|
|
|||
![]()
|
William Warburton
William Warburton was born the son of a Newark attorney. In 1723 he took orders in the Church of England. He was awarded the M. A. degree by Cambridge in 1728, and was subsequently curate, vicar, King's Chaplain, Lincoln's Inn Preacher, Prebendary, Dean and Bishop of Gloucester. He had an intense interest in both theology and Shakespeare. Warburton’s most famous independent work was published in 1737: The Divine Legation of Moses Demonstrated. Of it the DNB says “Warburton’s dogmatic arrogance and love of paradox were sufficiently startling, while his wide reading enabled him to fill his pages with a great variety of curious disquisitions; and his rough vigour made even his absurdities interesting” (DNB, p. 760). Most readers today would probably regard it as just one more of the dreary English Enlightenment disputations over religion. In fact Warburton carried on vigorous attacks against many of the literati who sailed within his religious or literary purview, at times in a spirit so uncharitable that only an English clergyman could achieve it. In one passage he says he was obliged to hunt down the “pestilent herd of libertine scribblers with which the island is overrun” (DNB, p. 761, yes, there will always be an England). He made an enemy of nearly every literary man he had to do with. Though he began by maligning Pope, in the end he became Pope’s literary executor and champion. Early Warburton formed an alliance with Lewis Theobald—Pope's nemesis and editor of his own 1733 edition of Shakespeare. There is a voluminous correspondence between the two, recorded in John Nichols' Illustrations of the literary history of the eighteenth century. : Consisting of authentic memoirs and original letters of eminent persons; and intended as a sequel to the Literary anecdotes, vol. II. 1817. Theobald relied heavily on Warburton's insights into the texts of Shakespeare, and even more so on his taste as an experienced author. Theobald's Preface is much better for the suggestions made by Warburton. As seems inevitable among the close world of eighteenth century Shakespeare scholars, Warburton quarreled with Theobald, feeling his contributions to Theobald's 1733 edition were not sufficiently acknowledged (and indeed, though Theobald included a handsome prefatory acknowledgement, he did not acknowledge Warburton's contributions in the detailed notes). They became estranged. In reaction, Warburton formed a close alliance with Pope, Theobald's arch enemy and editor of the 1725 edition of the Works that Theobald had taken to task in Shakespeare Restored.... (1726). It was a move that made his reputation and his fortune. In 1747 Warburton brought out his own edition of Shakespeare (Murphy §231). He is known to have been working on the edition from 1738, when he prepared sample materials which appeared in the General Dictionary, Historical and Critical (1734-1741) edited, in part, by Dr. Thomas Birch. As can be seen from Warburton's Preface, given below, his attack on the then deceased Theobald was petty, if not cruel. Popes name appears on the title page of Warburton's edition, perhaps not without spite towards the memory of Theobald. Warburton's edition is not thought highly of. "His changes to the text were legion and he frequently emended passages which were, in the original, perfectly intelligible" (Murphy, Shakespeare in Print, p. 77). Of his edition of Shakespeare the DNB, after a summary of his contentions with Hanmer and Theobald, says “It is now admitted that…Theobald was incomparably superior to Warburton as a Shakespearean critic. Though a few of Warburton’s emendations have been accepted, they are generally marked by both audacious and gratuitous quibbling, and show his real incapacity for the task” (p. 763). Just as Pope had been called to account by Theobald in 1726, Warburton received less generous criticism (though presented sardonically as praise) in Thomas Edwards' (1699-1757) The Canons of Criticism: A Supplement to Mr. Warburton's Edition... (7th ed., 1765—(see Johnson, Shakespeare and His Critics, 1909, for a long summary). Warburton responded “by insulting Edwards in notes to Pope’s Works and saying that he was not a gentleman” (DNB, p. 763). He was also criticized soundly by John Upton in Critical Observations on Shakespeare (2nd ed. 1748), and Benjamin Heath in A Revisal of Shakespeare's Text (1765). In 1750 Warburton returned to “theological inquiries," though remained within literary striking