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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Shakespearean WLnt&
i

SHAKESPEARE AS A DRAMATIC ARTIST

Already Published

SHAKESPEARE AND VOLTAIRE

Already Published

III
THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

THE TEXT

SHAKESPEARE

ITS HISTORY FROM 1 ATION OF THE

QUARTOS AND FC ST TO AND

INCLUDING THE Tf>, .TON OF

THE EDITIONS OF POPE

AND THEOBALD

THOMAS RfCoUNSBURY, L.H.D., LL.D.,

Professor of English in Yale University

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

1906

**\-t

By Charles Scribnek's Sons

Published September, iqott

307/

THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.

CONTENTS

Chapteb Pagb

I. The Dramatic Situation in Shakespeare's Time 1

II. Attitude towards Plays of the Playwrights 26

III. Differences of the Early Texts 50

IV. The Earliest Editions of Shakespeare ... G7
V. Pope's Edition of Shakespeare ...... 77

VI. Pope's Treatment of the Text 99

VII. The Early Career of Theobald 121

VIII. Theobald's Dramatic Ventures 139

IX. Shakespeare Restored 155

' X. Theobald's Attitude towards Pope .... 176

XL Pope's Preliminary Attack 198

XII. The Original 'Dunciad' 225

XIII. 'The Dunciad' of 1729 241

XIV. Errors about * The Dunciad' 258

XV. Shakespeare Controversy of 1728 295

XVI. Arrangements for Theobald's Edition . . . 322

XVII. Warburton's Attack on Pope 346

XVIII. The Allies of Pope 363

XIX. The Grub-Street Journal 384

XX. The Attack on Verbal Criticism 408

XXI. Theobald's Edition and its Reception . . . 438

XXII. The Spread of Pope's Influence 460

XXIII. Difficulties in Theobald's Way 489

XXIV. Defects of Theobald's Edition 514

XXV. Theobald's Later Reputation 534

IKPBX . 569

PREFACE

The two previous volumes of this series have been
given up to the consideration of the controversies which
deal with Shakespeare as a dramatic artist. The ground
covered had, to some extent at least, been already gone
over by several. It is a theme indeed upon which
many profess to have what they are pleased to call a
general knowledge. But both experience and observa-
tion show that the profession of general knowledge is
usually coincident with the possession of specific igno-
rance; and there may be occasion later to exemplify
the confusion which is sure to arise when limited infor-
mation on this subject unites with unlimited assumption
to draw inferences and deduce conclusions. But what-
ever may be true of the controversy in regard to Shake-
speare as a dramatic artist, about most of the matter
contained in the present volume there is no general
knowledge; at least what there is going under that
name is usually based upon misapprehension where it
is not itself positively erroneous.

The settlement of the text of Shakespeare, so far as
It can be called settled, has been the work of successive
generations of scholars. It was transmitted to later
times in a state more or less imperfect. To restore it

vii

PREFACE

to its presumed primitive integrity engaged from an
early period the attention of a constantly increasing
number of men interested in the writings of the great
dramatist. The result of their labors, as we find it
to-day, has been reached gradually. The establishment
of the right reading was at the outset attended in numer-
ous instances with difficulties of which we at the present
time hardly dream. It was not merely that the knowl-
edge of words, or of meanings once belonging to words,
had been lost. It was not merely that much of the
grammar of the Elizabethan period was no longer under-
stood. There was almost complete ignorance of the
methods which needed to be employed to rescue the text
from the corruption into which it had been plunged by
the ignorance of type-setters, the indifference of proof-
readers, and the incompetence of editors.

By the dawn of the nineteenth century the authorita-
tive consideration of the text of Shakespeare and of the
proper manner of treating it had passed into the hands
of specialists. There it has since remained. But this
was not so in the beginning. Nothing is more noticeable
in the history of the original efforts directed towards
the rectification of the readings than the extent to which
the task was undertaken by men of letters as distin-
guished from scholars. Especially was this true of a
good part of the eighteenth century. There was then
a disposition to look upon the position of the specialist
as ridiculous and his action as an impertinence. It is
the participation in the work of revision of authors of
all grades of eminence that gives a peculiar character

viii

PREFACE

to the earlier controversies which sprang up. It makes
the discussion of the text of Shakespeare to some extent
a part of the literary history of the eighteenth century,
as it lias never been that of any period since.

No one needs to be told that the establishment of the
text has been attended throughout with controversies.
These have occasionally been long and have often been
bitter. Deplorable as has been the ill-feeling sometimes
engendered, great as has been the injustice sometimes
wrought, none the less is it true that through the agency
of these wordy Avars the knowledge of the whole subject
has been perceptibly advanced. Never has this observa-
tion been more true than of the first, the most protracted
and the most important of them all. This is the alter-
cation that went on between Pope and Theobald. It
was the differences between these rival editors that
opened the era of controversy which has continued with
little cessation to our own day.

Accordingly the subject of the present volume, taken
up as it is with the history of this controversy, begins,
strictly speaking, with the fifth chapter. Whatever
value the work possesses must be determined by that
which follows after. What appears previously is de-
signed to set forth the causes existing in the dramatic
situation of the Elizabethan age which rendered con-
troversy about the text of Shakespeare not merely pos-
sible but practically inevitable. These introductory
chapters have in consequence been made as brief as
could be done, consistently with giving the reader any
proper compreliensioj] of the matters upon which they

PREFA CE

touch; for while the facts contained in them are of
first importance in serving to explain why it was that
the plays of Shakespeare came down in the corrupt
condition they did, they are of subsidiary importance
in the discussion of that which constitutes the main sub-
ject of the present treatise.

In setting out to give an account of this controversy
a problem of peculiar difficulty presented itself. How
happened it that the one man whose extensive learning
and exceptional acumen have done more — if the cir-
cumstances are taken into consideration — towards rec-
tifying the text of Shakespeare than has been effected
by any single editor since, should nevertheless have
gained the reputation of being extraordinarily dull?
The superiority of the work Theobald accomplished
was acknowledged willingly or grudgingly — in general
grudgingly — by his contemporaries and immediate
successors. He set forth both by example and precept
the proper methods by which the original could be re-
stored. He brought clearness to places to all appear-
ances hopelessly obscure. He made emendations to the
text which became at once so integral a part of it that
none but special students are now aware that the reading
universally found is not the reading which the earliest
authorities contain. All later editors have profited by
the results of his labor and abilities, none more so than
the men who have been conspicuous in maligning him.
Yet his name speedily became and long remained a
synonym for a dunce. Such indeed it still continues
to be with that part of the educated public who are not

PREFACE

sufficiently educated in this matter to know the false-
ness of the beliefs they have inherited from the past.

To make clear how this condition of things was
brought about requires the consideration of numerous
details in the literary history of the eighteenth century
which seem far removed from any questions connected
with the text of Shakespeare. It requires in particular
a full discussion of several productions which exerted
marked influence in causing the estimate to be taken
of Theobald that came to prevail. Of these the first
and far the most effective was * The Dunciad.' This
satire was a Shakespearean document pure and simple.
Furthermore, it is the greatest work in English litera-
ture to which Shakespearean controversy has given
birth. But it is not of that form of it which we find
printed to-day, it is not of that form of it with which
we are all now familiar, that this assertion holds good.
' The Dunciad ' which played so important a part in
Shakespearean controversy has practically passed away
both from the memory and the sight of men. There
are modern editions of Pope's works which reprint it
as it appeared in 1728, as a sort of appendix to its
present form. But the enlarged and complete form
which it assumed in 1729 and held for the fourteen
years following, with the elaborate textual apparatus
accompanying it, has never been reproduced in any-
thing like its entirety. The recast of 1743 not merely
changed its character, it removed almost entirely its
significance as a factor in Shakespearean controversy.
The substitution of a new hero rendered necessary the

PREFACE

omission or alteration of lines referring to the original
hero, or their application to some one else. More than
that, it swept out of existence all the notes bearing
directly or remotely npon the proper method of editing
the text of Shakespeare.

The result is that men have come to forget that ( The
Dunciad ' had its life breathed into it by the inspira-
tion of Shakespearean controversy. From it, as it now
appears, it would be impossible to get any real concep-
tion of the agencies which called it into being. In par-
ticular, the relation which it bore to Theobald and his
criticism of Pope's edition of Shakespeare never receives
from those discussing the satire its due emphasis, and
sometimes not even so much as an allusion. Further-
more, the truth of the statements about him contained
in its notes has never been made the subject of investi-
gation. The very notes about him and his work have
themselves nearly all disappeared; but the falsehoods
found in them which Pope set in circulation have never
ceased to be repeated, and may be said to nourish still
in their original vitality.

Many of these misrepresentations of the original hero
have now become so hoary with age that though far
from venerable they are treated with veneration. They
have been accepted as true not only by his enemies but
by his friends. One example must suffice; but it is
a significant one. None have been more cordial in
recognizing the service rendered by Theobald to the text
of the dramatist than the editors of the invaluable edi-
tion which goes under the name of the Cambridge Shake-

xii

PREFACE

speare. Yet we find in the preface to that work a state-
ment about him to the effect that he was " in the habit
of communicating notes on passages of Shakespeare to
i Mist's Journal/ a weekly Tory organ." This assertion
was one of the growths of that fertile breeding-ground
of baseless insinuation and deliberate misstatement,
the prose commentary to ' The Dunciad ' of 1729 and
its immediate successors. It has been repeated con-
stantly. How little there is of truth in it, or rather
how much there is of falsehood, any one will discover
to his fullest satisfaction who takes the trouble to read
the sixteenth chapter of the present volume. Even the
mere list of Theobald's letters contained in the index
under his name will furnish an ample corrective.

The difficulty, therefore, with the modern accounts of
' The Dunciad ' is that they are based essentially upon
the final form which it came to assume. It has not been
approached from the Shakespearean side, the only side
from which it could be properly understood. Accord-
ingly the circumstances which occasioned its creation
have either been disregarded entirely or have met with
that slight perfunctory mention which hides instead of
revealing their significance. I think I may venture
to say, without making an undue claim for myself or
intending any disparagement of the work accomplished
by others, that in this volume the story of the original
1 Dunciad ' has been told for the first time in its en-
tirety ; the motives set forth which led to its production ;
the steps which marked its inception and progress ; the
immediate as well as remote effects wrought by it. In

xiii

PREFACE

addition the erroneous statements are exposed which are
still repeated and credited as to the havoc it wrought.

In making this assertion I am fully aware of the great
Labor which has already been spent upon the elucidation
of the problems connected with the production of the
satire. So far indeed am I from underrating the value
of the results reached by the exertions of others that
it seems hardly necessary to say that had not they done
what they did, it would have been impossible to carry
forward to any successful completion the work for which
they paved the way. He indeed who devotes himself to
the study of any special literary or historical subject
soon comes to recognize that he must build upon the
foundations laid by his predecessors. Even the errors
into which they have been betrayed cannot be corrected
without the aid of the materials which they have sup-
plied; and it would be an ungrateful as well as an
ungracious task not to acknowledge the obligation he is
under to the very men whose assertions he denies and
whose conclusions he controverts. I speak this in par-
ticular with reference to the edition of Pope by Elwin
and Courthope, the one to which references are regu-
larly made in the notes. I have had occasion to point
out a few errors in this work and could have pointed out
some others. Yet without the help furnished by it, not
only would my own labors have been vastly increased,
but I should have been left in many cases in doubt where
it is now possible to feel that certainty has been reached.

But a still further difficulty early presented itself.
The original ' Dunciad ' was primarily designed to

xiv

PREP ACE

attack the critic of Pope's edition of Shakespeare and
to turn into ridicule the methods he had put forth to
restore the text of the plays. But while that was the
main object, it was not the only object. Pope made use
of the work to assail all his enemies or supposed enemies.
In the case of some of these the feeling displayed
surpassed in virulence and intensity that manifested
towards the man who occasioned the satire itself and
had been chosen its hero. In consequence the Shake-
spearean quarrel became involved with and to no small
extent merged in numerous other quarrels in which the
poet was concerned. One great object originally held
in view in the preparation of this volume was to disen-
gage it from these with which it had become associated
and intermixed. But it became at last evident that it
was not possible — at least it was not within the pos-
sibility of any powers of mine — to disentangle it from
the many with which it had become interwoven, and at
the same time give any proper conception of the atti-
tude and acts of the protagonists in the Shakespearean
controversy. Were it detached entirely from the rest,
the devices to which Pope resorted to discredit his rival
editor would be at best but imperfectly apprehended,
certainly not fully comprehended. No other course
seemed to lie open than to give a fairly complete account
of the various agencies which Pope made use of in the
numerous controversies in which he was a participant,
Iso far as the Shakespearean quarrel had any connection
Avith them at all. The enforced change <>f plan has not
merely delayed the publication of the present volume,

PREFACE

but has rendered it necessary to defer to a future one
an account of the later controversies about the text
which went on during the eighteenth century.

