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 ferious Notice.

The whole a Critic can do for an Author who deferves his Service, is to correct the faulty Text; to remark the Peculiarities of Language; to illustrate the obfcure Allusions; and to explain the Beauties and Defects of Sentiment or Composition. And furely, if ever Author had a Claim to this Service, it was our Shakespeare: Who, widely excelling in the Knowledge of Human Nature, hath given to his infinitely varied Picture of it, such Truth of Design, such 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 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 critical 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 Critic, whose greatest 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 such 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 Success of others, who feemed to have

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 Ufes may be well supplied by what is ocсаfionally said upon the Subject, in the Course of the following Remarks.

II. The fecond Sort of Notes consists 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 Ufe of Words is almost peculiar to the Language of Shakespeare. To common Terms he hath affixed Meanings of his own, unauthorised by Ufe, and not to be juftified by Analogy. And this Liberty he hath taken with the noblest Parts of Speech, fuch as Mixed-modes; which, as they are most fufceptible of Abuse, so their Abuse most hurts the Clearnefs of the Discourse. The Critics (to whom Shakespeare's Licence was still as much a Secret as his Meaning, which that Licence had obscured) fell into two contrary Mistakes; but equally injurious to his Reputation and his Writings. For some of them observing a Darkness, that pervaded his whole Expreffion, have cenfured him for Confusion of Ideas and Inaccuracy of Reasoning. In the Neighing of a Horse, (fays 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 Shakespeare. The Ignorance of which Cenfure is of a piece with its Brutality. The Truth is, no one thought clearer, or argued more closely than this immortal Bard. But his Superiority of Genius less needing the Intervention of Words in the Act of Thinking, when he came to draw out his Contemplations into Discourse, 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

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 Scruple.---Again, there have been others, such as the two last Editors, who have fallen into a contrary Extreme; and regarded Shakespeare'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 shewing the peculiar Sense of the Terms, and explaining the Causes which led the Poet to so perverse an use of them. I had it once, indeed, in my Design, to give a general alphabetic Gloffary of these Terms; but as each of them is explained in its proper Place, there feemed the less Occasion for fuch an Index.

2. The Poet's hard and unnatural Construction had a different Original. This was the Effect of mistaken Art and Design. The public Taste was in its Infancy; and delighted (as it always does during that State) in the high and turgid; which leads the Writer to difguise a vulgar Expression with hard and forced Construction, whereby the Sentence frequently becomes cloudy and dark. Here, his Critics shew their Modefty, and leave him to himself. For the arbitrary Change of a Word doth little towards dispelling an Obscurity that arifeth, not from the licentious Ufe of a single Term, but from the unnatural Arrangement of a whole Sentence. And they risqued nothing by their Silence. For Shakespeare 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 Critic to find it out. Not but, in his best Works, we must allow, he is often so natural and flowing, fo pure and correct, that he is even a Model for Stile and Language.

3. As to his far-fetched and quaint Allufions, these are often a Cover to common Thoughts; just as his hard Construction is to common Expression. When they

are

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 Sort of Notes is concerned in a critical Explanation of the Author's Beauties and Defects; but chiefly of his Beauties, whether in Stile, Thought, Sentiment, Character or Composition. An odd Humour of finding Fault hath long prevailed amongst the Critics; as if nothing were worth remarking that did not, at the same Time, deferve to be reproved. Whereas the public Judgment hath less need to be assisted in what it shall reject, than in what it ought to prize; Men being generally more ready at spying Faults than in difcovering Beauties. Nor is the Value they fet upon a Work, a certain Proof that they understand it. For it is ever feen, that Half a Dozen Voices of Credit give the Lead: And if the Public chance to be in good Humour, or the Author much in their Favour, the People are fure to follow. Hence it is that the true Critic hath so frequently attached himself to Works of established Reputation; not to teach the World to admire, which, in those Circumftances, to say the Truth, they are apt enough to do of themselves; but to teach them how, with Reason to admire: No easy Matter, I will affure you, on the Subject in Question: For tho' it be very true, as Mr. Pope hath obierved, that Shakespear is the fairest and fullest Subject for Criticism, yet it is not fuch a Sort of Criticism as may be raised mechanically on the Rules which Dacier, Rapin and Boffu, have collected from Antiquity; and of which, fuch kind of Writers as Rymer, Gildon, Dennis and Oldmixon, have only gathered and chewed the Husks: Nor on the other Hand is it to be formed on the Plan of those crude and fuperficial Judgments, on Books and Things, with which a certain celebrated Paper so much abounds; too good indeed to be named with the Writers last mentioned, but being unluckily mistaken for a Model, because it was an Original, it hath given rise to a Deluge of the worst Sort of critical Jargon; I mean that which looks most like Senfe. Senfe. But the Kind of Criticism here required is such as judgeth our Author by those only Laws and Principles on which he wrote NATURE and COMMONSENSE.

Our Obfervations, therefore, being thus extensive, will, I prefume, enable the Reader to form a right Judgment of this favourite Poet, without drawing out his Character, as was once intended, in a continued Difcourse.

These, such as they are, were amongst my younger Amusements, when many Years ago, I used to turn over these Sort of Writers to unbend myself from more ferious Applications: And what, certainly, the Public, at this Time of Day, had never been troubled with, but for the Conduct of the two last Editors, and the Perfuafions of dear Mr. POPE; whose Memory and Name,

-femper acerbum,

Semper honoratum (fic Dî voluistis) habebo.

He was defirous I should give a new Edition of this Poet, as he thought it might contribute to put a Stop to a prevailing Folly of altering the Text of celebrated Authors without Talents or Judgment. And he was willing that his Edition should be melted down into mine, as it would, he said, afford him (fo great is the Modesty of an ingenuous Temper) a fit Opportunity of confeffing his Mistakes*. In Memory of our Friendship, I have therefore, made it our joint Edition. His admirable Preface is here added; all his Notes are given, with his Name annexed; the Scenes are divided according to his Regulation; and the most beautiful Passages diftinguished, as in his Book, with inverted Commas. In Imitation of him, I have done the fame by as many others as I thought most deserving of the Reader's Attention, and have marked them with double Commas.