range of his critics. He was even so bold as to criticize Dr. Johnson, who regarded Warburton with far more esteem than he deserved, complaining of Johnson's “insolence, malignity, and folly.” (DNB 763) (!). Warburton was indeed a man out of his depth, but supremely unaware of the fact, a poor scholar, sometimes monstrously hypocritical, yet an avid antagonist. "The Editors of Shakespeare," by J. Parker Norris, from Shakespeariana, Vol. II, 1885, pp. 577-582. WILLIAM WARBURTON. William Warburton was born December 24th, 1698, at Newark-upon-Trent, Nottingham, England. His father was George Warburton, an attorney, and also Town Clerk. He was educated by several teachers. His father intended that he should read law, and he commenced the study of that profession, under an attorney named Kirke, at East Markham, Nottinghamshire. He remained with him for five years, and was then called to the bar, in one of the courts at Westminster. Afterward he returned to Newark, where he entered upon the practice of his profession. He practiced for several years, but his love of reading, and dislike for the bar, determined him to enter the church. Accordingly in 1723 he took deacon's orders. The same year he published his Miscellaneous Translations in Prose and Verse from Roman Authors. This work he dedicated to Sir Robert Sutton; who, in 1726, presented him to the vicarage of Gryesly, in Nottingham. In 1726 also, he came to London, and made the acquaintance of a number of literary men; among whom was Lewis Theobald. This was the beginning of a friendship which lasted several years. They kept up a long correspondence about the text of Shakespeare and other kindred subjects, in which they were mutually interested, and Warburton rendered Theobald much valuable assistance in the preparation of his edition of Shakespeare. Theobald gracefully acknowledged this assistance in his preface to that work. In 1727 Warburton published A Critical and Philosophical Enquiry into the Causes of Prodigies and Miracles as related by Historians, etc. This work he also dedicated to Sir Robert Sutton, who appears to have been a good friend, for he used his influence to have Warburton put on the lists of King's Masters of Arts created when George II visited Cambridge in 1728, and thus he got his degree. The same year Sir Robert presented him to the rectory of Brand-Broughton, in the diocese of Lincoln. Here he remained many years, and devoted his time largely to literary studies. In 1736 he published The Alliance between the Church and State, etc., a work which attracted much attention at the time. In 1783 the first part of his principal theological work appeared, The Divine Legation of Moses, etc., which met with some adverse criticism. He defended it in A Vindication, etc., and in 1741 the second part was published. Pope's Essay on Man had meanwhile been published, and had been severely criticised. Warburton appeared in its defence, and in 1739– 40 published A Vindication of Mr. Pope's Essay on Man. This led to a friendship between Pope and Warburton, and when the former died, in 1744, he left Warburton half of his library, and his interest in those works which he still possessed any copyright. Dr. Johnson estimated this legacy to have been worth £400. In 1744 and 1745 he published answers to the attacks which had been made on his Divine Legation under the name of Occasional Reflections, etc., and in 1745 he married Miss Gertrude Tucker; by the the death of whose uncle, Ralph Allen, Esq., of Prior Park, near Bath, he became possessed (through his wife,) of much valuable property. In 1738 he had been appointed Chaplain to the Prince of Wales, and in 1744 he was presented to a prebend in the Cathedral of Durham; while in 1747 he was made Dean of Bristol. In 1760 Mr. Pitt (afterward Earl of Chatham,) promoted him to the see of Gloucester, and he is best known to posterity as the Bishop of Gloucester. His mind failed somewhat in his later years, and he died June 7th, 1779, at Gloucester, in his eighty-first year. His edition of Shakespeare was published in 1747, in eight volumes small octavo. The first title page in Vol. I reads thus :
There is also a second title-page which is as follows : "The Works of Shakespear: Volume the first." etc. Similar ones to the latter are in the other volumes.
The work is tolerably well
printed on fairly good paper, and in the first volume
there is a copy of the Chandos portrait of Shakespeare,
engraved by G. Vertue. The work is dedicated to Mrs.