Hence this work, instead of being devoted exclusively
to its professed subject, is largely taken up with matters
in which that is concerned but indirectly. Though
never lost sight of, it cannot be denied that it plays a
very insignificant part in some of the chapters. In
truth the present volume deals almost as much with
Pope as it does with Shakespeare; as much with cer-
tain phases of the literary history of the eighteenth
century as it does with any discussion of the changes
which have been made in the text of the plays. Nearly
all the authors of the period, whether eminent or obscure,
appear in its pages. The method of proceeding adopted
required the perusal of the writings of the now little
known men whom Pope assailed, and of the equally little
known men whom he praised. It further imposed the
necessity of going carefully through the ephemeral liter-
ature of the period — much of it not easily accessible —
the essays, the pamphlets, the miscellanies, the maga-
zines, the daily and weekly journals. The reading of
numerous forgotten books, the examination year by year
of numerous forgotten newspapers, is hardly so much a
course of penitential as it is of penitentiary reading.
Yet this study of the dusty records of a neglected past,
however toilsome and tedious, has had its compensations.
It has cast an entirely new light upon several transac-
tions. It has revealed the baselessness of a number of
beliefs which have been accepted as true in literary

xvi

PREFACE

history. It has furnished the means of securing the
precise form of the sentences which Pope misquoted or
garbled to serve his own ends, of exposing the ingenuity
of his disingenuousness, and of bringing out clearly the
vague and shadowy nature of the relation existing be-
tween any given fact and his account of it.

There were certain other matters which needed expli-
cation before the merits of the controversy could be
understood. It has been found incumbent to give an
account of several of the minor pieces which came out
during the period under survey. Nor could some of
the newspaper organs, in which discussion was carried
on, be overlooked. In particular I have devoted a
whole chapter to the history of Pope's personal organ,
the ' Grub-street Journal.' This publication has never
received the attention it deserves in any study of the
numerous quarrels in which the poet took part. Its
actual editorship, I feel confident, has been established
in these pages. The assignment to this post of Dr.
Richard Russell, given in all recent biographies of Pope
and in all books of reference, can hardly be anything
but an error. I may add further, that the confusion
existing in these works between two physicians with
this same name has been dissipated by the research of
Miss E. J. Hastings of London, who has kindly com-
municated to me the results of her investigations.

To the settlement of the vexed questions connected
with the bibliography of 'The Dunciad' the examina-
tion of the periodica] literature of the period has con-
tributed some further aid. The new facta ndduced

xvii

PREFACE

seem to me to justify all the inferences which are drawn
as to the reasons which led to the adoption of the mys-
terious operations connected with the publication of
'The Dunciad' of 1728 and of 1729, as well* as turn-
ing into certainties the beliefs commonly held as to the
time and order of the appearance of the several editions
belonging to the latter year. Certain details here givon
would indeed be subject to modification, if any pub-
lisher or even bookseller named Dod or Dob could be
shown to have been in existence. Such a fact would
prove that they were real beings, and not, as is hero
assumed, mere dummies created by Pope for his own
purposes. But the main contention would not be
affected, even were it discovered that such men actually
had a being. All that needs to be said here is that before
venturing to express an opinion on this point I exam-
ined scores and scores of title-pages and scores and
scores of book advertisements and never once met with
either of these names save as publishers of ' Dunciad 7
editions of 1729. On the other hand, A. Dodd, whose
existence has been denied, was a very real person. The
name is found then and subsequently on the title-pages
of a number of books. Whether it denotes a man or a
woman is not so easy to ascertain; for in some of the
newspapers of the time a Mrs. Dodd appears as a book-
seller with a shop in the neighborhood of Temple Bar.

Of some interest, if not of importance in Shakespear-
ean controversy, was one discovery which, though much
longed for, came to me, after all, unexpectedly, while
wading through this apparently interminable bog of

xviii

PREFACE

periodical literature. A chance allusion in the corre-
spondence of Theobald and Warburton, contained in
Nichols's ' Illustration of the Literary History of the
Eighteenth Century ' — cited in the notes simply as
Nichols — had long led me to feel confident that War-
burton at this early period Had published three anony-
mous articles attacking Pope. But all memory of them
had vanished utterly. Not so much as an allusion to them
has ever been made either by his friends or enemies. In
fact it is apparent that hardly any one during his life-
time and no one after his death had even suspected the
existence of such pieces, far less known of them. There
was consequently no hint to be found in any quarter as to
the place where, and scarcely any as to the time when
these articles had made their appearance. To search
for them seemed therefore very much like looking for
the proverbial needle in a haystack. It was my good
fortune, however, to light upon them in a London daily
paper of 1729. A summary of their contents will be
found in the seventeenth chapter. They furnish proof
which cannot be gainsaid, of the virulently hostile atti-
tude, previously suspected, which Warburton at that
time held towards the man whose champion and bene-
ficiary he was later to become. They have furthermore
a certain interest as containing the first of any emenda-
tions of his which appeared in print. These are not
many and their value does not make up for their rarity.
A few of them have never found record in any vario-
rum edition. It is for their curiosity rather than for

their importance that they have here been exhumed from

xix

PREFACE

the newspaper grave in which they have lain buried for
a period approaching two centuries.

The results here presented of the study made both
of the subject and of the literary history of the period
under consideration undoubtedly tend to impart a
higher estimate of Theobald's ability and achievement
than has been entertained even by those who have shown
themselves most favorable in their judgment. In this
respect they are in full accord with the general trend of
later Shakespearean investigation. The number of
examples given of emendations he made have been
cited, however, for something else than to establish be-
yond question the existence of the learning and the
acumen which he brought to bear upon the revision of
Shakespeare's dramatic works. They have been largely
introduced to show to the reader who has paid no special
attention to the subject the status of the original text
and the methods which have been followed to bring it
into its present condition of comparative perfection. A
few illustrations of the alterations he made will convey
a clearer comprehension of the difficulties that had to
be met and overcome than would pages of general
observation.

But though the facts revealed in these investigations
turn out distinctly favorable to Theobald, they have in
no case been manipulated in order to produce whatever
impression they convey. So far as one can be permitted
to trust his own motives, I have not been conscious of
the least inclination to give an account of any circum-
stances which is not in accordance with the precise truth ;

PREFACE

or to draw any inferences or to make any assertions
which were not supported by reasonable and even con-
vincing proofs. This has been particularly my aim in
the case of those statements which conflict with views
generally held or beliefs assumed as established in cur-
rent literary history. I hold no brief for Theobald. I
have not neglected to point out places where his state-
ments were wrong and his conclusions mistaken, or
where his conduct was censurable. There is no reason
for according him qualities and qualifications to which
he is not entitled because he has been misrepresented
and maligned for centuries, and has been called dull by
men who were themselves duller than he could ever have
thought of being.

Finally, let it not be fancied that I delude myself
with the belief that the facts here presented, incontro-
vertible as they are, will reverse the verdict passed upon
the man by ages too prejudiced to consider fairly, too
indifferent to feel concern, too indolent to investigate.
The world cares very little for justice. It is not indeed
solicitous about it in the case of its greatest names, if
the trouble of ascertaining truth overbalances to any
extent the comfort which attends the acceptance of easy
falsehood. Immeasurably more will this disinclination
exist in the case of an obscure scholar of whom few know
and about whom fewer care. To some the subject itself
will be a weariness, to most a matter of absolute indiffer-
ence. It is for that comparatively small class who are
interested in the history of the text of Shakespeare; of

that other small class who are interested in the literary

xxi

PREFACE

history of the eighteenth century and of the character
and acts of its foremost poet ; and of that smallest of all
classes, made up of those who are anxious that justice
should be rendered to a humble but much maligned
scholar to whom all readers of the greatest of dramatists
are profoundly indebted — it is mainly for the men of
these classes that this volume has been prepared.

xxn

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

CHAPTER I

THE DRAMATIC SITUATION IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME

Where is to be found the best text of Shakespeare's
works ? Of the many editions before the public, which
is the one to be preferred? These are questions which
are pretty certain to be asked by him who is about to
take up for the first time the study of that author's
dramatic productions. It may and it sometimes does
cause a feeling of disappointment when the answer is
made — as no other answer can fairly be made — that
not only is there no best edition of Shakespeare's works,
but there never can be and never will be one. By this
best edition is meant of course that which is so reckoned
by the concurrent and concurring voices of all entitled
to speak with authority. Doubtless there may be one
which will receive the large majority of the suffrages of
a particular period. But the only man who could have
compelled the assent of every one to the readings he
chose was Shakespeare himself. Inasmuch as he failed
to establish definitively the text, we can continue confi-
dent that so long as the knowledge and taste and judg-
ment of men vary, no edition will ever attain to that
authoritative position in which it is received as the
standard one for all time.
l 1

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

If the plays of Shakespeare, like his two principal
poems, had been brought out under his own supervision,
the text would for all practical purposes have been
settled for us finally. We might find fault with it ; we
might suggest improvements in it; we might profess
our inability to understand it; we might object to
particular words and phrases found in it; we might
charge the poet with being unidiomatic and ungram-
matical, careless in his construction, confused in his
expression, with every defect, in fine, which is apt to be
discovered in the great masters of our literature by
those who exhibit that enthusiasm about, or possess that
confidence in, verbal criticism which results from a late
study of good usage or a limited acquaintance with it.
But the very worst of these critics would respect the
integrity of the readings transmitted to us. Even he
who possessed the necessary imbecility to condemn
would lack the necessary impudence to alter. Shakes-
peare would accordingly stand or fall in our estimation
by our estimation of what was handed down, undeterred
by the possibility that his words had been changed or
perverted by the carelessness or contrivance of the men
who were to speak them, or had been corrupted by the
blunders of those who printed them.

But, so far from having any assurance to this effect,
we can be reasonably certain that to a greater or less
extent his writings have suffered from both these
calamities. Shakespeare has a peculiar distinction
among English authors of the very first rank who have
appeared since the invention of printing. He is the
only one of that class who stands to us in the same

THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME

position as do the authors who flourished in the age of
manuscript. There is the same uncertainty as to his
text which exists in regard to theirs. In his case as in
theirs the same necessity is found for emendation and
revision. In him as in them occur corrupt passages in
which the hard task is laid upon human ingenuity, not
to extract a meaning from them, but to put a meaning
into them. Hence the subject of the text of Shake-
speare, while strictly not exciting in itself, has become
the subject of excited controversy. For this fact there
is the justification that the correctness of the readings
employed is something more than a matter of importance
to the special student of language. It is of even higher
interest to every one who looks at the works of the poet
from the side of literature pure and simple.

It is accordingly natural to ask for the cause or
causes which brought about this condition of things.
How happened it that the works of the greatest dram-
atist in our literature should seemingly have attracted
so little his attention and regard that a complete col-

lection of them never appeared during his lifetim
lie was particular in setting forth accurately his
two principal poems. Why did he fail so to show the
same interest in the far superior pieces written
for the stage? In the publication of several of the
single plays which came out while he was living in
London it is impossible to believe that he had the
slightest concern. Even of the very best and most
correctly printed of these, few would be found to
maintain aa indisputable that they had ever been
subjected to his supervision. Not one of them but

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

contains perplexing or inexplicable words or passages
which could hardly have passed unchallenged had the
author himself seen his work through the press.

The inquiry is therefore inevitable, How came these
things to be so ? What caused the text of Shakespeare
to fall into the corrupt condition in which it has come
down to us ? Before such questions can be answered,
we must understand the relations in which the dramatic
literature of the Elizabethan age stood to the life of the
times. We must further understand the sentiments
which the playwrights of that day entertained about
their own productions. Then only can we comprehend
the nature of the feelings which were affecting them all.
Then it will be seen that much which the superficial
view is disposed to regard as peculiar to Shakespeare
was in reality common; much that seems strange in
his attitude towards his own dramatic works will be
found to be the attitude of nearly every one of his
contemporaries.

There is first the general view of the situation which
has to be taken into consideration. Nothing is more
noticeable in every literary epoch, especially in every
great creative epoch, than the fact that one kind of
production takes precedence of all in general interest.
It is not that this is the exclusive way in which intellect-
ual activity manifests itself; it is simply the preferred
way. Nor is it that this kind is necessarily regarded as
the highest in character. It is merely the one which for
the mass of men possesses the greatest attraction. To it,
therefore, and to its cultivation the minds of those who
are anxious for purely literary distinction are almost

THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME

certain to bo directed. An illustration or two taken
from our own literature will make this point perfectly
clear.

