, by the Attempts
of some who would needs exercise it without either natural or acquired
Talents; and by the ill Success of others, who seemed to have lost both,
when they came to try them upon _English_ Authors. Secondly, To deter the
_unlearned Writer_ from wantonly trifling with an Art he is a Stranger to,
at the Expence of his own Reputation, and the Integrity of the Text of
established Authors. But these Uses may be well supplied by what is
occasionally said upon the Subject, in the Course of the following
Remarks.
II. The second sort of Notes consists in an Explanation of the Author’s
Meaning, when, by one or more of these Causes, it becomes obscure; either
from a _licentious Use of Terms_; or a _hard or ungrammatical
Construction_; or lastly, from _far-fetch’d or quaint Allusions_.
1. This licentious Use of Words is almost peculiar to the Language of
_Shakespear_. To common Terms he hath affixed Meanings of his own,
unauthorised by Use, and not to be justified by Analogy. And this Liberty
he hath taken with the noblest Parts of Speech, such as _Mixed-modes_;
which, as they are most susceptible of Abuse, so their Abuse most hurts
the Clearness of the Discourse. The Critics (to whom _Shakespear_’s
Licence was still as much a Secret as his Meaning, which that Licence had
obscured) fell into two contrary Mistakes; but equally injurious to his
Reputation and his Writings. For some of them, observing a Darkness that
pervaded his whole Expression, have censured him for Confusion of Ideas
and Inaccuracy of reasoning. _In the Neighing of a Horse (__SAYS__ Rymer),
or in the Growling of a Mastiff, there is a Meaning, there is a lively
Expression, and, may I say, more Humanity than many times in the tragical
Flights of __SHAKESPEAR__._ The Ignorance of which Censure is of a Piece
with its Brutality. The Truth is, no one thought clearer, or argued more
closely than this immortal Bard. But his Superiority of Genius less
needing the Intervention of Words in the Act of Thinking, when he came to
draw out his Contemplations into Discourse, he took up (as he was hurried
on by the Torrent of his Matter) with the first Words that lay in his Way;
and if, amongst these, there were two _Mixed-modes_ that had but a
principal Idea in common, it was enough for him; he regarded them as
synonymous, and would use the one for the other without Fear or
Scruple.—Again, there have been others, such as the two last Editors, who
have fallen into a contrary Extreme, and regarded _Shakespear_’s Anomalies
(as we may call them) amongst the Corruptions of his Text; which,
therefore, they have cashiered in great Numbers, to make room for a Jargon
of their own. This hath put me to additional Trouble; for I had not only
their Interpolations to throw out again, but the genuine Text to replace,
and establish in its stead; which, in many Cases, could not be done
without shewing the peculiar Sense of the Terms, and explaining the Causes
which led the Poet to so perverse a use of them. I had it once, indeed, in
my Design, to give a general alphabetic _Glossary_ of these Terms; but as
each of them is explained in its proper Place, there seemed the less
Occasion for such an Index.
2. The Poet’s hard and unnatural Construction had a different Original.
This was the Effect of mistaken Art and Design. The Public Taste was in
its Infancy; and delighted (as it always does during that State) in the
high and turgid; which leads the Writer to disguise a vulgar expression
with hard and forced construction, whereby the Sentence frequently becomes
cloudy and dark. Here, his Critics shew their modesty, and leave him to
himself. For the arbitrary change of a Word doth little towards dispelling
an obscurity that ariseth, not from the licentious use of a single Term,
but from the unnatural arrangement of a whole Sentence. And they risqued
nothing by their silence. For _Shakespear_ was too clear in Fame to be
suspected of a want of Meaning; and too high in Fashion for any one to own
he needed a Critic to find it out. Not but, in his best works, we must
allow, he is often so natural and flowing, so pure and correct, that he is
even a model for stile and language.
3. As to his far-fetched and quaint Allusions, these are often a cover to
common thoughts; just as his hard construction is to common expression.
When they are not so, the Explanation of them has this further advantage,
that, in clearing the Obscurity, you frequently discover some latent
conceit not unworthy of his Genius.
III. The third and last sort of Notes is concerned in a critical
explanation of the Author’s Beauties and Defects; but chiefly of his
Beauties, whether in Stile, Thought, Sentiment, Character, or Composition.