Allen, of Prior Park, near Bath. Then comes the preface,
occupying twelve pages. Pope's preface follows, then
Rowe's life of Shakespeare, the grant of arms to
Shakespeare's father, and Ben. Jonson's ode to the poet. As a speciman of Warburton's taste the above list is very interesting. Few persons at the present time would agree with him.. Of the last class of "Comedies and "Tragedies" he remarks they "are certainly not of Shakespear. The most that can be said of them is, that he has, here and there, corrected the dialogue, and now and then added a Scene." Regarding The Two Noble Kinsmen he says "the whole first Act . . . was wrote by Shakespear, but in his worst manner." In his preface Warburton tells us "The whole a Critic can do for an Author who deserves his Service, is to correct the faulty Text ; to remark the Peculiarities of Language ; to illustrate the obscure Allusions; and to explain the Beauties and Defects of Sentiment or Composition." He then explains the character of the notes, which he divides into three classes: first, those which concern the restoration of the text; second, those which explain the poet's meaning, when Warburton conceived it to be obscure "either from a licentious Use of Terms; or a hard or ungrammatical Construction; or lastly from farfetch'd or quaint Allusions;" and third, those which explain Shakespeare's beauties and defects. Warburton then continues :
The faults of Warburton's notes are many, and foremost among them is a spirit of dogmatic assertion and condescension towards his author. He often asserts in the most positive manner that Shakespeare wrote so and so, and he deliberately changes the text to suit his own ideas without the slightest authority. He frequently altered passages which he did not understand, and in others he proposed emendations without any apparent reason except novelty. In Romeo and Juliet, IV, ii, 31, Capulet says of Friar Laurence:
Here Warburton has the following note: "For the sake of the grammar, I would suspect Shakespear wrote,
i. e. praise, celebrate." Can this be surpassed? The learned editor is not joking either, for the emendation is proposed in all seriousness. In others of his notes he takes the poet to task for certain passages that he does not like. One he calls "monstrous," of another he says: "nothing can be worse, or more obscurely expressed; and all for the sake of a wretched rhyme." An image he calls "ridiculous," and another passage is "badly expressed." Warburton's arrogance is apparent in many of his notes, and he evidently considered himself superior to Shakespeare, whose text he did not hesitate to alter whenever it did not suit him. Thus in As You Like It, III, iv, 14, where Rosalind says of Orlando's kissing,
which certainly refers to the sacrament of the Church, Warburton alters this to "holy beard," and says: "We should read beard, that is, as the kiss of an holy saint or hermit, called the kiss of charity. This makes the comparison just and decent; the other impious and absurd." And yet "the other" is beyond all doubt what Shakespeare wrote. Of course there are some good things in Warburton's notes, and his text is better than Pope's, owing to his having retained many of Theobald's best readings. It is more than doubtful if he collated the folios and quartos himself. He appears to have used Theobald's edition to print from, and thus had the benefit of the best text that had then appeared. Although there had been a long and friendly correspondence between Warburton and Theobald, (which it will be remembered the latter, in his preface, said had been of the greatest assistance to him in the preparation of his edition of Shakespeare,) there appears to have been some bitter quarrel between these quondam friends. Warburton savagely attacks both Theobald and Hanmer in his preface. He says:
Warburton's arrogance, and his unnecessary changes of the poet's text provoked much criticism, and several writers exposed his blunders. Foremost among these was John Upton's second edition of his Critical Observations on Shakespeare London: 1748, wherein he exposed many absurd mistakes that Warburton had made. Next Thomas Edwards published A Supplement to Mr. Warburton's Edition of Shakespeare, London: 1747. This was a bitter satire on Warburton's work, and met with great success, for no less than seven editions of it were issued, the third of which bore the title of The Canons of Criticism. The latter title was also used in all the subsequent editions. The criticisms in this work are very severe, yet they were deserved. Then came Dr. Zachary Grey, with his Critical, Historical, and Explanatory Notes on Shakespeare, London : 1754, whose criticisms of Warburton's failure as an editor are very just. Benjamin Heath followed, in a volume entitled A Revisal of Shakespeare's Text, London : 1865, and contributed his quota of very severe comments on Warburton's blunders. Dr. Johnson thus alludes to Warburton :
Certainly Dr. Johnson was mild in his censure, but perhaps the high station of Bishop Warburton helped to moderate that which otherwise might have been somewhat stronger. The poems were not included in the edition. Warburton received £460 from the booksellers for his editorial labors, which was certainly good payment for what he did. The same year that the original edition of Warburton appeared, 1747, another was published in Dublin, in eight volumes duodecimo. It is a mere reprint of the former. J. Parker Norris
Warburton's Preface It hath been no unusual thing for writers, when
dissatisfied with the patronage or judgment of their
own times, to appeal to posterity for a fair
hearing. Some have even thought fit to apply to it
in the first instance, and to decline acquaintance
with the public till envy and prejudice had quite
subsided. But, of all the trusters to futurity,