In the reign of Queen Anne and the first Georges
every one wrote short essays, which came out regularly
under some particular title, either independently, or
as contributions to the columns of established newspa-
pers. All of us are familiar — at least in theory — with
the writings in this form of Steele, Addison, Swift,
Dr. Johnson, and in fact with the somewhat depressing
collection of fifty volumes, more or less, which go under
the general name of the British Essayists. Still, very
few have any conception of the immense amount of
literature of this sort, often famous, or at least notorious,
in its day, which has practically passed away from the
memory of all men and from the sight of most. There
are thousands of these essays preserved in scores of
volumes which, if to be seen at all, are met with only
on the shelves of great libraries. Many of them have
never been reprinted from the columns of the daily or
weekly journals in which they made their appearance.

Nor is the fate which has overtaken these writings
altogether due to the fact that they were inferior pro-
ductions or the productions of inferior men. On the
contrary, the authors of these forgotten pieces have in
some instances occupied a high position. One example
will suffice. How many students even of eighteenth-
century literature are familiar with the essays of Field-
ing which appeared in 4 The Champion,' in 4 The True
Patriot/ in 4 The Jacobite Journal,' and in 4 The Covent
Garden Journal ' ? Many of them abounded in the

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keenest wit and satire. Yet few even of the highly
educated know anything about them. To most men
they are something more than unheard of, — they are
inaccessible if heard of. The very fullest editions of
Fielding's works contain but a selection of them, —
a selection, too, not always made with the best of
judgment.

It is needless, however, to go so far back as the
eighteenth century to find a striking proof of the truth
of the general assertion. In our own time there are two
ways in which literary activity is inclined to manifest
itself. These are the novel and the newspaper. There
is hardly a young person, in whom the passion for purely
literary distinction exists, who does not at the present
time either write or contemplate writing a novel. The
tendency is so strong that men entirely unfitted for it, or
who have achieved reputation in other fields of labor,
are drawn into it almost involuntarily. In fact the novel
has been largely converted, or some would choose to
say perverted, from its original intent. If in our time
one wishes to propagate new views in politics or religion,
to attack existing abuses, to advance fresh theories upon
any subject, a natural or at least a most effective method
of giving currency to his opinions is through the medium
of fictitious narrative. The newspaper is with us even a
more universal attraction, if not so potent in individual
cases. Every one writes to some extent for it, though
every one's writings do not always appear. Still the
immense influence wielded by the periodical press
makes the profession, in spite of the hard work and
wretched pay which often attend it, more an object

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of attraction to young men and to men who are anxious
to impress their opinions upon the minds of their
contemporaries.

What the essay was to the men of the eighteenth cen-
tury, what the novel and the newspaper are to the men
of our day, the drama was to the age of Elizabeth and
James. It was the readiest way to achieve literary
popularity. It was the most effective engine for influ-
encing the community in days when none of the modern
agencies for this purpose existed. It was all the more
effective because, like the modern novel, its professed
aim was not to instruct, but to delight. As a natural
consequence the profession of playwright, though by no
means highest in public estimation, was nevertheless
the one which appealed most powerfully to all aspirants
for intellectual distinction. Everybody wrote, or tried
to write, for the stage. It made no difference whether
men were educated for law or for divinity or for medi-
cine ; provided they had an ambition to achieve for them-
selves a name in contemporary literature, their exertions
in two cases out of three were sure to be turned towards
that one form of literary activity which conferred in the
same breath popularity and power. So wide-embracing
and far-reaching was the sweep of the dramatic mael-
strom that it drew into its vortex future occupants of
pulpits who were sometimes later to preach against the
very profession they had practised. It attracted mem-
bers of the nobility who ran counter to the sentiment
prevailing in the class to which they belonged, that
writing for the stage was something not consonant with
tin; dignity of their order. "The Earl of Derby," said,

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as if slightingly, a letter-writer in 1598, " is busy pen-
ning comedies for the common players." *

In consequence of this wide-spread interest the pro-
duction of plays was enormous. But no enormous
number has been preserved. The plays now extant,
excluding masques and pageants, are well under seven
hundred. Until of late it has been the universally ac-
cepted doctrine that the immense majority of the pieces
then brought out have perished. In the general denial
which has gone on during the last half-century of every-
thing which previously no one presumed even to doubt,
it would have been strange if this particular belief had
not also been made the subject of attack. We have
accordingly been told that nearly everything of a dra-
matic character which the past produced has been trans-
mitted to the present. If it has not come down under
its own name, it exists disguised under some other.
This would be a most cheering view to take, could the
facts be made to accommodate themselves to it. The
difficulties in the way, the recital of a few instances out
of many will serve to indicate.

Thomas Heywood, in the address to the reader pre-
fixed to his pky of * The English Traveller,' published
in 1633, speaks of that tragi-comedy as one "reserved
amongst two hundred and twenty," in which he had had
"the entire hand or at least a main finger." He was at
that time in the full vigor of his powers. As the date
given is nine years before the closing of the theaters,
there is little doubt that this number would be swelled

1 State Papers, Domestic Series, 1598-1601, p. 227. Letter of George
Fenner to Humphrey Galdelli.

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considerably if we could add to it the dramatic pieces
which he produced during the intervening period. But
whatever was the exact amount of his enormous produc-
tion, all of it which has survived the wreck which has
overtaken the literature of the stage are just twenty-four
plays. The accounts contained in the so-called * Diary '
of the stage -manager, Philip Henslowe, lead to the same
conclusion. Take the case of Dekker. From this work
we know that from the beginning of 1598 to the end of
1G02, that dramatist produced ten entire plays of his
own, and in conjunction with others wrote at least thirty,
besides making additions to and alterations in nearly a
half-dozen more. Thus during the space of somewhat
less than four years he was concerned to a greater or less
extent in the production of full forty plays.

In truth all the evidence which has come down leads
directly to the conclusion that the vast majorit}r of the
plays produced during the Elizabethan period have per-
ished. In 1598 Francis Meres, in his literary drag-net
called Palladis Tamia, tells us that both Henry Chettle
and Richard Hath way were then reckoned as among the
best writers for comedy, and Ben Jonson one of the best
for tragedy. The prevalence of such a view implies that
there had been by that time a respectable bod}^ of pro-
duction by the three men in these two departments of
the drama. Yet not a single comedy of either Chettle
or Hathway, written before 1598, is certainly extant,
nor a single tragedy of Ben Jonson. Between Febru-
ary 15, 1592, and October 5, 1597, Henslowe records the
performance of about one hundred and twenty new
pieces. It is an understatement to say that above two-

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thirds of these have disappeared. When we come to
individual writers the facts are even more impressive.
Between the latter part of 1597 and the middle of
March, 1603, Henslowe gives the title of thirteen plays
which Chettle wrote wholly, and of thirty-six in whose
composition or revision he had a part. Of the thirteen,
only a corrupt copy of one has been preserved, or at least
has been printed. Of the thirty-six, but four have sur-
vived. Hathway's case is even worse. Sixteen plays
in which he had a hand are mentioned. Not a single
one is extant. Many similar illustrations from various
quarters could be furnished. An altogether wrong esti-
mate of the aggregate would indeed be got by adding
together the works of different writers : for in that case
the same piece might be reckoned several times. But
even with this modification the facts suffice to establish
the truth of the common belief.

There has already been occasion to refer to the work
which goes under the name of ' Henslowe's Diary.' Well
known as it is to all students of the Elizabethan drama,
it is so little known to the rest of the world that there
is ample reason for a particular description of it here.
This is all the more desirable because its contents sup-
ply, to him who has eyes to see, a vivid picture of the
dramatic situation as it is found in the closing years of
the reign of Elizabeth. For the information it furnishes
of the practices then prevalent and of the sentiments
then prevailing, it has no rival in records of any sort
which have come down from that period. Of Henslowe
himself it is sufficient to say that he was a man engaged
in various occupations who became largely interested in

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the management and construction of theaters. He was
doubtless led to take an increasing' share in these enter-
prises by the connection formed with his family by the
celebrated actor Edward Alleyn, the founder of Dulwich
College.

The name of Diary applied to the work is a mislead-
ing one. It is really little else than a depository of
memoranda of payments to and transactions with dra-
matic writers; of receipts from performances on each
night, with the name of the play ; and further of the
expenditure made for stage equipments of various kinds.
The continuous reading of an account-book does not
contribute to hilarity, and this particular one combines
difficulty of decipherment with dryness of detail. Hens-
lowe, while clearly a clever business man, was an illit-
erate one even for his own time. Among other things he
held peculiar views as to English orthography, which is
peculiar enough of itself without receiving contributions
from outside sources. Occasionally the names he gives
to plays — such, for illustration, as " too harpes " and
" the forteion tenes," — defy all attempts at the unravel-
ment of their mystery. The Diary too has suffered from
the injurious agencies that are always threatening works
left in manuscript. Portions of it had disappeared when
it was first published in full in 1845. The loss of such
was made up to some extent by the interpolation of
forgeries. These, until exposed, contributed to render
untrustworthy what had been originally defective. Yet
imperfect as is the form in which tin; work was originally
written, and more imperfect as it is in the form in which
it now exists, its apparently dreary collection of names

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and dates enables us to make more definite statements
in regard to the Elizabethan stage than any other source
now known.

Of late years, indeed, it has been quite the fashion to
find fault with Henslowe's character and conduct, and as
a consequence to discredit the value of the inferences
which can be drawn from the testimony he furnishes.
Every scrap of evidence to his disadvantage — from the
nature of the case entirely one-sided — has been care-
fully sifted out and set forth conspicuously. He has
been described as a particularly disreputable specimen
of a particularly disreputable class. According to this
portrayal he was hard, grasping, and penurious. The
men who wrote for him were in a condition little above
that of servitude. He took advantage of their necessi-
ties ; he forced them to do for him as much as possible
for as little remuneration as possible. We are fairly
compelled to believe, from the contrast regularly drawn
between him and the occupants of a position similar to
his own, that the managers of other companies — cer-
tainly of the one to which Shakespeare belonged — went
into the business from motives so generous and noble
as strictly to deserve the name of philanthropic. No
mere love of lucre stirred their hearts, no sordid desire of
making money influenced their actions. They had but
few authors in their employ. These they paid with liber-
ality, these they treated in all ways generously. They
were solicitous to get from them their very best work.
Consequently they brought out comparatively few pieces.
So long as we know nothing, we are at liberty to conjec-
ture everything ; and it is upon lack of evidence of any

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sort that theories of this particular sort are built up.
Their chief value is the contribution they make to our
knowledge of the innocence as well as the virtue of their
originators. They are based upon so lofty a conception
of the nature of men in general, and of stage-managers
in particular, that a certain regret must always be felt
that belief in them must rest entirely upon faith, and
not at all upon sight. Accordingly they may be dis-
missed with a confidence equal to the confidence with
which they are proposed.

Henslowe, it must be confessed, was not a character
to which the slightest romantic interest attaches itself.
To be engaged at various times in the various occupa-
tions of dyer, pawn-broker, starch-manufacturer, dealer
in real estate, stage-manager, and in all these to keep an
eye fixed upon the main chance, argues a certain busi-
ness versatility ; but it does not invest the man with
personal attraction. Yet it is much more than doubt-
ful if there be the least justification for the opprobrious
terms which of late have been employed in speaking of
him. There is no reason to believe that his treatment
of authors was exceptional. There is no ground for as-
serting that the prices he paid them were lower than those
paid elsewhere. He doubtless got his plays as cheaply as
he could. This is a course of conduct not peculiar to the
man or his time. Some of his payments wrere made at
the instance of the actors themselves. There is accord-
ingly every reason to believe that the bargain had been
effected by them originally ; that it was they who had
agreed with the author upon the price, and that it
was through them the money was transmitted. If the

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account>books of other companies had been preserved, it
is tolerably certain that a condition of things not essen-
tially dissimilar would be exhibited. It is hardly fair to
single Henslowe out for reprobation because we happen
to know what he did, and are utterly ignorant of what
others did. We are therefore fully justified in accepting
the conclusions which can be drawn from an analysis of
the information which his work supplies.

Such an analysis discloses several facts of importance
bearing directly upon the dramatic situation of the time.
The first is that at that period plays had no run, in the
modern sense of the word. This involves a good deal
more than might be supposed at the first glance. The
examination of Henslowe's * Diary ' shows that there are
but two instances where the same play was acted on two
successive days. Furthermore, the same play was never
acted with great frequency. An interval of several days
generally took place between the performances of the
most popular. When a new dramatic piece was brought
out, it was in most cases not repeated for at least a week
afterward. In fact, two weeks or more often elapsed be-
tween the first two times of representation, and occa-
sionally, even a month. In nearly a fourth of the plays
recorded by Henslowe, the interval was shorter, not ex-
tending beyond three or four days ; and one of them,
styled 4 Valteger,' produced December 4, 1596, achieved
the distinction of being performed the day following.
Whatever was the reason for this unusual proceeding,
the receipts show that it was not due to any excessive
popularity of the piece. The only other instance of the
same play being performed on successive days is that of

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one entitled ' Alexander and Lodowick,' which was acted
on the 11th and 12th of February, 1597. These were
its second and third representations, it having been
first brought out the fourteenth day of the preceding
January.

