Dr. WAR BURTON's PREF FAC T hath been no unusual thing for writers, when diffatisfied with the patronage or judgment of their own times, to appeal to pofterity for a fair hearing. Some have even thought fit to apply to it in the firft inftance; and to decline acquaintance with the publick, till envy and prejudice had quite fubfided. But, of all the trufters to futurity, commend me to the author of the following poems, who not only left it to time to do him juftice 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 efcaped the common fate of thofe writings, how good foever, which are abandoned to their own. fortune, and unprotected by party or cabal. At length, indeed, they ftruggled into light; but fo disguised and travefted, that no claflick author, after having run ten fecular flages through the blind cloifters of monks and canons, ever came out in half fo maimed and mangled a condition. But for a full account of his diforders, I refer the reader to the excellent difcourfe which follows, and turn myself to confider the remedies that have been applied to them. Shakespeare's works, when they escaped the players, did not fall into much better hands when they came amongst printers and bookfellers; who, to fay the truth, had at first but small encouragement for putting him into a better condition. The ftubborn nonfenfe, with which he was incrusted, occafioned his lying long neglected amongst the common lumber of the ftage. And when that refiftless splendor, which now fhoots all around him, had, by degrees, broke through the fhell of thofe impurities, his dazzled admirers became as fuddenly infenfible to the extraneous fcurf that ftill ftuck upon him, as they had been before to the na [K4] tive tive beauties that lay under it. So that, as then he was thought not to deserve a cure, he was now fuppofed not to need any. His growing eminence, however, required that he fhould. be used with ceremony; and he foon had his appointment of an editor in form. But the bookfeller, whofe dealing was with wits, having learnt of them, I know not what filly maxim, that none but a poet should prefume to meddle with a poet, engaged the ingenious Mr. Rowe to undertake this employment. A wit indeed he was; but fo utterly unacquainted with the whole bufinefs of criticifm, that he did not even collate or confult the first editions of the work he undertook to publish; but contented himfelf with giving us a meagre account of the author's life, interlarded with fome commonplace fcraps from his writings. The truth is, Shakespeare's condition was yet but ill understood. The nonfenfe, now, by confent, 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 fhewing us, that the higher we went, the lefs of it was ftill to be found. For the proprietors, not difcouraged by their first unfuccefsful effort, in due time, made a fecond; and, though they still stuck to their poets, with infinitely more fuccefs in their choice of Mr. Pope, who, by the mere force of an uncommon genius, without any particular study or profeffion of this art, difcharged the great parts of it fo well, as to make his edition the beft foundation for all further improvements. He feparated the genuine from the fpurious plays; and, with equal judgment, though not always with the fame fuccefs, attempted to clear the genuine plays from the interpolated fcenes: he then confulted the old editions; and, by a careful collation of them, rectified the faulty, and fupplied the imperfect reading in a great number of places : and lastly, in an admirable preface, hath drawn a general, but very lively sketch of Shakespeare's poctick character: and, in the corrected text, marked out thofe peculiar ftrokes of genius which were moft proper to fupport and illuftrate that character. Thus far Mr. Pope. And although much more was to be done before Shakespeare could be reftored to himfelf (fuch as amending the corrupted text where the printed books afford no afliftance; explaining his licentious phrafeology and obfcure allufions; and illuftrating the beauties of his poetry) yet, with great modefty and prudence, our illuftrious editor left this to the critick by profeffion. But 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 fince made by Mr. Theobald and Sir Thomas Hanmer in oppofition to it; who, although they concerned themselves only in the first of these three parts of criticism, the restoring the text (without any conception of the fecond, or venturing even to touch upon the third) yet fucceeded fo 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 fome accidental connexions with thefe 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 critick: and to each of them, at different times, I communicated a great number of obfervations, which they managed, as they faw fit, to the relief of their feveral diftreffes. 