An odd humour of finding fault hath long prevailed amongst the Critics; as
if nothing were worth _remarking_ that did not, at the same time, deserve
to be reproved. Whereas the public Judgment hath less need to be assisted
in what it shall reject, than in what it ought to prize; Men being
generally more ready at spying Faults than in discovering Beauties. Nor is
the value they set upon a Work, a certain proof that they understand it.
For ’tis ever seen, that half a dozen Voices of credit give the lead: And
if the Publick chance to be in good humour, or the Author much in their
favour, the People are sure to follow. Hence it is that the true Critic
hath so frequently attached himself to Works of established reputation;
not to teach the World to _admire_, which, in those circumstances, to say
the truth, they are apt enough to do of themselves; but to teach them how
_with reason to admire_: No easy matter, I will assure you, on the subject
in question: For tho’ it be very true, as Mr. _Pope_ hath observed, that
_Shakespear is the fairest and fullest subject for criticism_, yet it is
not such a sort of criticism as may be raised mechanically on the Rules
which _Dacier_, _Rapin_, and _Bossu_ have collected from Antiquity; and of
which such kind of Writers as _Rymer_, _Gildon_, _Dennis_, and _Oldmixon_,
have only gathered and chewed the Husks: nor on the other hand is it to be
formed on the plan of those crude and superficial Judgments, on books and
things, with which a certain celebrated Paper so much abounds; too good
indeed to be named with the Writers last mentioned, but being unluckily
mistaken for a _Model_, because it was an _Original_, it hath given rise
to a deluge of the worst sort of critical Jargon; I mean that which looks
most like sense. But the kind of criticism here required is such as
judgeth our Author by those only Laws and Principles on which he wrote,
NATURE, and COMMON-SENSE.
Our Observations, therefore, being thus extensive, will, I presume, enable
the Reader to form a right judgment of this favourite Poet, without
drawing out his Character, as was once intended, in a continued discourse.
These, such as they are, were amongst my younger amusements, when, many
years ago, I used to turn over these sort of Writers to unbend myself from
more serious applications: And what, certainly, the Public, at this time
of day, had never been troubled with, but for the conduct of the two last
Editors, and the persuasions of dear Mr. POPE; whose memory and name,
——semper acerbum,
Semper honoratum (sic Di voluistis) habebo.
He was desirous I should give a new Edition of this Poet, as he thought it
might contribute to put a stop to a prevailing folly of altering the Text
of celebrated Authors without Talents or Judgment. And he was willing that
_his_ Edition should be melted down into _mine_, as it would, he said,
afford him (so great is the modesty of an ingenuous temper) a fit
opportunity of confessing his Mistakes.(40) In memory of our Friendship, I
have, therefore, made it our joint Edition. His admirable Preface is here
added; all his Notes are given, with his name annexed; the Scenes are
divided according to his regulation; and the most beautiful passages
distinguished, as in his book, with inverted commas. In imitation of him,
I have done the same by as many others as I thought most deserving of the
Reader’s attention, and have marked them with _double_ commas.
If, from all this, _Shakespear_ or good Letters have received any
advantage, and the Public any benefit or entertainment, the thanks are due
to the _Proprietors_, who have been at the expence of procuring this
Edition. And I should be unjust to several deserving Men of a reputable
and useful Profession, if I did not, on this occasion, acknowledge the
fair dealing I have always found amongst them; and profess my sense of the
unjust Prejudice which lies against them; whereby they have been,
hitherto, unable to procure that security for their Property, which they
see the rest of their Fellow-Citizens enjoy: A prejudice in part arising
from the frequent _Piracies_ (as they are called) committed by Members of
their own Body. But such kind of Members no Body is without. And it would
be hard that this should be turned to the discredit of the honest part of
the Profession, who suffer more from such Injuries than any other men. It
hath, in part too, arisen from the clamours of profligate Scriblers, ever
ready, for a piece of Money, to prostitute their bad sense for or against
any Cause prophane or sacred; or in any Scandal public or private: These
meeting with little encouragement from Men of account in the Trade (who
even in this enlightened Age are not the very worst Judges or Rewarders of
merit), apply themselves to People of Condition; and support their
importunities by false complaints against _Booksellers_.
