conjectures are generally absurd and extravagant, and violating every rule of criticism. Though, in this rage of correcting, he was not abfolutely deftitute 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 fimilar, he made them his own; and so became a critick at a cheap expence. But how well he hath fucceeded in this, as likewise in his conjectures, which are properly his own, will be seen in the course of my remarks; though, 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 occafion, by the infertion or omiffion 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 diftinguishes the first dramatick writers, he hath tricked up the old bard, from head to foot, in all the finical exactness of a modern measurer of fyllables. For the rest, all the corrections, which these two editors have made on any reasonable foundation, are here admitted into the text; and carefully affigned to their respective authors: a piece of juftice which the Oxford editor never did; and which the other was not always fcrupulous in observing towards me. To conclude with them in a word, they separately poffefsed those two qualities which, more than any other, have contributed to bring the art of criticism into disrepute, dulness of apprehenfion, 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, Obfervations, &c. on Shakspeare, (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 critick can do for an author, who deferves his service, is to correct the faulty text; to remark the peculiarities of language; to illuftrate the obfcure altufions; and to explain the beauties and defects of sentiment or composition. And furely, if ever author had a claim to this fervice, it was our Shakspeare; who, widely excelling in the knowledge of human nature, hath given to his infinitely varied pictures of it, fuch 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 criticifm. I. The first fort is employed in restoring the poet's genuine text; but in those places only where it labours with inextricable nonsense. In which, how much foever I may have given scope to criti cal 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 critick, whose greatest attention, in this part, was to vindicate the established reading from interpola. • Published in 1745, by Dr. Johnson. REÉD, tions 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 those that arife 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 confequently a better opinion of the art of criticism, now funk 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 fuccess of others, who feemed 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 occafionally faid upon the fubject, in the course of the following remarks. II. The second fort of notes confifts in an explanation of the author's meaning, when by one or more of these causes it becomes obfcure; either from a licentious use of terms, or a hard or ungrammatical construction; or lastly, from far-fetched or quaint allufions. 1. This licentious use of words is almost peculiar to the language of Shakspeare. To common terms he hath affixed meanings of his own, unauthorized 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 much hurts the clearness of the discourse. The criticks (to whom Shakspeare's licence was still as much a secret as his meaning which that licence ۱ had obfcured) fell into two contrary mistakes; but equally injurious to his reputation and his writings. For fome of them, observing a darkness that pervaded his whole expreffion, have cenfured him for confufion 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 Shakspeare. 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 fuperiority of genius less needing the intervention of words in the act of thinking, when he came to draw out his contemplations into difcourse, 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 fcruple. Again, there have been others, fuch as the two last editors, who have fallen into a contrary extreme; and regarded Shakspeare'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 cafes, could not be done without showing 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 alphabetick glossary of those terms; but as each of them is explained in its proper place, there seemed the less occafion 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 publick 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 expreffion with hard and forced construction, whereby the sentence frequently becomes cloudy and dark. Here his criticks show their modesty, and leave him to himself. For the arbitrary change of a word doth little towards dispelling an obfcurity that ariseth, not from the licentious use of a fingle term, but from the unnatural arrangement of a whole fentence. And they risqued nothing by their filence. For Shakspeare 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 critick 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 style 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 expreffion. 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 fort of notes is concerned in a critical explanation of the author's beauties and defects; but chiefly of his beauties, whether in style, thought, sentiment, character, or composition. An odd humour of finding fault hath long prevailed amongst the criticks; as if nothing |