commend me to the author of the following poems, who
not only left it to time to do him justice 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 escaped the common fate of those
writings, how good soever, which are abandoned to
their own fortune, and unprotected by party or
cabal. At length, indeed, they struggled into light,
but so disguised and travestied that no classic
author, after having run ten secular stages through
the blind cloisters of monks and canons, ever came
out in half so maimed and mangled a condition. But
for a full account of his disorders, I refer the
reader to the excellent discourse which follows,'
and turn myself to consider 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
booksellers ; who, to say the truth, had at first
but small encouragement for putting them into a
better condition. The stubborn nonsense with which
he was incrusted occasioned his lying long neglected
amongst the common lumber of the stage. And when
that resistless splendour which now shoots all
around him had, by degrees, broke through the shell
of those impurities, his dazzled admirers became as
suddenly insensible to the extraneous scurf that
still stuck upon him as they had been before to the
native beauties that lay under it. So that, as then
he was thought not to deserve a cure, he was now
supposed not to need any. His growing eminence,
however, required that he should be used with
ceremony, and he soon had his appointment of an
editor in form. But the bookseller, whose dealing
was with wits, having learned of them I know not
what silly maxim, that none but a poet should
presume to meddle with a poet, engaged the ingenious
Mr. Rowe to undertake this employment. A wit indeed
he was, but so utterly unacquainted with the whole
business of criticism that he did not even collate
or consult the first editions of the work he
undertook to publish, but contented himself with
giving us a meagre account of the author's life,
interlarded with some commonplace scraps from his
writings. The truth is, Shakespeare's condition was
yet but ill understood. The nonsense, now, by
consent, conceived 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
showing us that the higher we went, the less of it
was still to be found. or the proprietors, not
discouraged by their first unsuccessful effort, in
due time made a second ; and, though they still
stuck to their poets, with infinitely more success
in their choice of Mr. Pope, who, by the mere force
of an uncommon genius, without any particular study
or profession of this art, discharged the great
parts of it so well as to make his edition the best
foundation for all further improvements. He
separated the genuine from the spurious plays ; and
with equal judgment, though not always with the same
success, attempted to clear the genuine plays from
the interpolated scenes. He then consulted the old
editions, and, by a careful collation of them,
rectified the faulty, and supplied 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 poetic character,
and, in the corrected text, marked out those
peculiar strokes of genius which were most proper to
support and illustrate that character. Thus far Mr.
Pope. And although much more was to be done before
Shakespeare could be restored to himself (such as
amending the corrupted text where the printed books
afford no assistance, explaining his licentious
phraseology and obscure allusions, and illustrating
the beauties of his poetry), yet, with great modesty
and prudence, our illustrious author left this to
the critick by profession. 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
since made by Mr. Theobald and Sir Thomas Hanmer in
opposition 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 second, or venturing even to touch
upon the third), yet succeeded so 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 some accidental connections with
these 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 critic, and to each of them, at different
times, I communicated a great number of observations
which they managed, as they saw fit, to the relief
of their several distresses. 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
sequestering another for the benefit, as I supposed,
of some 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 desire
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 to 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 risquing to every observer the
imputation of wanting a better talent. By a
punctilious collation of the old books he corrected
what was manifestly wrong in the latter editions by
what was manifestly right in the earlier. And this
is his real merit, and the whole of it. For where
the phrase was very obsolete or licentious in the
common books, or only slightly corrupted in the
other, he wanted sufficient knowledge of the
progress and various stages 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 see, or
critical sagacity to amend, what was manifestly
faulty. Hence he generally exerts his conjectural
talent in the wrong place ; he tampers with what is
found in the common books, and, in the old ones,
omits all notice of variations, the sense of which
he did not understand.. How the Oxford editor came
to think himself qualified for this office, from
which his whole course of life had been so remote,
is still more difficult to conceive. For whatever
parts he might have either of genius or erudition,
he was absolutely ignorant of the art of criticism,
as well as of the poetry of that time, and the
language of his author. And so far from the 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
lost the advantage of many fine lines, which the
other had recovered from the old quartos. Where he
trusts to his own sagacity, in what affects the
sense, his conjectures are generally absurd and
extravagant, and violating every rule of criticism.