But I should now, perhaps, rather think of my own Apology, than busy
myself in the defence of others. I shall have some _Tartuffe_ ready, on
the first appearance of this Edition, to call out again, and tell me, that
_I suffer myself to be wholly diverted from my purpose by these matters
less suitable to my clerical Profession_. “Well, but,” says a friend, “why
not take so candid an intimation in good part? Withdraw yourself, again,
as you are bid, into the clerical Pale; examine the Records of sacred and
profane Antiquity; and, on them, erect a Work to the confusion of
Infidelity.” Why, I have done all this, and more: And hear now what the
same Men have said to it. They tell me, _I have wrote to the wrong and
injury of Religion, and furnished out more handles for Unbelievers_. “Oh
now the secret’s out; and you may have your pardon, I find, upon easier
terms. ’Tis only, to write no more.”—Good Gentlemen! and shall I not
oblige them? They would gladly _obstruct_ my way to those things which
every Man, who _endeavours well_ in his Profession, must needs think he
has some claim to, when he sees them given to those who never did
_endeavour_; at the same time that they would _deter_ me from taking those
advantages which Letters enable me to procure for myself. If then I am to
write no more (tho’ as much out of my Profession as they may please to
represent this Work, I suspect their modesty would not insist on a
scrutiny of our several applications of this profane profit and their
purer gains); if, I say, I am to write no more, let me at least give the
Public, who have a better pretence to demand it of me, some reason for my
presenting them with these amusements. Which, if I am not much mistaken,
may be excused by the best and fairest _Examples_; and, what is more, may
be justified on the surer _reason of things_.
The great Saint CHRYSOSTOM, a name consecrated to immortality by his
Virtue and Eloquence, is known to have been so fond of _Aristophanes_ as
to wake with him at his studies, and to sleep with him under his pillow:
and I never heard that this was objected either to his Piety or his
Preaching, not even in those times of pure Zeal and primitive Religion.
Yet, in respect of _Shakespear_’s great sense, _Aristophanes_’s best wit
is but buffoonry; and, in comparison of _Aristophanes_’s Freedoms,
_Shakespear_ writes with the purity of a Vestal. But they will say, St.
_Chrysostom_ contracted a fondness for the comic Poet _for the sake of his
Greek_. To this, indeed, I have nothing to reply. Far be it from me to
insinuate so unscholarlike a thing, as if We had the same Use for good
_English_ that a _Greek_ had for his _Attic_ elegance. Critic _Kuster_, in
a taste and language peculiar to Grammarians of a certain order, hath
decreed, that _the History and Chronology of __GREEK__ Words is the most
SOLID entertainment of a Man of Letters_.
I fly, then, to a higher Example, much nearer home, and still more in
point, The famous University of OXFORD. This illustrious Body, which hath
long so justly held, and, with such equity, dispensed, the chief honours
of the learned World, thought good Letters so much interested in correct
Editions of the best _English_ Writers, that they, very lately, in their
publick Capacity, undertook _one_, of this very Author, by subscription.
And if the Editor hath not discharged his Task with suitable abilities for
one so much honoured by them, this was not their fault but his, who thrust
himself into the employment. After such an Example, it would be weakening
any defence to seek further for Authorities. All that can be now decently
urged is the _reason of the thing_; and this I shall do, more for the sake
of that truly venerable Body than my own.
Of all the literary exercitations of speculative Men, whether designed for
the use or entertainment of the World, there are none of so much
importance, or what are more our immediate concern, than those which let
us into the knowledge of our Nature. Others may exercise the Reason, or
amuse the Imagination; but these only can improve the Heart, and form the
human Mind to Wisdom. Now, in this Science, our _Shakespear_ is confessed
to occupy the foremost place; whether we consider the amazing sagacity
with which he investigates every hidden spring and wheel of human Action;
or his happy manner of communicating this knowledge, in the just and
living paintings which he has given us of all our Passions, Appetites, and
Pursuits. These afford a lesson which can never be too often repeated, or
too constantly inculcated; And, to engage the Reader’s due attention to
it, hath been one of the principal objects of this Edition.
