he started early into a fcience from the force of genius, unequally affifted by acquired improvements. His fire, fpirit, and exuberance of imagination gave an impetuofity to his pen: his ideas flowed from him in a ftream rapid, but not turbulent; copious, but not ever overbearing its thores. The eafe 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 ufed the helps of his function in forming himself to create and exprefs that fublime, which other actors can only copy, and throw out, in action and graceful attitude. But, Nullum fine veniâ placuit ingenium, fays Seneca. The genius, that gives us the greatest pleasure, fometimes ftands in need of our indulgence. Whenever this happens with regard to Shakespeare, I would willingly impute it to a vice of his times. We fee complaifance enough, in our days, paid to a bad taste. So that his clinches, falfe wit, and defcending beneath himself, may have proceeded from a deference paid to the then reigning barbarifm.. I have not thought it out of my province, whenever occafion offered, to take notice of fome of our poet's grand touches of nature: fome, that do not appear fufficiently fuch; but in which he feems the most deeply inftructed; and to which, no doubt, he has fo much owed that happy preservation of his characters, for which he is justly cele brated. Great genius's, like his, naturally unambitious, are fatisfied to conceal their art in thefe points. It is the foible of your worfer poets to make a parade and oftentation of that little fcience they have; and to throw it out in the most ambitious colours. And whenever a writer of this class fhall attempt to copy thefe artful concealments of our author, and shall either think them eafy, or practifed by a writer for his eafe, he will foon be convinced of his mistake by the difficulty of reaching the imitation of them. Speret idem, fudet multùm, fruftrâque laboret, Indeed, to point out and exclaim upon all the beauties of Shakespeare, as they come fingly in review, would be as infipid, as endlefs; as tedious, as unneceffary: but the explanation of those beauties that are lefs obvious to common readers, and whofe illuftration depends on the rules of juft criticism, [13] criticifm, and an exact knowledge of human life, fhould deservedly have a fhare in a general critick upon the author. But to pafs over at once to another fubject: It has been allowed on all hands, how far our author was indebted to nature; it is not fo well agreed, how much he owed to languages and acquired learning. The decifions on this fubject were certainly fet on foot by the hint from Ben Jonson, that he had fniall Latin and lefs 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 tafte (continues he) and the natural bent of his own "great genius (equal, if not fuperior, to fome of the best "of theirs) would certainly have led him to read and ftu"dy them with fo much pleafure, that fome of their fine "images would naturally have infinuated themselves into, "and been mixed with his own writings: and fo his not copying, at leaft, fomething from them, may be an ar66 gument of his never having read them." I fhall leave it to the determination of my learned readers, from the numerous paffages which I have occafionally quoted in my notes, in which our poet feems closely to have imitated the clafficks, whether Mr. Rowe's affertion be fo abfolutely to be depended on. The refult of the controverfy 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. Though I fhould be very unwilling to allow Shakespeare fo poor a scholar, as many have laboured to reprefent him, yet I fhall be very cautious of declaring too pofitively on the other fide of the queftion; that is, with regard to my opinion of his knowledge in the dead languages. And therefore the paffages, that I occafionally quote from the clafficks, fhall not be urged as proofs that he knowingly imitated those originals; but brought to fhew how happily he has expreffed himfelf upon the fame topicks. A very learned critick of our own nation has declared, that a famenefs of thought and famenefs of expreflion too, in two writers of a different age, can hardly happen, without a violent fufpicion of the latter copying from his predeceffor, I shall pot therefore run any great rifque of a cenfure, though I fhould should venture to hint, that the refemblances in thought and expreffion of our author and an ancient (which we should allow to be imitation in the one, whofe learning was not queftioned) may fometimes take its rife from strength of memory, and thofe impreffions which he owed to the fchool. And if we may allow a poffibility of this, confidering that, when he quitted the fchool, he gave into his father's profeffion and way of living, and had, it is likely, but a slender library of claffical learning; and confidering what a number of translations, romances, and legends started about his time, and a little before (most of which, it is very evident, he read) I think it may eafily be reconciled, why he rather fchemed his plots and characters from these more latter informations, than went back to thofe fountains, for which he might entertain a fincere veneration, but to which he could not have fo ready a recourfe. In touching on another part of his learning, as it related to the knowledge of history and books, I fhall advance fomething, that, at first fight, will very much wear the appearance of a paradox. For I fhall find it no hard matter to prove, that, from the groffeft blunders in hiftory, we are not to infer his real ignorance of it: nor from a