A fairly correct estimate of the general situation at that
time may be gained, by bringing into one view the facts
furnished by Henslowe's Diary in regard to the repre-
sentation of three of Marlowe's plays during the years
1594, 1595, and 1596. These are : ' The Jew of Malta/
' Doctor Faustus,' and ' Tamburlaine.' All of them had
been produced some time before. But though their nov-
zlty was gone, they continued to retain their hold upon
the theater-going public. Accordingly, the frequency of
their performance each year may be taken as giving, on
the whole, the average number of representations likely
then to be reached by a popular play. Henslowe's ac-
count extends over about nine and a half months of
1594 ; a little less than nine months of 1595 ; and a
little less than seven months of 1596. Presumably,
the theater or theaters in which he was interested
were closed during the periods of which nothing is
reported. His record shows that in 1594, 'The Jew
of Malta ' was acted fifteen times ; in 1595 not once,
and in 1596 eight times. 'Doctor Faustus' is men-
tioned as first performed dining this period in 1594,
on the 80th of September ; but before the end of the
year it had been acted eight times. In 1595 there
were seven representations of it, and in 1596, eight.
6 Tamburlaine,' a. play then at least seven years old,
was brought out again in 1594, on the 28th of August.

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Before the year closed, there had been eight perform-
ances in all. In 1595, there were six representations
of this piece ; though the number would have to be
doubled, were we to add to it the representations of
its second part, which usually took place the day fol-
lowing that of the first. In 1596, it was acted seven
times.

The varying numbers here given pretty fairly repre-
sent the varying success of the new plays produced at
this period. Unfortunately, Henslowe's record of the
pieces and the dates of their performance ceases on
the fifth of November, 1597. It is therefore possible
that the statements made about the frequency of repe-
tition may not continue true as time went on. It
would, in all probability, tend to become less true as
we get further into the seventeenth century. Data for
making any positive assertions on this point are, how-
ever, exceedingly scanty. Still, it is certain that later,
under exceptional circumstances, pieces had now and
then what might justly be termed a run. The title-
page of a comedy of Middleton's, called 'The Game
at Chess,' which was first produced in 1624, repre-
sents the play as having been acted nine days together
at the Globe. Even then its performance was stopped
by royal order. But the favor it met was due to other
causes than its excellence as a work of art. It really
owed its success to its political character. Both the
English and Spanish courts were brought upon the
stage. The Spanish ambassador was unmercifully at-
tacked both on the score of his political intrigues, and
of his personal deformities. But the very fact that it

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had been acted for nine successive days was at that
time the very strongest sort of evidence to the reader
that it had been extraordinarily successful; while the
calling attention to what would now seem so small a
number of performances as a proof of its success, marks
very clearly the great difference in this respect between
the two ages in which there has existed no restriction
upon the number of theatres — the Elizabethan and our
own.

At this early period indeed the stage was almost the
only form of general intellectual recreation. There were
then no newspapers, no magazines, no novels as that
term is now understood. Outside of the theater the
entertainments were scanty which enabled the educated
man of leisure to while away his time, or the man engrossed
in business to occupy his leisure. There he would learn
history ; there he would find criticism ; there he would
hear comments on current events. In the Elizabethan
age indeed men spent a certain portion of their time in
listening to plays as they do now in reading novels or
newspapers. The same variation in the matter to be
heard was therefore just as important then as is now
the variation in the matter to be read. Webster with
some bitterness noted that people came to the theater
with the same feelings which led " ignorant asses," as he
called them, to ask of the stationers, not whether books
were good for anything, but whether they were new.1
The companies had of course a large stock of pieces
always on hand. These they brought out as often as
it was thought profitable or it became necessary. Still,

1 Preface to play of ' The White Devil,' 1612.

9 17

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in consequence of the relation in which they stood to
the public, their attention was steadily directed to the
production of new plays.

That this would be the case we might naturally
assume from what has just been said ; but the Diary of
Henslowe furnishes a very striking illustration of its
truth. Take for instance one period recorded — that
from June 3, 1594, to May 27, 1596. In this the com-
pany or companies in which Henslowe had an interest
were acting much the largest proportion of the time.
The intervals in which no performances took place em-
braced about twenty weeks of the two years. During
this period there were thirty-si x new pieces brought out.
Consequently a little more than sixteen days, includ-
ing Sundays, was the average interval between the
production of any two new dramas. This was probably
the shortest time in which the parts could be learned by the
actors and the stage properties procured and satisfacto-
rily put in order. The average interval, be it remembered,
not the invariable one. This was sometimes much less.
For instance between the fourth and the thirtieth of
December, 1596, Henslowe records the production of
four new pieces, and of three between the seventh and the
twenty-ninth of April, 1597.

We can therefore understand that the demand for new
plays at the various theatres must have been inordinately
great. This in part accounts for the large number who
entered upon the profession of playwriting as a liveli-
hood. There were, first, the regular writers for the stage,
whose position had become established, and who were not
unfrequently paid as fast as they furnished copy, and

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sometimes doubtless before they had contributed a line.
But besides these, pressed steadily on a continually
recruited crowd of hungry aspirants, all eager to enter
upon the same career. Graduates of the universities
abandoned their destined professions with the hope of
gaining distinction, if not support, by this means. The
actors themselves, belonging to the companies, sometimes
added to their legitimate business the composition of the
very pieces they had a part in performing. No one
needs to be told that of this body of dramatic writers
Shakespeare is the great exemplar ; but there is plenty
of evidence also that several successful playwrights of
that time had been originally unsuccessful players. In
truth, with all classes of men with whom it was not a
vocation, writing for the stage was more or less an avo-
cation ; just as at the present time every man of literary
pursuits, no matter what his special profession, writes to
a certain extent for the press, while a more limited num-
ber of these, who would never think of calling them-
selves novelists, devote a portion of their time to the
composition of fictitious narrative.

In consequence of the great demand for plays the
position of a writer for the stage was one of considerable
importance and even of emolument as literary productions
were then paid. Men who were successful dramatic poets
became objects of contention with the managers of rival
theaters, full as much as and probably more than at
the present time popular authors are with publishers.
That such should be the case would be a natural infer-
ence; but we have occasionally direct evidence of the
fact. It is distinctly referred to as something thoroughly

1<>

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established in Ben Jonson's play of 'The Alchemist,'
which was brought out in 1610. In it one of the char-
acters celebrates the luck in gaming which the other is
destined to receive through the magic arts of the alche-
mist. To illustrate his consequent popularity he uses
the following comparison :

" You shall have your ordinaries bid for him,
As playhouses for a poet; "

an ordinary at that period combining the characteristics
of an eating-house and of a gambling-saloon.

In fact a successful dramatic author of the age of
Elizabeth was under full as much pressure as is the editor
of a newspaper now. As it was frequently out of the
power of one man to produce plays as fast as they were
needed, it was not at all uncommon — in fact, it was an
established custom — for the theater to have several
writers working on the same production at the same
time. Henslowe's ' Diary ' is full of examples of this prac-
tice. There are nearly one hundred and fifty plays of
which he records the payments made to authors. Of
these much fewer than one half are the work of a single
person. Two or three writers are usually engaged upon
the same production, and the number at times rises to
four, five, and even six. For instance, in June, 1600,
payments were made to Munday, Drayton, Hath way,
Dekker, Chettle, and Day for their work upon a play
styled 'Fair Constance of Rome.' In the case of another
play, entitled ' Caesar's Fall,' — the composition of which
belongs to May, 1600, — Henslowe leaves us to imagine,
if we choose, an indefinitely large number of authors.

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He records the payment of a certain sum to Munday,
Drayton, Webster, Middleton, and then, as if tired of fur-
ther enumeration, lumps any other composer or composers
under the general title of " the rest." This was no un-
common proceeding on his part. Nothing exceptional in
his management led him to record details such as these.
It was clearly the general practice. Certainly a very large
proportion of the plays of that period which have come
down to modern times are the work of two or more
hands.

But while this is undoubtedly true, the amount of
work performed by individual writers is something
enormous, if we look at the matter from the modern
point of view. Thomas Hey wood has already been men-
tioned as having asserted in 1633 that he had written
at that time all or most of two hundred and twenty
plays. It is to be borne in mind that dramatic composi-
tion was but one form of his many-sided literary activity,
which swept through the whole range of prose and
verse. Heywood, it must be added, is usually spoken
of as being especially prolific. That he was a prolific
author, one of the most so of his age, there is no ques-
tion. Still, the belief that he was exceptionally so in the
matter of play-writing seems to rest mainly upon this
incidental and accidental statement of the number of
pieces in which up to the year mentioned he had had the
entire or main hand. The examples previously given
of the number in which Chettle and Dekker had been
concerned during a very limited period, to say nothing
of others that could be cited, show that his rate, if not
his amount of production, was by no means unexampled.

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Excessive production necessarily implies haste in com-
position. The latter was characteristic of the period.
Lyly portrayed the practice of the dramatists in choice
euphuistic phrase. " Our travails," said he, " are like the
hare's, who at one time bringeth forth, nourisheth and
engendereth again ; or like the brood of Trochilus whose
eggs in the same moment they are laid bear birds."1
There were doubtless some who either from choice or
necessity wrote deliberately. But to this slowness there
attached, in the minds of many if not of most, a certain
discredit. Of all the dramatists of the Elizabethan age
Ben Jonson seems the only one who consistently spent
any amount of time and toil upon the composition of
his works. The constant references made by his con-
temporaries and immediate successors to the care he be-
stowed upon his writings show that this was almost a
distinctive peculiarity. By his rivals and enemies he
was not unfrequently taunted with his slowness of pro-
duction. We know from the Induction to his comedy
of ' The Poetaster ' that he was engaged for fifteen weeks
in the composition of that piece, which was mainly an
attack upon two brother dramatists whom he represented
in person upon the stage. In the reply which was made
he was twitted with the length of time it had taken him
to lay this cockatrice's egg before cackling.

From the modern point of view fifteen weeks would
certainly not be looked upon as a specially long time
for the production of a well-wrought dramatic work.
Yet Jonson himself, in spite .of the contempt he must
have felt for the frequently too fatal facility of his con-

1 Prologue to ' Campaspe.'

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temporaries, could not free himself altogether from the
influence of the sentiment prevailing in his day. In the
prologue to * Volpone,' brought out in 1605, he referred
to the fact that envious criticism twitted him with
spending about a year in the composition of a play. Of
the piece in question, one of his very best efforts, he
said, in reply, that it had not been thought of two months
before, that it had been written in five weeks, and that
in it he had had the help of no coadjutor. Webster, too,
showed something of the same sensitiveness on this
same point. " To those who report," he said in his pref-
ace to ' The White Devil,' u I was a long time in finish-
ing this tragedy, I confess I do not write with a goose-
quill winged with two feathers."

Rapidity of production was, therefore, so far from being
uncommon or remarkable during the Elizabethan period
that it was strictly a necessity of the situation. Men of
that day wrote against time very much as a modern edi-
tor does now who has to furnish a certain amount of
copy at a specified hour. A particular play was to be
brought out on a particular date. It was furnished to
the actors as fast as it could be written. Such a course
of proceeding naturally left little time or opportunity for
revision. This was something that in any proper sense
of the word plays could not receive unless they proved
so popular as to be performed frequently. In such a
case they often passed in all probability through what
may be called several editions, in which alterations, im-
portant and unimportant, would to some extent be made.
But the general rule was that plays were written hur-
riedly. We all know the statement of the editors of the

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first folio of Shakespeare's dramatic works in regard to
his swiftness of production. a His mind and hand went
together," say they, " and what he thought, he uttered
with such rapidity that we have scarce received from him
a blot in his papers." This commendation met the cen-
sure of Ben Jonson, who spoke of it as praise given to
the poet for the particular in which he was most at
fault. When the players mentioned it to the honor of
Shakespeare that in his writing, whatsoever he penned
he never blotted out a line, "my answer hath been," said
he, " Would he had blotted out a thousand ! "

Whatever we may think of the abstract justice of
Jonson's criticism, it is clear from the facts already
stated that in this respect Shakespeare did not differ
much, if at all, from the vast majority of contemporary
dramatic authors. In truth, what is essentially the same
statement is made about Fletcher by Humphrey Mosely,
the publisher of the Beaumont and Fletcher folio of
1647. " Whatever I have seen of Mr. Fletcher's own
hand," he wrote, " is free from interlining ; and his
friends affirm he never writ any one thing twice. It
seems he had that rare felicity to prepare and perfect all
first in his own brain ; to shape and attire his notions,
to add or lop off, before he committed one word to writ-
ing, and never touched pen till all was to stand as firm
and immutable as if engraven in brass or marble." But
this characteristic, so far from being rare, was the rule
and not the exception, though the resulting so-called
felicity was often a long way from being felicitous. The
work which the playwright engaged to produce was
usually furnished at the most rapid possible rate. Once

THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME

paid for, the author did not in general trouble himself
any further about the fate of his compositions. Those
productions which we now look upon as the glory of
English literature were then often regarded as being pos-
sessed of nothing more than an ephemeral interest.
This statement will not apply to everything and every
one ; but it is a fair representation of the view commonly
held.