As this Science (whatever profound Philosophers may think) is, to the
rest, _in Things_; so, _in Words_ (whatever supercilious Pedants may
talk), every one’s mother tongue is to all other Languages. This hath
still been the Sentiment of Nature and true Wisdom. Hence, the greatest
men of Antiquity never thought themselves better employed than in
cultivating their own country idiom. So _Lycurgus_ did honour to _Sparta_,
in giving the first compleat Edition of _Homer_; and _Cicero_, to _Rome_,
in correcting the Works of _Lucretius_. Nor do we want Examples of the
same good sense in modern Times, even amidst the cruel inrodes that Art
and Fashion have made upon Nature and the simplicity of Wisdom. _Ménage_,
the greatest name in _France_ for all kind of philologic Learning, prided
himself in writing critical Notes on their best lyric Poet, _Malherbe_:
And our greater _Selden_, when he thought it might reflect credit on his
Country, did not disdain even to comment a very ordinary Poet, one
_Michael Drayton_. But the _English_ tongue, at this Juncture, deserves
and demands our particular regard. It hath, by means of the many excellent
Works of different kinds composed in it, engaged the notice, and become
the study, of almost every curious and learned Foreigner, so as to be
thought even a part of literary accomplishment. This must needs make it
deserving of a critical attention: And its being yet destitute of a Test
or Standard to apply to, in cases of doubt or difficulty, shews how much
it wants that attention. For we have neither GRAMMAR nor DICTIONARY,
neither Chart nor Compass, to guide us through this wide sea of Words. And
indeed how should we? since both are to be composed and finished on the
Authority of our best established Writers. But their Authority can be of
little use till the Text hath been correctly settled, and the Phraseology
critically examined. As, then, by these aids, a _Grammar_ and
_Dictionary_, planned upon the best rules of Logic and Philosophy (and
none but such will deserve the name), are to be procured; the forwarding
of this will be a general concern: For, as _Quintilian_ observes,
“Verborum _proprietas_ ac _differentia_ omnibus, qui sermonem curæ habent,
debet esse communis.” By this way, the _Italians_ have brought their
tongue to a degree of Purity and Stability which no living Language ever
attained unto before. It is with pleasure I observe, that these things now
begin to be understood amongst ourselves; and that I can acquaint the
Public, we may soon expect very elegant Editions of _Fletcher_ and
_Milton_’s _Paradise Lost_ from Gentlemen of distinguished Abilities and
Learning. But this interval of good sense, as it may be short, is indeed
but new. For I remember to have heard of a very learned Man, who, not long
since, formed a design of giving a more correct Edition of _Spenser_; and,
without doubt, would have performed it well; but he was dissuaded from his
purpose by his Friends, as beneath the dignity of a Professor of the
occult Sciences. Yet these very Friends, I suppose, would have thought it
had added lustre to his high Station, to have new-furbished out some dull
northern Chronicle, or dark Sibylline Ænigma. But let it not be thought
that what is here said insinuates any thing to the discredit of _Greek_
and _Latin_ criticism. If the follies of particular Men were sufficient to
bring any branch of Learning into disrepute, I don’t know any that would
stand in a worse situation than that for which I now apologize. For I
hardly think there ever appeared, in any _learned_ Language, so execrable
a heap of nonsense, under the name of Commentaries, as hath been lately
given us on a certain satyric Poet, of the last Age, by his Editor and
Coadjutor.
I am sensible how unjustly the very best _classical_ Critics have been
treated. It is said that our great Philosopher spoke with much contempt of
the two finest Scholars of this Age, Dr. _Bentley_ and Bishop _Hare_, for
squabbling, as he expressed it, about an old Play-book; meaning, I
suppose, _Terence_’s Comedies. But this Story is unworthy of him; tho’
well enough suiting the fanatic turn of the wild Writer that relates it;
such censures are amongst the follies of men immoderately given over to
one Science, and ignorantly undervaluing all the rest. Those learned
Critics might, and perhaps did, laugh in their turn (tho’ still, sure,
with the same indecency and indiscretion) at that incomparable Man, for
wearing out a long Life in poring through a Telescope. Indeed, the
weaknesses of Such are to be mentioned with reverence. But who can bear,
without indignation, the fashionable cant of every trifling Writer, whose
insipidity passes, with himself, for politeness, for pretending to be
shocked, forsooth, with the rude and savage air of _vulgar_ Critics;
meaning such as _Muretus_, _Scaliger_, _Casaubon_, _Salmasius_,
_Spanheim_, _Bentley_. When, had it not been for the deathless labours of
such as these, the western World, at the revival of Letters, had soon
fallen back again into a state of ignorance and barbarity as deplorable as
that from which Providence had just redeemed it.
To conclude with an observation of a fine Writer and great Philosopher of
our own; which I would gladly bind, tho’ with all honour, as a Phylactery,
on the Brow of every awful Grammarian, to teach him at once the _Use_ and
_Limits_ of his art: WORDS ARE THE MONEY OF FOOLS, AND THE COUNTERS OF
WISE MEN.