Though, in this rage of correcting, he was not
absolutely destitute 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 similar
he made them his own and so became a critick at a
cheap expense. But how well he hath succeeded 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 bath done,
who was less cautious. But his principal object was
to reform his author's numbers, and this, which he
hath done on every occasion, by the insertion or
omission 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 distinguishes 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 syllables. For the rest, all
the corrections which these two editors have made on
any reasonable foundation are here ad-mitted into
the text and carefully assigned to their respective
authors, a piece of justice which the Oxford editor
never did, and which the other was not always
scrupulous in observing towards me. To conclude
width them in a word, they separately possessed
those two qualities which, more than any other, have
contributed to bring the art of criticism into
disrepute—dulness of apprehension, 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 title of Essays,
Remarks, Observations, etc., on Shakespeare (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 deserves his
service is to correct the faulty text, to remark the
peculiarities of language, to illustrate the obscure
allusions, and to explain the beauties and defects
of sentiment or composition. And surely, 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
pictures of it, such 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 criticism. I. The first sort is
employed in restoring the poet's genuine text, but
in those places only where it labours with
inextricable nonsense ; in which, how much soever 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
from 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 occasioned by the fanciful
extravagances 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 arise 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
consequently a better opinion of the art of
criticism, now sunk 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 seemed to have lost
both when they come 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
occasionally said upon the subject in the course of
the following remarks. II. The second sort of
notes consists in an explanation of the author's
meaning when by one or more of these causes it
becomes obscure: either from a licentious use of
terms, or a hard or ungrammatical construction, or
lastly, from far-fetched or quaint allusions. 1.
This licentious use of words is almost peculiar to
the language of Shakespeare. To common terms he hath
affixed meanings of his own, unauthorised by use,
and not to be justified by analogy. And this liberty
he bath taken with the noblest parts of speech, such
as mixed modes, which, as they are most susceptible
of abuse, so that abuse much hurts the clearness of
the discourse. The criticks (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 pervades his whole
expression, have censured him for confusion 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, I may say, more humanity than many times in the
tragical flights of Shakespeare." 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
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 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 cases 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 alphabetic glossary of
those terms ; but as each of them is explained in
its proper place, there seems the less occasion 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 this state) in the high and turgid; which
leads the writer to disguise a vulgar expression
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 obscurity that ariseth,
not from the licentious use 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
anyone 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 expression. 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 sort 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 were worth remarking that did not at the
same time deserve to be reproved. Whereas the
publick 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 discovering beauties. Nor is the value they set
upon a work a certain proof that they understand it.
For it is ever seen that half a dozen voices of
credit give the lead, and if the publick chance to
be in good humour, or the author much in their
favour, the people are sure to follow. Hence it is
that the true critick hath so frequently attached
himself to works of established reputation: not to
teach the world to admire, which, in those
circumstances, 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 assure you,
on the subject in question, for though it be very
true, as Mr. Pope hath observed, that Shakespeare is
the fairest and fullest subject for criticism, yet
it is not such a sort of criticism as may be raised
mechanically on the rules which Dacier, Rapin, and
Bossu have collected from antiquity, and of which
such 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 superficial judgments on
books and things with which a certain celebrated
paper so much abounds ;3 too good, indeed, to be
named R ith 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 sense. But the kind of criticism
here re¬quired is such as judgeth our author by
those only Taws and principles on which he wrote,
nature and common-sense. Our observations,
therefore, being thus extensive, will, I presume,
enable the reader to form a right judgment of this
favourite poet without drawing out his character, as
was once intended, in a continued discourse.
These, such as they are, were among my younger
amusements when, many years ago, I used to turn over
these sort of writers to unbend myself from more
serious applications ; and what certainly the
publick at this time of day had never been troubled
with, but for the conduct of the two last editors,
and the persuasion of dear Mr. Pope, whose memory
and name, “...semper acerbum, He was desirous 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 (so
great is the modesty of an ingenuous temper) a fit
opportunity of confessing 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 distinguished, as in his
book, with inverted commas. In imitation of him, I
have done the same by as many others as I thought
most deserving of the reader's attention, and have
marked them with double commas.If, from all this,
Shakespeare or good letters have received any
advantage, and the publick any benefit or
entertainment, the thanks are due to the
proprietors, who have been at the expence of
procuring this edition. And I should be unjust to
several deserving men of a reputable and useful
profession if I did not, on this occasion,
acknowledge the fair dealing I have always found
amongst them, and profess my sense of the unjust
prejudice which lies against them ; whereby they
have been hitherto unable to procure that security
for their property which they see the rest of their
fellow-citizens enjoy ; a prejudice in part arising
from the frequent piracies (as they are called)
committed by members of their own body. But such
kind of members no body is without. And it would be
hard that this should be turned to the discredit of
the honest part of the profession, who suffer more
from such injuries than any other men. It hath in
part, too, arisen from the clam-ours of profligate
scribblers, ever ready for a piece of money, to
prostitute their bad sense for or against any cause,
profane or sacred, or in any scandal, publick or
private; these meeting with little encouragement
from men of account in the trade (who, even in this
enlightened age, are not the very worst judges or
rewarders of merit), apply themselves to people of
condition, and support their importunities by false
complaints against booksellers. Rut I should now,
perhaps, rather think of my own apology than busy
myself in the defence of others. I shall have some
Tartuffe ready on the first appearance of this
edition to call out again and tell me that I suffer
myself to be wholly diverted from my purpose by
these matters less suitable to my clerical
profession. " Well, but (says a friend) why not take
so candid an intimation in good part? Withdraw
yourself again, as you are bid, into the clerical
pale ; examine the records of sacred and profane
antiquity, and on them erect a work to the confusion
of infidelity." Why, I have done all this, and more
; and hear now what the same men have said to it.