CHAPTER II

ATTITUDE TOWARDS PLAYS OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

The facts given in the preceding chapter fairly
compel the belief that the fertility of the Elizabethan
age in the production of stage plays was as remarkable
as is our own in the production of novels. Of a large
proportion of these pieces it is mainly owing to accident
that the titles have been preserved. The number of
them of which not even so much as the name has come
down, we can guess at, but we can never get beyond a
guess. Most records have disappeared entirely; those
which have been saved are imperfect as well as scanty.
Nor can Ave satisfactorily free ourselves from the con-
viction that destruction has taken place on a grand
scale by seeking refuge in the boundless possibilities of
what may have been; by persuading ourselves that
some play which has survived is the exact representa-
tive or later form of some other play of which every-
thing has vanished but the title. All such assumptions,
where evidence is wanting, are wortldess. In the search
for material, in which the Elizabethan dramatists ran-
sacked ancient and modern history, early legend, and
later romance, the field of contemporary fact as well as
of fiction, it was inevitable that at times they should
strike, intentionally or unintentionally, not merely upon

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

subjects near allied, but even upon the very same
subjects. Henslowe's Diary shows us that ' Ferrex and
Porrex', the title of the first English tragedy which has
been preserved, was also the title of one by Haughton
which has disappeared. It further informs us that the
' Troilus and Cressida' of Shakespeare had been preceded
in 1599 by a piece with the same name written by
Dekker and Chettle, of which not a vestige remains.
A like statement can be made as to Thomas Nobbes'
tragedy of ' Hannibal and Scipio, ' published in 1637.
Early in 1601 Henslowe had brought out a play with
that title, written by Hath way and Rankins.

It is probable indeed that nearly all the very best
pieces then produced have come down to us. It is
permissible, however, to feel regret for the loss of some.
Among the more than fifty manuscript plays 1 which fell
a sacrifice to the zeal of Warburton's cook in the mak-
ing of pies, are about a dozen of Massinger's. Of these,
two have since been printed, — one, to be sure, a frag-
ment,— four are pretty surely lost, and the rest prob-
ably so ; though unlimited conjecture strives to discern
them as existing possibly under some other names. But
besides them, there perished in this ignominious way
four ascribed to Ford, two to Chapman, one each to
Greene, to Cyril Tourneur, to Middleton, to Dekker, to
Marlowe and Day conjointly, and various ones written
by authors either less known or utterly unknown. Even
three which thus ignobly disappeared were attributed to
Shakespeare. We need not fear that English litera-

1 See the lift in the 'Gentleman*! Magazine,' vol. lxxxv. pp. 217-222,
of part ii., September, 1815 ; also p. 424.

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ture has suffered any severe loss by the destruction of
these last. Still one cannot well repress a feeling of
curiosity as to the precise nature of the pieces which
oven the idlest conjecture of the past deemed itself
warranted in imputing to the great dramatist, or inten-
tional fraud included among his works.

It is no difficult matter to discover the reason which
led to the extensive production of plays. But the
agencies which brought about their extensive disappear-
ance do not lie so distinctly on the surface. If this sort
of literary creation was so popular why is it that so
comparatively little of it has been preserved ? This is
a question which confronts the student of the period
every time the contrast presents itself between the great
number of plays which we know the individual drama-
tist to have written and the few of his which have
come down. Fortunately for us it has been answered
by one of the Elizabethans themselves. Mention has
already been made of the play of ' The English Trav-
eller/ In the address to the reader which constitutes
its preface, Heywood, in remarkable but never suffi-
ciently remarked words, reveals the principal agencies
which swept out of existence so large a proportion of
the pieces then written for the stage. He is explaining
why so few of the two hundred and twenty in which he
had been concerned had been printed. " True it is," he
wrote, " that my plays are not exposed to the world in
volumes, to bear the titles of Works (as others). One
reason is that many of them by shifting and changing
of companies have been negligently lost ; others of them
are still retained in the hands of some actors who think

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

it against their peculiar profit to have them come in
print ; and a third that it was never any great ambition
in me in this kind to be voluminously read."

In the passage just given we have succinctly stated
the three causes which led to the destruction which
overtook the dramatic literature of the Elizabethan
period. The first, due to carelessness, belongs to the
class of fatalities to which manuscript is liable at all
times and under all conditions. Its operations have
necessarily not been confined to the age in which
Hey wood flourished. But the second reason was pecu-
liar to the period. This was the unwillingness of com-
panies to have plays printed which they were in the
habit of acting. The existence of this feeling might
have fairly been inferred from the sudden cessation
which took place after 1600 of the previously rapid
publication of Shakespeare's productions. In that one
year appeared six of his plays. After that date but five
additional pieces came out during his lifetime ; and of
these five, one was 'Pericles,' and another a mangled and
imperfect copy of ' The Merry Wives of Windsor.' It
is a natural if not necessary supposition that the com-
pany which claimed his pieces as their own property
took steps to prevent proceedings which, as they knew
or fancied, would lower for their purposes their pecu-
niary value.

There is more direct testimony. Disregarding two
plays of Shakespeare which were early entered for
publication but were never published until 1623, the
circumstances connected with the appearance of ' Troi-
lus and Cressida' supply what may be deemed convinc-

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

ing evidence upon this very point. That piece was
entered in February, 1G03, on the registers of the
Stationers' Company by James Roberts. But a signifi-
cant qualification was added. It was to be printed by
him "when he hath gotten sufficient authority for it."
Apparently this sufficient authority was never secured.
At any rate the work was not brought out until 1609 and
then it came from another house. Most remarkable is
the publisher's preface to one of his two quartos of that
year, both for the testimony it bore to the lofty estimate
in which Shakespeare's productions were then held and
for the prophecy, now essentially fulfilled, that when lie
was gone and his plays were out of sale, there would be
a scramble for them so great that it would necessitate
for their procurement the setting up of an English
Inquisition. More significant for us in the matter
under consideration are the congratulations expressed
for the escape into print of this particular play and the
charge, by implication, that had it been left to " the
grand possessors' wills" men should have prayed for the
chance of reading his pieces instead of being prayed-for
to buy them. Henslowe's Diary further contributes
apparent proof of the opposition manifested by the com-
panies to publication. Under date of March 19, 1600,
there is a record of forty shillings to the printer to stay
the printing of ' Patient Grissel.'

In truth, it is evident that the publication of a play
by the author without the consent of the actors was
looked upon by many as an immoral act, if indeed it
could not be deemed an illegal one. Heywood is the
dramatic writer of that period who in questions bearing

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

upon the theatrical situation gives us the fullest infor-
mation as to the feelings and practices then prevalent.
His * Rape of Lucrece ' first appeared in print in 1609.
In the address to the reader prefixed to that tragedy he
censured those who had, to employ his own words, " used
a double sale of their labors, first to the stage and after
to the press." He made it distinctly clear that such
as adopted that course subjected themselves by the
very act to the imputation of dishonesty. For him-
self, Heywood denied that he had ever been guilty of
what he seemed to consider a sort of double-dealing in
every sense of the term. He had always been faithful
to the stage, he asserted, and took care to announce
that the particular play, thus prefaced, came out by
consent. The position taken by him may have repre-
sented a general feeling, but it could hardly have been
a universal one. It was pretty certainly that which pre-
vailed among the actors; but among the authors there
must have been some, if not many, who dissented from
it both in word and act.

It is plain that the opposition of the theatrical com-
panies to the publication of the pieces they acted was
an important agency in bringing about the destruc-
tion of plays. Still, in the last analysis the main cause
that produced this result was the indifference of authors
themselves to the fate of what they wrote. The third
reason given by Heywood in the passage cited above,
that it was never any great ambition in him in this kind
to be voluminously read, furnishes a striking picture of
the attitude of the men of that age towards the plays
they produced. Such pieces were written simply to be

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acted. With that all reason for the perpetuation of their
existence ended. He who felt in that way was not likely
to be solicitous about the future of what had already
served fully the purpose for which it was created.
Pieces written on the spur of the moment, and gen-
erally to supply the necessities of the moment, did
not seem to their authors deserving of any special care
for their preservation. The feeling showed itself even
when there was a disposition to deny the justice of the
contemptuous opinion entertained of productions of this
nature. In the prologue to 'All Fools,' published in
1605, Chapman glanced sarcastically at the wits who,
professedly aiming at higher objects, scorned to com-
pose plays. Yet in the dedication of this very comedy
to Sir Thomas Walsingham he says himself that he is
most loath to pass the sight of his friend u with any
such light marks of vanity." It is plain that Webster
had, as there was reason to have, a good opinion of his
tragedy of 'The White Devil.' Yet for publishing it
he half apologized by saying that he claimed for him-
self merely the liberty which others before him had
taken. " Not that I affect praise for it," he continued.
He further conformed to a general sentiment, in which
he did not at heart share, by applying to works of the
kind he was producing the words of Martial, JVos haeo
novimus esse nihil.

The significance of such declarations as the foregoing
cannot be mistaken. No better evidence can well be
offered as to the little regard with which the most pop-
ular authors of the time looked upon their own dramatic
productions. They are precisely of the kind which the

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

editor of a newspaper at the present day might make,
when contrasting his regular daily articles, which had
served their immediate purpose and to which he would
attach no further importance, with some other work of
his of an entirely different character in which he had
embodied the results of earnest thought and ripened
study. This feeling will serve to explain, at least in
part, why so many of the stage plays printed came out
anonymously, especially during the earlier periods.
Their writers took little interest in them and felt no
pride in acknowledging them. Undoubtedly such sen-
timents gradually tended to disappear with the fuller
recognition that both writers and readers came to have
of the value of this sort of literature. For the change
of opinion Ben Jonson, it is safe to assert, was largely
responsible. He had never shared in the depreciatory
estimate which was taken by many of stage plays. As
his reputation and authority increased, a wider cur-
rency was given and greater importance attached to his
views. It is certainly significant that the four earliest
quartos of Shakespeare — the five earliest, if we count
1 Titus Andronicus ' — were not published with his name.
After the appearance of this on ' Love's Labor 's Lost,'
in 1598, it was thenceforth generally attached to the
pieces he wrote and also to some he did not write ; for by
that time it had attained and henceforth retained a com-
mercial value which publishers did not fail to recognize.
The prevalence of this comparatively disparaging
opinion entertained of their productions by playwrights
themselves is of course true only in a general sense.
To it there were inevitably exceptions. Against the
3 33

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

universality of indifference to the fate of their pieces
either the vanity or the just self-appreciation of in-
dividual writers could be trusted to militate, as well
as the interest taken by the public in particular plays.
There are always authors to whom even the meanest
of their productions will seem worthy of preservation.
Such a feeling would naturally be intensified in the case
of works which not only they themselves regarded as
good, but were so regarded by those for whose opinion
they had respect. Both these agencies doubtless con-
tributed to the publication of a number of dramas dur-
ing the Elizabethan period. The request of friends,
later often a fictitious pretext, was a very genuine
motive for such action in the early part of the seven-
teenth century. Chapman in the dedication of his
comedy of ' The Widow's Tears,' which appeared in 1612,
said, and unquestionably said truly, that many desired to
see it printed. This particular reason for publication
which he chanced to avow was certainly one of the
unavowed reasons that led others to follow the same
course.

There was indeed a constant demand on the part
of the public for the privilege of reading the plays
which they had seen acted, or which they had heard
spoken of with praise by those who had seen them
acted. If the writer was unwilling or unable to re-
spond to this desire, publishers could be found who
undertook to gratify it by any means that lay in their
power. This was what led then to the frequent piracy
of popular dramatic productions. Every effort, legiti-
mate or illegitimate, was put forth to secure them for

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

the press. They were taken down in the imperfect
shorthand of the period. They were set forth to sale
so full of blunders and absurd readings that the author
himself was often ashamed to acknowledge them as
his own. Fears of the mutilation his plays would
thus undergo must have constantly haunted the heart
of every dramatist who was honestly solicitous for his
own reputation. It sometimes urged him to print what
otherwise would have been left undisturbed in manu-
script. Chapman, in the dedication of his comedy of
'All Fools,' spoke of it as "the least allowed birth of
my shaken brain." Yet he caused it to be brought out

" Lest by others' stealth it be impressed,
Without my passport, patched by others' wit."