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 fequeftering another for the benefit, as I fuppofed, of fome future edition. But, as to the Oxford editor, who wanted nothing, but what he might very well be without, the reputation of a critick, I could not so easily forgive him for trafficking with my papers without my knowledge; and, when that project failed, for employing a number of my conjectures in his edition against my express defire 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 rifquing, to every obferver, the imputation of wanting a better talent. By a punctilious collation of the old books, he corrected what was manifeftly wrong in the latter editions, by what was manifeftly right in the earlier. And this is his real merit; and the whole of it. For where the phrafe was very obfolete or licentious in the common books, or only flightly corrupted in the other, he wanted fufficient knowledge of the progrefs and various ftages of the English tongue, as well as acquaintance with the peculiarity of Shakespeare's language, to understand what was right; nor had he either common judgment to fee, or critical fagacity to amend, what was manifeftly faulty. Hence he generally exerts his conjectural talent in the wrong place: he tampers tampers with what is found in the common books; and, in the old ones, omits all notice of variations, the fenfe of which he did not understand. How the Oxford editor came to think himself qualified for this office, from which his whole courfe of life had been fo remote, is ftil more difficult to conceive. For whatever parts he might have either of genius or erudition, he was abfolutely ignorant of the art of criticifm, as well as of the poetry of that time, and the language of his author. And fo 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 loft the advantage of many fine lines, which the other had recovered from the old quartos. Where he trufts to his own fagacity, in what affects the fenfe, his conjectures are generally abfurd and extravagant, and violating every rule of criticifm. Though, in this rage of correcting, he was not abfolutely deftitute of all art. For, having a number of my conjec,tures before him, he took as many of them as he faw fit, to work upon; and by changing them to fomething, he thought, fynonymous or fimilar, he made them his own; and fo became a critick at a cheap expence. But how well he hath fucceeded in this, as likewife in his conjectures, which are properly his own, will be feen in the courfe of my remarks: though, as he hath declined to give the reafons for his interpolations, he hath not afforded me fo fair a hold of him as Mr. Theobald hath done, who was lefs cautious. But his principal object was to reform his author's numbers; and this, which he hath done, on every occafion, by the infertion or omiffion of a fet of harmless unconcerning expletives, makes up the grofs body of his innocent corrections. And fo, in fpite of that extreme negligence in numbers, which diftinguishes the first dramatick writers, he hath tricked up the old bard, from head to foot, in all the finical exactnefs of a modern meafurer of fyllables. For the reft, all the corrections, which thefe two editors. have made on any reasonable foundation, are here admitted into the text; and carefully affigned to their respective authors. A piece of justice which the Oxford editor never did; and which the other was not always fcrupulous in obferving towards me. To conclude with them in a word, they feparately poffeffed thofe two qualities which, more than any other, have contributed to bring the art of criti çiẩm cifm into difrepute, dulnefs of apprehenfion, and extravagance of conjecture. I am now to give fome account of the prefent undertaking. For as to all thofe things which have been published under the titles of Effays, Remarks, Obfervations, &c. on Shakfpeare (if you except fome critical notes on Macbeth, given as a fpecimen of a projected edition, and written, as appears, by a man of parts and genius) the reft are abfolutely below a ferious notice. The whole a critick can do for an author, who deferves his fervice, is to correct the faulty text; to remark the peculiarities of language; to illuftrate the obfcure allufions; and to explain the beauties and defects of fentiment or compofition. And furely, if ever author had a claim to this fervice, it was our Shakespeare; who, widely excelling in the knowledge of human nature, hath given to his infinitely varied pictures of it, fuch truth of defign, fuch force of drawing, fuch beauty of colouring, as was hardly ever equalled by any writer, whether his aim was the ufe, or only the entertainment of mankind. The notes in this edition, therefore, take in the whole compafs of criticifm. I. The first fort is employed in reftoring the poet's genuine text; but in thofe places only where it labours with inextricable nonfenfe. In which, how much foever I may have given fcope to critical conjecture, where the old copics failed me, I have indulged nothing to fancy or imagination; but have religioufly obferved the fevere canons of literal criticifm, as may be feen from the reasons accompanying every alteration of the common text. Nor would a different conduct have become a critick, whofe greateft attention, in this part, was to vindicate the established reading from interpolations occafioned 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 fuch as concern the art in general, as thofe that arise from the nature and circumftances of our author's works in particular. And this for two reasons. First, to give the unlearned reader a juft idea, and confequently a better opinion of the art of criticifm, now funk very low in the popular efteem, by the attempts of fome who would needs exercife it without either natural or acquired talents; and by the ill fuccefs of others, who feemed to have loft both, when they came to try them upon English authors. Secondly, To deter the unlearned writer from wantonly trifling with an art he |