made to them. Hence we derive many Chafms and Inco herences in the Senfe, and Matter. Scenes were fre quently tranfpofed, and fhuffled out of their true Place, to humour the Caprice, or fuppofed Convenience, of fome particular Actor. Hence much Confufion and Impropriety has attended, and embarrass'd the Business and Fable. To thefe obvious Caufes of Corruption, it must be added, That our Author has lain under the Difadvantage 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 Affiftance of any intelligent Editor: which has been the Cafe likewife of many a Claffic Writer.

The Nature of any Diftemper once found has generally been the immediate Step to a Cure. ShakeSpeare's Cafe has in a great Measurere fembled That of a corrupt Claffic; and, confequently, the Method of Cure was likewife to bear a Refemblance. By what Means, and with what Succefs, this Cure has been effected on ancient Writers, is too well known, and needs no formal Illuftration. The Reputation, confequent on Tafks of that Nature, invited me to attempt the Method here; with this View, the Hopes of reftoring to the Publick their greatest Poet in his original Purity after having fo long lain in a Condition that was a Difgrace to common Senfe. To this end I have ventured on a Labour, that is the firft Affay 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 Excrefcences of the Paridise Loft, in the Manner that Tucca and Varius were employ'd to criticize the Aneis of Virgil, than to restore corrupted Paffages. Hence, therefore, may be feen either the Iniquity or Ignorance of his Cenfurers, who, from fome Expreffions, 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 Criticifm is plainly to fhew the World, that if Milton did not write as He would have him, he ought to have wrote fo.

I thought

I thought proper to premife this Obfervation to the Readers, as it will fhew that the Critic on Shakespear is of a quite different Kind. His genuine

the most part religioufly adhered to, and the ext is for

numerous

Faults and Blemishes, purely his own, are left as they were found. Nothing is altered, 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, fo ftrictly have I ftrove to give the true Reading, tho' fometimes not to the Advantage of my Author, that I have been ridiculously ridiculed for it by Thofe, who either were iniquitously for turning every thing to my Difadvantage; or elfe were totally ignorant of the true Duty of an Editor.

The Science of Criticism, as far as it affects an Editor, feems to be reduced to thefe three Claffes ; the Emendation of corrupt Paffages; the Explanation of obfcure and difficult ones; and an Inquiry into the Beauties and Defects of Compofition. This Work is principally confined to t tho' there are fome Specimens interfperfed of the latter Kind, as feveral of the Emendations were beft fupported, and feveral of the Difficulties beft explained, by taking Notice of the Beauties and Defects of the Compofition peculiar to this immortal Poet. But this was but occafional, 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 fhall be pleas'd to fee it the Employment of a masterly Pen.

the two former Parts is

It must neceffarily happen, as I have formerly obferved, that where the Affiftance of Manufcripts is wanting to fet an Author's Meaning right, and rescue him from thofe Errors which have been tranfmitted down thro' a Series of incorrect Editions, and a long Intervention of Time, many Paffages muft be defperate, and paft a Cure; and their true Senfe irretrievable either to Care or the Sagacity of Conjecture. But is there any Reason therefore to fay, That because All cannot be retrieved, All ought to be left defperate? We should fhew very little Honefty, or Wisdom, to

play

play the Tyrants with an Author's. Text; to raze, alter, innovate, and overturn, at all Adventures, and to the utter Detriment of his Senfe and Meaning: But to be fo very referved and cautious, as to interpofe no Relief or Conjecture, where it manifeftly labours and cries out for Affiftance, feems, on the other hand, an indolent Abfurdity.

As there are very few Pages in Shakespear, upon which fome Sufpicions of Depravity do not reafonably arife; I have thought it my Duty, in the firft Place, by a diligent and laborious Collation to take in the Affiftances of all the older Copies.

In his Hiftorical Plays, whenever our English Chronicles, and in his Tragedies when Greek or Roman Story, could give any Light; no, Pains have been omitted to fet Paffages right by comparing my Author with his Originals; for, as I have frequently obferved, he was a close and accurate Copier where-ever his Fable was founded on Hiftory.