If the fear of what might be done led the author at
times to publish his plays, the same result would occa-
sionally be brought about by his resentment of what
had been done. He would find saddled upon him a
play of his own, to be sure, but in so corrupt a con-
dition that as a matter of self-defence he felt obliged
to bring out a corrected copy. There is satisfactory
evidence as to the indignation felt by the writers of
that time at these pirated publications, against which
they apparently had no remedy. Heywood commented
upon an outrage of this kind in a prologue, spoken at
the last revival before its publication in 1605, of an
early dramatic production of his entitled, ' If you Know
not Me, you Know Nobody.' He severely censured the
play with this name that was then in circulation. He
spoke of it as "the most corrupted copy now imprinted,
which was published without his consent." Its exist-

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ence was due, lie tells us, to the success the piece met
with on its original representation. This was so great

" that some by stenography drew
The plot, put it in print, scarce one word true :
And in that lameness it hath limpt so long,
The author now to vindicate that wrong
Hath took the pains upright upon its feet
To teach it walk."

Reasons of a similar sort he gave for printing 'The
Rape of Lucrece.' "Some of my plays," he wrote,
u have, unknown to me, and without any of my direc-
tion, accidentally come into the printer's hands, and
therefore so corrupt and mangled (copied only by the
ear) that I have been as unable to know them as
ashamed to challenge them." This particular one he
was more willing, in consequence, to bring out in its
proper garb, inasmuch as "the rest have been so
wronged in being published in such savage and ragged
ornaments." It is not impossible, indeed, that the
pirated ' Romeo and Juliet ' of 1597 led the author to
consent to the publication of the 1599 quarto of the
same tragedy.

But after all, publication of plays was the exception
and not the rule. The combined effects of the various
agencies mentioned brought to the press only a very
limited number of the many produced. However eager
might be the demand for their perusal in special cases,
it is clear that both in the eyes of readers, and even of
their own composers, dramatic productions were not
regarded as being of much intrinsic value. They ex-
isted for no higher object than the entertainment of

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

the passing moment. This view, largely held, as we have
seen, by the playwrights themselves, was one which met
the full concurrence of the critical public. The pieces
when printed were read with eagerness ; but they were
not often read with the respect given to other and often
far feebler works. There is, indeed, a curious parallel
between the attitude taken towards the drama by the
men of the latter years of the sixteenth century and
the beginning of the seventeenth, and the attitude
taken towards the novel by the men of the latter part
of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nine-
teenth. Readers of 4 Northanger Abbey ' will remember
how bitterly Miss Austen resented the disparagement of
works of fiction which it was then the fashion to enter-
tain and express. There was ample reason for the
protest she made.

But little of the uncompromising spirit shown by
Miss Austen in the defence of the novel was displayed
by the dramatists of the Elizabethan age when speaking
in behalf of their own productions. In the dedications
of the plays they published there is not unfrequently an
apologetic tone, as if it were rather a presumption on
the part of the author to offer to his patron a work in
itself of so slight value and in general so slightly re-
garded. They were wont to hold up the practice of
persons in stations of authority as proof that it was not
deemed beneath the dignity of the high-born to bestow
their countenance upon what was looked upon by large
numbers as something essentially frivolous. Ancient
rulers were sometimes summoned to enforce this view ;
but the example of the Italian princes was the one most

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commonly cited. Their willingness to receive into favor
pieces of this character was the bulwark behind which
the playwright was ordinarily disposed to shield himself.
That he felt the need of some such protection is mani-
fest. Chapman's dedication of his comedy of ' The
Widow's Tears ' exhibits in the most marked manner
the hesitating attitude assumed by authors themselves
in regard to pieces written for the stage. " Other coun-
trymen,'* he wrote, "have thought the like worthy of
dukes' and princes' acceptations. Injusti Sdegnii, II
Pentamento Amorose, Calisthey Pastor Fido, and so
forth (all being but plays), were all dedicate to princes
of Italy." There is a further distinct reference to the
low estimation in which dramatic productions were gen-
erally held in the reflection with which Chapman went
on to comfort himself. This was to the effect that the
free judgment of his patron "weighs nothing by the
name or form or any vain estimation of the vulgar ; but
will accept acceptable matter as well in plays as in many
less materials masking in more serious titles."

Sentiments of a similar nature continued to find ex-
pression down almost to the closing of the theaters.
They can be seen, for illustration, in the dedications
prefixed respectively to Massinger's 'Duke of Milan,'
printed in 1623, and in his 'New Way to Pay Old
Debts,' printed in 1632; in those prefixed to Hey wood's
1 English Traveller,' and in his * Love's Mistress,' belong-
ing respectively to 1633 and 1636 ; and in the dedica-
tion of Ford's ' Fancies Chaste and Noble,' published in
1638. The general tone pervading these later dedica-
tions, when they touched upon this point, is indicated by

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

that accompanying Dekker's tragi-comedy of ' Match
Me in London.' This was brought out in 1631. His
patron, he says, is also a chorister in the choir of the
muses. "Nor is it any over-daring in me," he added,
" to put a play-book into your hands being a courtier.
Roman poets did so to their emperors, the Spanish now
to their grandees, the Italians to their illustrissimos, and
our own nation to the great ones." Upon modern ears
the deprecatory state of mind thus indicated will make
the greatest impression in the dedication of the Shake-
speare folio of 1623 to the earls of Pembroke and of
Montgomery. The editors humbly admitted that when
they took into consideration the high positions held by
their patrons, they could not but know that their dignity
was too great to descend to the reading of such trifles.

This apologetic attitude, this implied disparagement
of dramatic literature, was by no means confined to the
dedications prefixed to plays. Were such the case, it
might be pleaded that these were purely conventional
utterances. Though they really meant a good deal, a
plausible argument could be made that they meant noth-
ing. But no such explanation will serve for similar
opinions about these productions which at times found
independent expression. In Heywood's address to the
reader which has been quoted, it is noticeable that lie
makes a somewhat disparaging reference to the fact that
the plays of others had been collected and brought out in
volumes.1 It is not the only place where he comments
upon this procedure. In 1631, two years before the
appearance of 'The English Traveller,' he published his

1 See page 28.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

'Fair Maid of the West.' In the preface he expressed
his sentiments in regard to the collections of dramatic pro-
ductions which had then come out. " Virtuous reader,"
he remarks, " my plays have not been exposed to the
public view of the world in numerous sheets and a large
volume, but singly, as thou seest, with great modesty
and small noise." It is clear that the epithet of " virtu-
ous," which he bestowed upon his reader, Hey wood in
his secret heart felt belonged strictly to himself. He
was contemplating with satisfaction and approval his
own conduct. One gets from his words the impression
that in his eyes it partook somewhat of presumption to
publish a play at all. Still, it is implied that if a man
contented himself with bringing out a single one, and
did not go so far as to stuff a volume with a number of
them, he could be pardoned for the offence. In such a
case it was not a serious trespass ; it was only a pecca-
dillo. There were but two authors against whom the
censure here indicated could have been levelled. These
were Shakespeare and Ben Jonson. The only collections
that had yet appeared were of their works.

But there was a sneer conveyed in Heywood's further
remark that his plays did not bear the title of • Works.'
This can refer but to one man. There may have been
some and even many who felt then just as did Ben Jon-
son. But of all the dramatic writers of that time, if we
draw our inferences merely from words and acts, he is
the only one who seems to have had a full conception
of the dignity of his profession, or any solicitude about
the future of his plays. In his eyes the writings of the
poets were, to use his own language, " the fountains and

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

first springs of wisdom.' ' In season and ont of season,
he lost no opportunity to assert their claims to the high-
est recognition. In none of his dedications can be found
the least trace of the feeling that the gift was unworthy
the acceptance of any friend or patron whatever. In
accordance with this conviction the first collected edi-
tion of his writings, consisting mainly of dramas, bore
the title of * Works.' It appeared in 1616. No claim so
audacious for productions of this character had ever been
put forth before. It confounded both friends and ene-
mies. For a long time his conduct had no imitators ; at
least, whatever imitation there was came from publishers
and not from authors. The title-page of the folio of 1623
bears simply the words ' Mr. William Shakespeare's Com-
edies Histories and Tragedies,' though on one of the inner
title-pages, removed from general attention, 4 The Works
of Shakespeare ' is put down in addition. * Works ' was
prefixed for a purpose to the Marston volume of 1633 ;
but the Beaumont and Fletcher Folio of 1647 bore the
title of ' Comedies and Tragedies '; that of 1679, of ' Fifty
Comedies and Tragedies.'

At the present time we can hardly understand the
feeling which would deny the title of ' Works ' to dramas
like those of Jonson, and give it without grudging to
dry and commonplace treatises upon matters in which
the human mind has now lost all the little interest it
ever had. But it was then a very genuine and earnest
feeling. Jonson was unsparingly ridiculed even by men
of his own profession for calling his plays 'Works.' The
wonder at the boldness of it lasted long after his death.
It took indeed many years to reconcile the minds of men

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

to the extreme position that trifles so slight in character
should receive so dignified a name. As late as 1659,
Thomas Pecke, in an epigram addressed to Davenant,
referred to Jonson as

" That Ben, whose head deserved the Roscian bays,
Was the first gave the name of works to plays." *

In this instance the author goes on to add that the
merit of the writings justified the use of such a term.
But this was not, or at least had not been the general
opinion. By the majority the title of ' Works ' was re-
garded as a presumptuous application of the word to
things which were simply designed to live their little
day and then be forgotten.

Jonson had defied not merely public opinion, but the
opinion of the men of his own profession in collecting
his plays and setting them forth in a single large volume.
It is certainly an allowable suggestion, if it be not
deemed a probable supposition, that it was the publica-
tion by him of the folio of 1616 that led, or at least
encouraged Heming and Condell to bring out the
Shakespeare folio of 1623. Jonson's action had been un-
precedented. It had met with a criticism which might
well have deterred imitation. But the growing influ-
ence of the man who was making his way to the position
of acknowledged autocrat of letters could hardly have
failed to affect the course of the friends and fellows of
the man who, while he had been living, had been re-
garded as the supreme dramatist of his time. Still the
practice never became general. The example of Jonson
was but little followed in his own age ; in no instance

1 British Bibliographer, vol. ii. p. 312.

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

was it followed by a single one of the dramatists them-
selves. It was his old comrades who brought out Shake-
speare's plays ; it was a business enterprise that led to
the only other undertaking of the sort which was at-
tempted in the seventeenth century. Beaumont had
been in his grave more than thirty years and Fletcher
more than twenty before any volume containing their
pieces appeared. Massinger was the next of the Eliza-
bethans whose complete works were brought out; but
it was not till 1759 that this task was accomplished.
No edition of the writings of any early Elizabethan
dramatist, besides these mentioned and Lyly's, made
its appearance until the nineteenth century.

The facts here given, the opinions here recorded make
one point perfectly clear. They demonstrate distinctly
the truth of the proposition with which the discussion
of the subject opened. Much which is often reckoned
as peculiar to Shakespeare was common. Much which
has seemed strange in his attitude towards his own
works was nothing more than the attitude of practically
all his contemporaries. The further and final question
now arises. Did Shakespeare himself share in the esti-
mate of the value of dramatic production entertained
generally by the men of his time and even by the men
of his own profession ? Was his conduct influenced by
the feelings largely prevalent in his own class ? As
this is a matter which can never be determined deci-
sively, the opportunity for argument is endless, and the
conclusions reached will be pretty sure to vary with the
predispositions or prejudices with which the inquiry is
begun. Notl ling more will be attempted here than to

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

state as briefly and as fairly as possible the leading con-
siderations on both sides.

On the surface everything seems to indicate that
Shakespeare held the view expressed by Heywood in
regard to pieces written for stage representation as op-
posed to that entertained by Jonson. If we judge his
opinions by his conduct there would hardly seem any
question at all. We might indeed go further and feel
ourselves justified in maintaining that, like so many of
his class, he was indifferent to the fate which might
befall his plays; that he did not look upon them as
serious performances, and that he had little belief in
their essential greatness and little confidence in their
perpetuity. We should have the further right to infer
that he reckoned his two principal poems as superior to
his dramatic productions, at least to his first dramatic
productions. As early as 1592, we know from the
pamphlet which Robert Greene wrote upon his death-
bed that the theatrical companies were turning aside
from other playwrights to secure the services of Shake-
speare. Something therefore he must have accom-
plished by that time to have made him so general an
object of popular favor. Yet, in the dedication to the
Earl of Southampton of his ' Venus and Adonis/ pub-
lished in 1593, he declared that poem to be " the first
heir of his invention." By itself the remark may be
explained without implying that he was expressing a
comparatively disparaging opinion of the dramatic pieces
he had up to that time produced. Still, this is its natural
interpretation.