greater ufe of Latin words, than ever any other English author ufed, must we infer his intimate acquaintance with that language. A reader of taste may eafily obferve, that though Shakefpeare, almost in every fcene of his hiftorical plays, commits the groffeft offences against chronology, hiftory, and ancient politicks; yet this was not through ignorance, as is generally fuppofed, but through the too powerful blaze of his imagination; which, when once raifed, made all acquired knowledge vanish and disappear before it. But this licence in him, as I have faid, muft not be imputed to ignorance : fince as often we may find him, when occafion ferves, reafoning up to the truth of hiftory; and throwing out sentiments as juftly adapted to the circumstances of his fubject, as to the dignity of his characters, or dictates of nature in general. Then to come to his knowledge of the Latin tongue, it is certain, there is a furprifing elufion of Latin words made. English, far more than in any one English author I have feen; but we must be cautious to imagine, this was of his own doing. For the English tongue, in his age, began extremely to fuffer by an inundation of Latin: and this, to be fure, was occafioned by the pedantry of thofe two monarchs, Elizabeth and James, both great Latinifts. For it is not to be wondered at, if both the court and fchools, equal flatterers of power, fhould adapt themfelves to the royal taste. But now I am touching on the queftion (which has been fo frequently agitated, yet fo 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 Jonfon his contemporary. They are confeiledly the greatest writers our nation could ever boaft of in the drama. The firft, we fay, owed all to his prodigious natural genius; and the other a great deal to his art and learning. This, if attended to, will explain at very remarkable appearance in their writings. Befides thofe wonderful mafter-pieces 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 Jonfon's bad pieces we do not difcover one fingle trace of the author of The Fox and Alchymist: but in the wild extravagant notes of Shakespeare you every now and then encounter strains that recognize the divine compofer. This difference may be thus accounted for. Jonfon, as we faid before, owing all his excellence to his art, by which he fometimes ftrained himself to an uncommon pitch, when at other times he unbent and played with his fubject, having nothing then to support him, it is no wonder that he wrote fo far beneath himfelf. Shakespeare, indebted more largely to nature, than the other to acquired talents, in his moft negligent hours could never fo totally diveft himfelf of his genius, but that it would frequently break out with aftonishing force and splen dor. But As I have never propofed to dilate farther on the character of my author, than was neceflary to explain the nature and ufe of this edition, I fhall proceed to confider him as a genius in poffeffion of an everlafting name. And how great that merit muft be, which could gain it against all the difadvantages of the horrid condition in which he has hitherto appeared! Had Homer, or any other admired author, firit farted into publick fo maimed and deformed, we cannot determine whether they had not funk for ever under the ignominy of fuch an ill appearance. The mangled condition of Shakespeare has been acknowledged by Mr. Rowe, who publifhed him indeed, but neither corrected his text, por collated the old copies. This gentleman had abilities, and fufficient fufficient knowledge of his author, had but his industry been equal to his talents. The fame mangled condition has been acknowledged too by Mr. Pope, who publifhed him likewife, pretended to have collated the old copies, and yet feldom has corrected the text but to its injury. I congratulate with the manes of our poet, that this gentleman has been fparing in indulging his private fenfe, as he phrafes it; for he, who tampers with an author, whom he does not underftand, must do it at the expence of his fubject. 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 eft nefcio quis Popa, qui non vitia ejus, fed ipfum excidit. He has attacked him like an unhandy flaughter man; and not lopped off the errors, but the poet. When this is found to be the fact, how abfurd muft appear the praifes of fuch an editor? It feems a moot point, whether Mr. Pope has done moft injury to Shakespeare, as his editor and encomiaft; or Mr. Rymer done him fervice, as his rival and cenfurer. They have both fhewn themselves in an equal impuiffance of fufpecting or amending the corrupted paffages: and though it be neither prudence to cenfure, or commend what one does not understand; yet if a man muft do one when he plays the critick, the latter is the more ridiculous office; and by that Shakespeare fuffers moft. For the natural veneration which we have for him, makes us apt to fwallow whatever is given us as his, and fet off with encomiums; and hence we quit all fufpicions of depravity: on the contrary, the cenfure of fo divine an author fets us upon his defence; and this produces an exact fcrutiny and examination, which ends in finding out and difcriminating the true from the spurious. It is not with any fecret pleasure, that I fo 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 fo much inveteracy, that, not to dispute whether they should come from a chriflian, they leave it a queftion whether they could come from a man. I fhould be Joth to doubt, as Quintus Serenus did in a like cafe: Sive homo, feu fimilis turpiffima beftia nobis The |