They tell me, I have wrote to the wrong and injury
of religion, and furnished out more handles for
unbelievers. " Oh! now the secret is out ; and you
may have your pardon, I find, upon easier terms. It
is only to write no more." Good gentlemen! and shall
I not oblige them? They would gladly obstruct my way
to those things which every man who endeavours well
in his profession, must needs think he has some
claim to when he sees them given to those who never
did endeavour, at the same time that they would
deter me from taking those advantages which letters
enable me to procure for myself. If then I am to
write no more (though as much out of my profession
as they may please to represent this work, I suspect
their modesty would not insist on a scrutiny of our
several applications of this profane profit and
their purer gains), if, I say, I am to write no
more, let me at least give the pub-lick, who have a
better pretence to demand it of me, some reason for
my presenting them with these amusements ; which, if
I am not much mistaken, may be excused by the best
and fairest examples ; and, what is more, may be
justified on the surer reason of things. The great
Saint Chrysostom, a name consecrated to immortality
by his virtue and eloquence, is known to have been
so fond of Aristophanes as to wake with him at his
studies, and to sleep with him under his pillow ;
and I never heard that this was objected either to
his piety or his preaching, not even in those times
of pure zeal and primitive religion. Yet, in respect
of Shakespeare's great sense, Aristophanes' best wit
is but buffoonery; and in comparison of
Aristophanes' freedoms, Shakespeare writes with the
purity of a vestal. But they will say, St.
Chrysostom contracted a fondness for the comick poet
for the sake of his Greek. To this, indeed, I have
nothing to reply. Far be it from me to insinuate so
unscholar-like a thing, as if we had the same use
for good English that a Greek had for his Attick
elegance. Critick Kuster, in a taste and language
peculiar to grammarians of a certain order, hath
decreed that the history and chronology of Greek
words is the most solid entertainment of a man of
letters. I fly then to a higher example, much
nearer home, and still more in point, the famous
university of Oxford. This illustrious body, which
bath long so justly held, and with such equity
dispensed the chief honours of the learned world,
thought good letters so much interested in correct
editions of the best English writers, that they very
lately in their publick capacity undertook one of
this very author by subscription. And if the editor
4 hath not discharged his task with suitable
abilities for one so much honoured by them, this was
not their fault, but his, who thrust himself into
the employment. After such an example, it would be
weakening any defence to seek further for
authorities. All that can be now decently urged is
the reason of the thing ; and this I shall do, more
for the sake of that truly venerable body than my
own. Of all the literary exercitations of
speculative men, whether designed for the use or
entertainment of the world, there are none of so
much importance or what are more our immediate
concern than those which let us into the knowledge
of our nature. Others may exercise the reason, or
amuse the imagination, but these only can improve
the heart and form the human mind to wisdom. Now, in
this science, our Shakespeare is confessed to occupy
the foremost place, whether we consider the amazing
sagacity with which he investigates every hidden
spring and wheel of human action, or his happy
manner of communicating this knowledge, in the just
and living paintings which he has given us of all
our passions, appetites and pursuits. These afford a
lesson which can never be too often repeated, or too
constantly inculcated, and to engage the reader's
due attention to it bath been one of the principal
objects of this edition. As this science (whatever
profound philosophers may think) is, to the rest, in
things ; so, in words (whatever supercilious pedants
may talk), every one's mother tongue is to all other
languages. This hath still been the sentiment of
nature and true wisdom. Hence, the greatest men of
antiquity never thought themselves better employed
than in cultivating their own country idiom. So,
Lycurgus did honour to Sparta in giving the first
complete edition of Homer ; and Cicero to Rome, in
correcting the works of Lucretius. Nor do we want
examples of the same good sense in modern times,
even amidst the cruel inroads that art and fashion
have made upon nature and the simplicity of wisdom.