Furthermore it is an interpretation in full harmony

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

with the course of conduct he pursued in regard to his
plays. Of these, seventeen appeared in some form dur-
ing his lifetime; if we include ' Pericles,' eighteen. Cer-
tain of these were brought out in so imperfect and
indeed so atrociously mangled a state that it is quite
impossible to suppose that they were subjected to the
revision of Shakespeare or for that matter to the revision
of any one. Nor in the case of the best of the quartos
is there any evidence that he was privy to their publica-
tion. This attitude of indifference is made more strik-
ing by the fact that nineteen of his dramas never saw
the light till after their author's death. Consequently
Shakespeare was so far from supervising the printing of
more than half of his plays, that he never saw them in
any printed form whatever. It cannot be maintained
that he was prevented by stress of circumstances or by
hurry of business from attending to their publication.
He left London, it is generally believed, and took up
his residence at Stratford somewhere about 1611. There
he led, so far as we can discover, the life of a country
gentleman. He interested himself in local affairs. He
was concerned either for or against the enclosure of the
common lands of Welcombe. He entertained the clergy-
man at New Place and saw to it that he was furnished
with a quart of sack and a quart of claret. He bought
and sold property. To his material possessions he at-
tended with circumspection and diligence. But as to
what became of those productions which we now regard
as the culminating effort of English genius, he seems
not to have felt the slightest sort of anxiety or have
given himself the slightest sort of trouble. It is accord-

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

ingly manifest from the course he pursued that Shake-
speare felt and consequently acted as did in general the
other dramatists of his time.

So much for the arguments which are adduced to sup-
port this view. But there are considerations which lead
to a conclusion directly opposite. It is hardly conceiva-
ble, in the first place, that Shakespeare could have been
unaware of his own greatness. He certainly could not
have been unconscious of his superiority in that one
form of literary production which, however lightly es-
teemed by the critical and the learned, appealed never-
theless most potently to the taste of both the educated
and the uneducated multitude. Had he felt any doubt
upon the subject, the general estimate which had made
him as much the favorite of his own age as he has be-
come the admiration of the ages which have followed,
would have disabused his mind of any such notion.
Furthermore, he could not have failed to observe that
his dramatic production, so far as it was printed, met
with as much favor in the closet as it did on the stage.
There its success rivalled that of his two principal
poems.

The facts in this matter which bibliography records
are indeed well worth consideration. The acre of Shake-
speare was not one. in which the English language, with
what it contained and conveyed, stood high in the esti-
mation of scholars. Francis Meres gives us a glimpse
of the feelings of such men in the list he furnishes of
the principal literatures of the world. These according
to him were eight in number. It is noticeable that
while Italian, French, and Spanish are specified, English

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

is not included. The population of the kingdom too
was then far from large, nor was education widely dif-
fused. There was in consequence, as contrasted with
our own times, a very limited number of persons to read
anything ; of this limited class, there was then, as always,
a comparatively insignificant number to read poetry.
Yet before his death Shakespeare had seen his play of
1 Richard II.,' first printed in 1597, pass through four edi-
tions ; his play of 4 Richard HI./ which appeared the same
year, pass through five ; and his first part of * Henry IV.,'
which came out the same year, pass also through five.
Between 1600 and 1608 inclusive the pirated copy of
' Henry V.,' went through three editions. Three and pos-
sibly four were also the number of impressions of ' Romeo
and Juliet' before 1616, if we reckon among them the
imperfect pirated quarto of 1597. Again, if we include
the copy of the first form of 'Hamlet,' printed in 1603,
that play by 1611 had passed through four editions and
possibly five. This continued popularity with the read-
ing public exhibited no signs of abatement during Shake-
speare's life. The editions which followed make it clear
that it did not cease with his death. No other dramatist
of that early period can show any such record. Shake-
speare would have been singularly obtuse had he failed
to recognize his own popularity, and singularly self-
depreciatory had he been disposed to look upon it as
unworthily bestowed.

There is not only no evidence that he had any such
disposition, but whatever evidence there is tends to in-
spire the contrary belief. True it is he did not publish
his own dramatic works. But that is far more likely to

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

have been due to the consideration he entertained for
the feelings of others than to any disparaging opinion he
held of the value of his dramatic productions or to indif-
ference to their fate. As an actor he might naturally
sympathize with the views about publication of the men
of his profession, and he would be sure to respect what
they deemed their rights. So long, therefore, as his asso-
ciates regarded the printing of plays as being, in Hey-
woods phrase, "against their peculiar profit," he would
refrain, whatever were his own opinion, from any under-
taking that would threaten the value of what they con-
sidered their property. But this does not militate
against the view that he contemplated the publication of
his plays when with the lapse of time objections of this
sort would inevitably lose all their potency. It is indeed
a natural inference from the words of Heming and
Condell that he purposed such action. It is indicated
in the regret they express in the dedication of his works
that it had not been his fate " to become the executor to
his own writings." In the address to the readers they
confess that it were worthy to have been wished that the
author had lived to oversee his own productions, and
that it was to be lamented that he had been " by death
departed from that right." Such words do not prove
that Shakespeare intended to bring out an edition of his
plays ; but they suggest, if they do not imply, that it was
a project he had entertained.

Such, in brief, are the arguments on both sides. But
if it were ever Shakespeare's intention to publish his
works, we know too well that it was never carried out.
His text therefore suffered from the same agencies which

ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS

impaired the correctness of nearly all the productions of
the dramatists of that period. It was never subjected
to any adequate revision, and assuredly not to its author's.
It has come down to us, therefore, just as have the works
written in the age of manuscript, in a condition more or
less corrupt. To restore it, to bring it back to the state
in which it came from the writer's hands, has been the
task of centuries. The undertaking has been attended
throughout with great friction; there are those who
think its accomplishment, so far as it has been accom-
plished, has been largely due to this friction. Certain
it is that the settlement of the text of Shakespeare has
given rise to bitter quarrels, in which writers of the
greatest eminence and scholars of the profoundest learn-
ing have taken part. To trace the various steps which
have led to the breaking out of these controversies, and
to record the events which marked the progress of the
most famous one of them all will be the subject of the
following chapters.

CHAPTER III

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

It is evident from the facts given in the preceding
chapter that, whatever may have been Shakespeare's in-
dividual sentiments, his practice conformed to that of
his contemporaries. The same agencies which affected
the conduct of his brother dramatists and the fortunes
of what they wrote operated also more or less upon him
and his works. As they revised and recast previous
pieces, so did he. As they entered into partnership
with other writers in the composition of plays, so did
he. As their productions have come down to us in
varying degrees of textual excellence, or as it might
sometimes seem, of textual corruption, so have his. As
some of theirs have been lost, it is to be feared that
some of his may have suffered the same fate. We know
from Meres that a play of his called ' Love 's Labor 's
Won,' had been produced before 1598. It is a title that
would serve for a large majority of all the comedies
which have ever been written. Conjecture finds it still
existing in several of his pieces which go under other
names, notably in < All 's Well that Ends Well.' This
may be so ; we can never be absolutely sure that it is so.
One thing is fairly certain. Had not Heming and Con-
dell performed the pious duty of collecting and printing

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

the works of their old comrade, we are more than likely
to have missed seeing some of the dramas which made
their appearance in the folio of 1623 ; and included
in the list of those then first published are such trage-
dies as ' Julius Caesar,' ' Antony and Cleopatra,' * Corio-
lanus,' and ' Macbeth,' and such comedies as * Twelfth
Night,' 4 As You Like It,' ■ The Winter's Tale,' and < The
Tempest.'

We can never form a correct estimate of the difficul-
ties which beset the establishment of the text of Shake-
speare, or discern clearly the causes which have brought
about the diversities that prevail in different editions
until we have mastered the conditions which from the
outset have confronted and still confront him who as-
sumes the office of editor. Let us gain in the first place
a full understanding of the situation. The plays which
are attributed to Shakespeare in modern editions are
usually thirty-seven. Besides these there have been
occasionally added to the list two — * Edward III.' and
4 The Two Noble Kinsmen ' — in which he is thought by
some to have borne a part. But the number just given
is the one ordinarily found. Of these thirty-seven, all,
with the exception of ' Pericles,' appeared in this first
collected edition. In it they are printed with varying
degrees of accuracy. None of them indeed could be
expected to show the perfect state in which a work is
presumably found that has been subjected to the au-
thor's own revision. Still, some of them present a text
which, comparatively speaking, may be called good. But
while this is true of individual plays, it must be said of
the folio of 1623 that as a whole the work is very care-
rs 1

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

lessly printed, in an age where careful printing was a
duty not often taken very seriously.

AVere we indeed to confine ourselves to the condition
in which certain of the plays appear, it would be well
within the limits of legitimate vituperation to call the
proof-reading abominable. The punctuation in fact
tends at times to create the impression that there was no
proof-reading at all. In the exhibition made of this the
disorder occasionally swells into a wild riot. Semicolons
exchange places with interrogation points, and periods
appear in the middle of sentences. In the case of
commas especially, the lawlessness displayed by the
type-setters would give exaggerated conceptions of hu-
man depravity to certain men of our day who seem to
look upon the particular punctuation they employ as
being somehow divinely inspired. Commas turn up in
the folio of 1623 in the most unexpected and surprising
places. They appear to have been regarded as a general
representative of all the other points ; for they not un-
frequently do duty for colons, semicolons, and periods.
Moreover, while they often appear in places where they
have no business whatever to be, they are just as often
absent from places where their presence is desirable if
not essential.

Still, many of the most important defects of this edi-
tion cannot be laid to the score of punctuation, even
though, in consequence of the way it has been done, sen-
tences are sometimes run together, or on the contrary
are broken up into meaningless parts. There are other
characteristics which are just as bad, and some which are
much worse. Of the former we have an example in the

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

not unfrequent printing of verse as prose or of the ar-
rangement of the verse in lines by which the proper
measure is destroyed. Of the latter are the defects
which disturb or destroy the sense. Words show them-
selves which are not known elsewhere to the speech.
Again we meet with familiar words which in the place
where they are found convey no meaning. In many
cases it is easy to detect the blunder which caused the
substitution of one term for another. Other readings
present difficulties by no means easy to overcome ; and
there will be ample opportunity given later to observe
how human ingenuity lias been enabled to solve several
of the most perplexing of these problems. But there
remain and probably always will remain instances where
the right reading will continue unsettled. The most
famous single instance is perhaps the crux in 'Timon,'
where the hero says to his servant, as the words appear
in the original and only authority, —

" Go, bid all my Friends againe,1
Lucius, Lucullus, and Seinpronius Vllorxa : All."

The chances are that the incomprehensible " Vllorxa "
will furnish a subject for difference of opinion during all
future time, as it has already in the past.

Here, then, we encounter the first difficulty in secur-
ing the ideal text. For thirty-six of the plays the folio
of 1623 is a principal, if not the principal authority;
for eighteen of the thirty-six it is practically the only
authority. Yet it is a work which was printed with
little if any editorial supervision and with no adequate
proof-reading. It contains words that have never been

1 Act iii., .scene 4.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

known to exist, and words used in senses they have never
been known to have ; sentences that have the double
meaning of an oracle, and sentences that convey no
meaning at all. Here we have at once opened before us
a wide field for conjectural emendation, into which men
with the least judgment have naturally rushed with the
most audacity. Indeed, while the capability of the hu-
man mind to misunderstand what is plain and to inter-
pret absurdly what is obscure has never been made the
subject of exact scientific investigation, the most ample
data for measuring and testing its powers in those direc-
tions can be gathered from the various proposals which
have been made in all seriousness to correct the text of
Shakespeare. But even under the most favorable con-
ditions uniformity cannot be expected. In the case of
two men of the same degree of cultivation, in whom
unite fulness of knowledge and keenness of insight, dif-
ferences of view depending upon the personal equation
are sure to arise. There are passages where the right
reading must rest upon conjecture ; and conjecture im-
plies variation of text. We can have sufficient confi-
dence in the contrariety of human opinion and the per-
versity of human nature to feel absolute assurance that
in cases of doubt the judgment of no one man will ever
command the concurrence of all other men.

This is the first difficulty. A text has come down to
us in the collected edition which in some instances is
fairly good, in others more or less corrupt. But, as
if this were not enough, a new element of disturbance
thrusts itself in. Fifteen of these thirty-six plays had
been published separately in quarto form before the

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

appearance of the folio of 1623. The originals out of
which two more, included in that volume, had been
built, had been also long in print. These plays brought
out in quarto form sometimes went through several edi-
tions. The text of such varied naturally, to some ex-
tent, from each other; in two instances — ' Hamlet ' and
4 Romeo and Juliet ' — they varied widely. The differ-
ences between these have therefore always to be consid-
ered. But behind this there is something more impor-
tant still. Between the text as seen in a quarto and that
of the same play in the folio there were frequently wide
discrepancies. Passages found in the one would not ap-
pear in the other. Even entire scenes would be lacking.
Between the reading contained in the same passages
there would sometimes be great variations. Hence arose
at once a conflict between the original authorities.