11

Where-ever the Author's Senfe is clear and difcoverable, (tho', perchance, low and trivial ;) I have not by any Innovation tamper'd with his Text; out of an Oftentation of endeavouring to make him fpeak better than the old Copies have done.

Where, thro' all the former Editions, a Paffage has laboured under flat Nonfenfe and invincible Darkness, if, by the Addition Alteration of a Letter or two, or a Tranfpofition in the Pointing, I have reftored to Him both Senfe and Sentiment; fuch Corrections, I am perfuaded, will need no Indulgence.

arvol

And whenever I have taken a greater Latitude and Liberty in amending, I have conftantly endeavoured to fupport my Corrections and Conjectures, by parallel Paffages and Authorities from himself, the fureft Means of expounding any Author whatsoever. Cette voie d'interpreter un Autheur par luimime eft plus fure que tous les Commentaires, fays a very learned French Critick...

As to my Notes, (from which the common and learned Readers of our Author, I hope, will derive fome Satisfaction;) I have endeavoured to give them a Variety in fome Proportion to their Number. Where-ever I

have ventured at an Emendation, a Note is conftantly fubjoined to justify and affert the Reafon of it. Where

I only offer a Conjecture, and do not disturb the Text, I fairly fet forth my Grounds for fuch Conjecture, and fubmit it to Judgment. Some Remarks are spent in explaining Paffages, where the Wit or Satire depends on an obfcure Point of Hiftory: Others, where Allufions are to Divinity, Philofophy, or other Branches of Science. Some are added to fhew, where there is a Sufpicion of our Author having borrowed from the Ancients: Others, to fhew where he is raillying his Contemporaries; or where He himself is raillied by them. And fome are neceffarily thrown in, to explain an ob fcure and obfolete Term, Phrafe, or Idea. I once intended to have added a complete and copious Gloffary; but as I have been importuned, and am prepared, 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 Gloffary to all Shakespeare's Works more proper to attend that Volume.

In reforming an infinite Number of Paffages in the Pointing, Sense was before quite loft, I have where the frequently fubjoin'd Notes to .fhew the deprav'd, and to prove the reform'd, Pointing: a Part of Labour, in this Work, which I could very willingly have fpar'd myfelf. May it not be objected, why then have you burden'd us with thefe Notes? The Answer is obvious, and, if I mistake not, very material. Without fuch Notes, thefe Paffages in fubfequent Editions would be liable, thro' the Ignorance of Printers and Correctors, to fall into the old Confufion: Whereas, a Note on every one hinders all poffible Return to Depravity; and for ever fecures them in a State of Purity and Integrity not to be loft or forfeited.

Again, as fome Notes have been neceffary to point out the Detection of the corrupted Text, and establish the Restoration of the genuine Readings; fome others have been as neceffary for the Explanation of Paffages obfcure and difficult. To understand the Neceffity and Ufe of this Part of my Talk, fome Particulars of my Author's Character are previously to be explain'd.

There

There are Obfcurities in him, which are common to him with all Poets of the fame Species; 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 fatirical, 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 obferv'd to produce more Humourifts and a greater Variety of original Characters, than any other People whatsoever: 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 themfelves are antiquated and difufed. An editor therefore should he well verfed 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 Thofe together with Quickness and Variety, wherein can be found any Refemblance, or Congruity, to make up pleasant Pictures, and agreeable Visions in the Fancy; the 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 wonderful Affection to appear Learned, They declined vulgar Images, fuch as are immediately fetched from Nature, and ranged through the Circle of the Sciences to fetch their Ideas from thence. But as the Refemblances of fuch Ideas to the Subject muft neceffarily lie very much out of the common Way, and 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 attached to it. The oftentatious Affectation of abftruse Learning, peculiar to that Time, the Love that Men naturally have to every Thing that looks like Myftery, fixed them down to this Habit of Obscurity. Thus became the Poetry of DONNE (though the wittieft Man of that Age) nothing but a continued Heap

every