and establish the restoration of the genuine readings; fome others have been as necessary for the explanation of paffages obfcure and difficult. To understand the neceffity and use of this part of my task, fome particulars of my Author's character are previoufly to be explained. There are Obfcurities in him, which are common to him with all Poets of the fame fpecies; there are others, the iffue of the times he lived in; and there are others, again, peculiar to himfelf. The nature of comic poetry being entirely fatyrical, it bufies itself more in expofing what we call caprice and humour, than vices cognizable to the laws. The English, from the happiness of a free conftitution, and a turn of mind peculiarly fpeculative and inquifitive, are obferved to produce more Humourifts and a greater variety of original Characters, than any other people whatfoever and thefe owing their immediate birth to the peculiar genius of each age, an infinite number of things alluded to, glanced at, and expofed, muft needs become obfcure, as the characters themselves are antiquated, and difufed. An Editor therefore fhould be well versed in the history and manners of his Author's age, if he aims at doing him a service in this refpect.

Befides, Wit lying moftly in the affemblage of Ideas, and in the putting those together with quickness and variety, wherein can be found any. refemblance, or congruity, to make up pleasant pictures, and agreeable vifions in the fancy; the

writer,

writer, who aims at wit, muft of courfe range far and wide for materials. Now, the age, in which Shakespeare lived, having, above all others, a won-, derful affection, to appear learned, they declined vulgar images, fuch as are immediately fetched from nature, and ranged through the circle of the fciences to fetch their ideas from thence. But as

the resemblances of fuch ideas to the fubje& must neceffarily lie very much out of the common way, and every piece of wit appear a riddle to the vulgar; This, that fhould 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 attached to it. The oftentatious affectation of abftrufe 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 obfcurity. Thus became the poetry of DONNE (though the wittiest man of that age,) nothing but a continued heap of riddles. And our Shakespeare, with all his eafy nature about him, for want of the knowledge of the true rules of art, falls frequently into this vicious manner.

The third fpecies of Obfcurities, which deform our Author, as the effects of his own genius and character, are thofe that proceed from his peculiar manner of thinking, and as peculiar a manner of cloathing thofe thoughts. With regard to his thinking, it is certain, that he had a general knowledge of all the fciences: but his acquainb 3

tance

tance 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 fource of admiration, we are not to wonder that he has perpetual allufions to the moft recondite parts of the fciences and this was done not fo much out of affectation, as the effect of admiration begot by novelty. Then, as to his ftyle and diction, we may much more juftly apply to SHAKESPEARE, what a celebrated writer has faid of MILTON; • Our language funk under him, and was unequal to that greatnefs of foul which furnished him ' with fuch glorious conceptions.' He therefore frequently uses old words, to give his diction an air of folemnity; as he coins others, to express the novelty and variety of his ideas.

Upon every diftinct fpecies of thefe Obscurities I have thought it my province to employ a note, for the fervice of my author, and the entertainment of my readers. A few tranfient remarks too I have not fcrupled to intermix, upon the Poet's negligences and omiffions in point of art; but I have done it always in fuch a manner, as will testify my deference and veneration for the immortal Author.

I had not mentioned the modeft liberty I have here and there taken of animadverting on my Author, but that I was willing to obviate in time the fplenetic exaggerations of my adverfaries on this head. From paft experiments I have reafon to be conscious, in what light this attempt may be placed:

placed and that what I call a modeft liberty, will, by a little of their dexterity, be inverted into downright impudence. From a hundred mean and dishonest artifices employed to difcredit this edition, and to cry down its Editor, I have all the grounds in nature to be aware of attacks. But though the malice of wit joined to the smoothness of versification may furnish some ridicule; fact, I hope, will be able to ftand its ground against banter and gaiety.

It has been my fate, it feems, as I thought it my duty, to discover fome Anachronisms in our Author; which might have flept in obscurity but for this Restorer, as Mr. Pope is pleased affectionately to style me; as for inftance, where Ariflotle is mentioned by Hector in Troilus and Creffida : and Galen, Cato, and Alexander the Great, in Coriolanus. Thefe, in Mr. Pope's opinion, are blunders, which the illiteracy of the first publishers of his works has fathered 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 fufficiently proved, in the courfe of my notes, that fuch 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 reftore 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

in the inftance of Sir Francis Drake, to whic h I have spoke in the proper place?

How juft, notwithstanding, I have been in detecting the anachronisms of my Author, and in defending him for the ufe of them, our late Editor feems to think, they should rather have slept in› obfcurity and the having difcovered them is fneered at, as a fort of wrong-headed fagacity.

The numerous corrections, which I made of the Poet's text in my SHAKESPEARE Reftor'd, and which the public have been fo kind to think well of, are, in the appendix of Mr. Pope's laft edition, flightingly call'dVarious Readings, Gueffes, &'c. He confeffes to have inferted as many of them as he judged of any the least advantage to to the Poet; but fays, that the whole amounted to about twenty-five words: and pretends to have annexed a compleat lift of the rest, which were not worth his embracing. Whoever has read my book will at one glance fee, how in both thefe points veracity is ftrained, fo an injury might but be done. Malus etfi obeffe non pote, tamen cogitat.

Another expedient, to make my work appear of a trifling nature, has been an attempt to depreciate literal criticifm. To this end, and to pay a fervile compliment to Mr. Pope, an anonymous writer has, like a Scotch pedlar in wit, unbraced his pack on the fubject. But, that his virulence might not feem to be levelled fingly at me, he has done me the honour to join Dr. Bentley in the libel. I was in hopes, we fhould have been both

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