Chapter VIII: Letter III: Sir, Feb. 8 (2)

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.

SIR THOMAS HANMER: PREFACE TO EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE. 1744.