Menage, the greatest name in France for all kinds of
philologick learning, prided himself in writing
critical notes on their best lyrick poet, Malherbe ;
and our greater Selden, when he thought it might
reflect credit on his country, did not disdain even
to comment a very ordinary poet, one Michael
Drayton. But the English tongue, at this juncture,
deserves and demands our particular regard. It hath,
by means of the many excellent works of different
kinds composed in it, engaged the notice and became
the study of almost every curious and learned
foreigner, so as to be thought even a part of
literary accomplishment. This must needs make it
deserving of a critical attention ; and its being
yet destitute of a test or standard to apply to in
cases of doubt or difficulty, shows how much it
wants that attention. For we have neither Grammar
nor Dictionary, neither chart nor compass, to guide
us through this wide sea of words. And indeed, how
should we? since both are to be composed and
finished on the authority of our best established
writers. But their authority can be of little use
till the text bath been correctly settled, and the
phraseology critically examined. As, then, by these
aids, a Gram-mar and Dictionary planned upon the
best rules of logick and philosophy (and none but
such will deserve the name) are to be procured, the
forwarding of this will be a general concern; for,
as Quintillian observes, "Verborum proprietas ac
differentia omnibus, qui sermonem currae habent,
debet esse communis." By this way, the Italians have
brought their tongue to a degree of purity and
stability which no living language ever attained
unto before. It is with pleasure I observe that
these things now begin to be understood among
ourselves, and that I can acquaint the publick we
may soon expect very elegant editions of Fletcher
and Milton's "Paradise Lost," from gentlemen of
distinguished abilities and learning. But this
interval of good sense, as it may be short, is
indeed but new. For I remember to have heard of a
very learned man who, not long since, formed a
design of giving a more correct edition of Spenser,
and, without doubt, would have performed it well ;
but he was dissuaded from his purpose by his
friends, as beneath the dignity of a professor of
the occult sciences. Yet these very friends, I
suppose, would have thought it added lustre to his
high station to have new-furnished out some dull
northern chronicle, or dark Sibylline aenigma. But
let it not be thought that what is here said
insinuates anything to the discredit of Greek and
Latin criticism. If the follies of particular men
were sufficient to bring any branch of learning into
disrepute, I do not know any that would stand in a
worse situation than that for which I now apologise.
For I hardly think there ever appeared, in any
learned language, so execrable a heap of nonsense,
under the name of commentaries, as hath been lately
given us on a certain satyrick poet, of the past
age, by his editor and coadjutor. I am sensible
how unjustly the very best classical criticks have
been treated. It is said that our great philosopher
s spoke with much contempt of the two finest
scholars of this age, Dr. Bentley and Bishop Hare,
for squabbling, as he expressed it, about an old
play-book ; meaning, I suppose, Terence's comedies.
But this story is unworthy of him, though well
enough suiting the fanatick turn of the wild writer
that relates it. Such censures are amongst the
follies of men immoderately given over to one
science, and ignorantly undervaluing all the rest.
Those learned criticks might, and perhaps did, laugh
in their turn (though still, sure, with the same
indecency and indiscretion) at that incomparable
man, for wearing out a long life in poring through a
telescope. Indeed, the weaknesses of such are to be
mentioned with reverence. But who can bear, without
indignation, the fashionable cant of every trifling
writer, whose insipidity passes, with himself, for
politeness, for pretending to be shocked, forsooth,
with the rude and savage air of vulgar criticks ;
meaning such as Muretus, Scaliger, Casaubon,
Salmasius, Spanheim, Bentley ! When, had it not been
for the deathless labours of such as these, the
western world, at the revival of letters, had soon
fallen back again into a state of ignorance and
barbarity as deplorable as that from which
Providence had just redeemed it. To conclude with
an observation of a fine writer and great
philosopher of our own, which I would gladly bind,
though with all honour, as a phylactery, on the brow
of every awful grammarian, to teach him at once the
use and limits of his art: Words are the money of
fools, and the counters of wise men. Links to Warburton's Edition of 1747
|
|
|
|