Heming and Condell, as is well known, attacked these
quartos in the preface to the folio of 1623. They assured
the reader that he had previously been "abused with
divers stolen and surreptitious copies maimed and de-
formed by the frauds and stealths of injurious impostors
that exposed them." This was unquestionably true in
some instances. These plays, they went on to say, were
now offered to the view of men " cured and perfect of
their limbs ; and all the rest absolute in numbers as he "
— that is, the author — " expressed them.'' They fur-
ther implied, though they did not directly assert, that the
text they gave was taken from the manuscript of Shake-
speare himself. After reading assurances so promising,
it is somewhat disheartening to contrast what they
furnished with what they said they would furnish. In

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

spite of the impression they gave that they followed the
reading of the original manuscripts, they printed several
of the plays from the very quartos they denounced. In
other cases the text of the quarto is as good as, if not
superior to, that of the one they set forth. Hence we
cannot assume that the folio represents the final reading
which the author had chosen to adopt. In consequence
it is not always easy to tell which in any given case is
the better authority. If quartos and folios vary, the
modern editions will be fairly sure to vary, one following
in some instances the reading of the folio, the other that
of the quarto.

The discrepancies between these early authorities are
susceptible of easy explanation in the situation which
then prevailed. The text printed would be taken from
play-house copies. Between these there would be sure
to spring up differences in process of time. The copies
themselves, after having been furnished to the theater,
would be subjected to any alterations which the author,
in conjunction with the actors, might at different times
think it desirable or essential to introduce. Scenes
would be lengthened ; scenes would be shortened ;
scenes would be thrown out altogether. But in addi-
tion the text would almost inevitably suffer from that
depravation which every manuscript undergoes by the
mere fact of its being a manuscript. Imperfect transcrip-
tion, unintentional substitution would affect the language
and often the meaning of passages. But besides these
undesigned alterations changes were likely to be made
in the course of time with which the author himself may
have had nothing to do. Matter would be added as new

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

circumstances arose to suggest new allusions or appeal to
new emotions. Other matter would be struck out for the
sake of retrenching particular scenes or for any special
reason connected with the exigencies of the theater on
any particular occasion. Changes once made would stand
a fair chance of being always retained. Agencies like
these would always threaten the integrity of the text so
long as its reproduction lay exclusively in the hands of
copyists. Accordingly we can see that in dealing with
certain of the plays of Shakespeare we are in the same
situation as when dealing with the works of an ancient
author of which several manuscripts exist, agreeing in
the main but often differing widely in details. We can
thereby get a glimpse of the nature of the problem which
presents itself, as also of the difficulties of the task which
requires us to reconstruct, out of the materials described,
the genuine text.

Examples either of slight or gross corruptions caused
by imperfect transcription of the copy sent to the press,
or by the blunder of type-setters, need not detain us here.
They will be found in profusion in the course of this vol-
ume. But there is a numerous class of petty discrepan-
cies which demand recognition, though they deserve no
extended notice. They result from the existence of two
readings furnished by the original authorities, of which
either makes perfectly good sense and would be accepted
by all, were it not for the occurrence of the other. Out
of scores and scores of instances that could be cited, take
two perfectly well-known passages from 'Hamlet.' Ba-
ron' that play appeared in the folio of 1623, it was printed
Singly in quarto form in 1603, in 1604, in 1605, and in

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

1611. In the folios a well-known speech of Hamlet
reads as follows :

u There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in our philosophy."

But in all the quartos these same lines read :

" There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Did Shakespeare himself write our or your? Which is
here the correct word ? It is easy to see that this is a
point upon which opinions are sure to divide. As a
general rule, the mind of any particular person will
be swayed, perhaps unconsciously, to prefer the form
with which he has first chanced to become familiar.

Take again the two lines in the speech of the ghost,
which in the quarto of 1603 and the folio of 1623 appear
thus :

" And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine."

In the quartos of 1604, 1605, and 1611, "the fretful por-
pentine " is replaced by " the fearful porpentine." The
same reason for disagreement in choice applies here as in
the foregoing case. It is in differences of this sort that
a large proportion of the variations between editions of
Shakespeare consists. They are not important. Very
rarely do they affect the sense seriously. But in con-
junction with the other causes specified, they present an
impassable barrier to uniformity of text. So potent are
they that they not only affect the action of the men of
different periods, but they affect the action of the same
man at different periods of his own life. Successive edi-

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

tions of Shakespeare put forth by the same editor show-
frequent variations in the readings, due to change of opin-
ion. So far, therefore, are we from having a text estab-
lished which will command the assent of all men and of
all time, that none has yet been produced which com-
mands the assent of any one man at different times.

These are difficulties inherent in the nature of the
matter to be edited. There have been and still con-
tinue to be obstacles in the way of uniformity arising
from difference of judgment, of knowledge, and of taste
in those who set out to edit. The language of the
dramatist himself has contributed and still contributes
to some extent to variation of text and misunderstand-
ing of meaning. As a result of the changes which go
on constantly in every speech, some of Shakespeare's
words and the significations of other of his words have
become obsolete. Here was and is a fruitful source of
misapprehension and error. Another peril threatening
the right reading was the change in grammatical forms
and constructions. This is a difficulty even more formi-
dable to overcome, and it has not been entirely removed
even at the present day. It is not strange, in the little
knowledge possessed by the first editors of the historic
development of English speech, that they should have
deemed Shakespeare guilty of bad grammar when he
was simply conforming his usage to the grammar of
his own time. Their poor opinion of his qualifica-
tions is not of consequence; but when the result of
it causes disturbance of the text, it matters a good
deal. To show how variations of reading arise from
this ignorance, and how lines of linguistic investigation

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

converge in establishing the true one, can be brought
out sharply by one notable illustration which concerns
accidence.

Of the three leading dialects into which the English of
English literature was early divided, that of the Midland
has become the standard speech. In numerous ways,
however, it has been affected by the dialects of the
North and of the South, with which it came into con-
tact on its two sides. Especially was this true of the
former. In the illustration here chosen, the dialect of
the Midland, especially of the East Midland — and in
this instance of the Southern also — had in the third
person singular of the present tense of the verb the
termination -th. On the other hand, in the dialect of
the North, this person ended in -s. Hence, in one
part of the country men said " he doth," in another
" he does." By the end of the sixteenth century the
latter termination had been so successful in encroaching
upon the one which was characteristic of the Midland
that it had gained a recognized position in literature.
The two endings flourished side by side. Shakespeare
and his contemporaries used either indifferently. But
since his day, the Northern form in -s has practically
supplanted the Midland form in -th, both in the collo-
quial and the literary speech. The latter has been
mainly kept alive, so far as it is alive, by its occur-
rence in the translation of the Bible, where it is the
only form employed.

An altogether different story has to be told of the
terminations of the plural in the same tense. In it
could be included also the terminations of the second

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

person singular, which in the North was -s and in the
Midland -st. In the latter dialect the plural ending of
the present was -en. This after dropping its consonant
became and has since remained the standard form in lit-
erature. The result had already been reached in Shake-
speare's time. When the full form -en was employed, as
frequently by Spenser, it was distinctly felt to be an ar-
chaism. The corresponding terminations of the plural
were -th in the dialect of the South and -s in the dialect
of the North. Both existed in the literature of Shake-
speare's time, but only on a comparatively limited scale.
The Southern plural in -th had but little recognition,
though it survived in sporadic instances to a late period
in the literature of the seventeenth century. The use
of it by Shakespeare and his contemporaries, so far as it
was used at all, was mainly con lined to the words hath
and doth. The northern plural in -s was, however, dis-
tinctly more common. Especially was this true of col-
loquial speech and of the literature which represents
colloquial speech.

Our lack of familiarity with the extent of its employ-
ment is due to the fact that in modern editions of our
earlier writers it has been reformed, wherever possible,
(in I, of the text, and replaced by the present grammatical
terminations. In the Elizabethan period the ending may
be said to have been making a struggle for establishment
and general acceptance. But the fight was a losing one,
Np such good fortune attended it as befell its correspond-
ing dialectic third person singular. Though met with
a, fair degree of frequency it is pretty certain that there
were writers who were averse to employing it. Conse-

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

quently it tended to be more and more disused as time
went on. By the end of the first quarter of the seven-
teenth century it had largely disappeared as a recognized
form. In Shakespeare's plays, as found in the first folio,
it occurs about two hundred times. To make up this
number are not included the frequent cases in which two
nouns joined by a copulative conjunction appear as the
subject of a verb in the third person singular. This
usage common enough in Shakespeare and Milton, to say
nothing of other authors, continues still to be employed
by the best writers, though grammarians seem generally
unaware of the fact.

When in the eighteenth century attention was directed
to the text of Shakespeare, the existence of a third
person plural in -s had come to be entirely forgotten.
The termination in consequence, in spite of its frequency,
was regarded as a mere blunder of the compositors.
Whenever possible, it was quietly dropped. When this
could not be done directly, changes were made in the
structure of the sentence sufficient to allow it to be dis-
carded. The practice began even as early as the second
folio. In « The Merchant of Venice,' for instance, where
Shylock comments on Bassanio's unwillingness to have
Antonio seal to the proposed bond, his words appear as
follows in the original authorities, the two quartos of
1600, and the folio of 1623 :

" O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others." *

1 Act i., scene 3.

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

Even at that early date teaches was apparently too much
for the unknown corrector avIio made the alterations
found in the folio of 1632. The meter, however, required
[i word of two syllables. So to bring about a more satis-
factory condition of things, dealings was carefully changed
into dealing, to the assumed benefit of the grammar and
to the certain injury of the sense. So it continued until
the time of Pope, who took another way out of the
difficulty. After discarding the ending in -s he inserted
a word of his own and made the line appear in this form :

" Whose own bard dealings teach them to suspect."

One of these two latter readings given was followed in
every edition from the folio of 1632 to the edition of
1773. In this Steevens restored the only really author-
ized text. He doubtless considered it a grammatical
blunder of the author's; but he was not so devoted
to Shakespeare as to feel any regret at his having
committed it.

But such instances were comparatively rare. Ac-
cordingly the doctrine of the innate and inordinate
depravity of the Elizabethan printing-house Avas gen-
erally accepted as a sufficient explanation of the occur-
rence of the termination in -s. Even at this late day
the view continues to find advocates. According to
the belief of some, the type-setters of that early time
had a wild desire to append the ending in -s to the
plural form of the present tense on every slightest
pretext. I>y the connivance or indifference of proof*
renders this was permitted to remain. Successive edi-
tions perpetuated the original blunder. It is asking

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

rather too much of human credulity to accept the view
that errors of this kind should not only be constantly
perpetrated but should pass unchallenged and uncor-
rected in later editions. The truth is that the type-
setters of the earlier period had the not uncommon
fortune of knowing more about the grammatical usages
of their own time than later commentators. There is
no object indeed in retaining, when unnecessary, in
modern texts, a form which survives only in the speech
of the illiterate, and because of that fact would fre-
quently jar upon the educated reader's enjoyment with-
out affording any counterbalancing benefit. But while
making the change it is not necessary to impute to
grammatical inaccuracy upon the part of the author
what is really due to the ignorance of the editor.

There are indeed places where change cannot be
carried into effect. Passages exist where no linguistic
surgery can repair the damage wrought to modern con-
ceptions of grammar, nor can the burden be thrust upon
the shoulders of the long-enduring compositor. The
ryme requires imperatively the plural in -s. One of
the lyrics in ' Cymbeline,' for instance, opens with the
following lines :

" Hark, hark ! the lark at heavren's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies." x

Here responsibility for the assumed singular but real
plural lies cannot be imputed to any one but the author.
To those unfamiliar with the language of the period only

1 Act ii., scene 3.

DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS

one of two courses lay open. Shakespeare was either
ignorant of grammar or defiant of it. His action was
accordingly judged variously. By the sterner souls
devoted to syntax he was censured for grammatical
inaccuracy. By his thorough-going devotees he was
commended for having risen superior to grammar. So
great a genius as he was altogether above considerations
so trivial. As a matter of fact, censure or praise was
equally out of place. In employing teaches and lies
and cares and numerous other words as plurals Shake-
speare was merely conforming to an accepted grammati-
cal usage of his time. In this particular his practice
was largely the practice of his immediate predecessors
and actual contemporaries. Undoubtedly the. fashion
of employing it was not followed by some and was
fated to die out speedily. But that he could not
know. Shakespeare is no more to be condemned for
using the plural in -s than he is for using the singu-
lar; no more than would a writer of our time be ex-
posed to the charge of being ungrammatical because
he chose to employ doth instead of does.

Such examples of legitimate grammatical variation,
often not understood, necessarily tended in the past to
bring about variation in the editions of the poet. They
moreover indicate the hopelessness of ever expecting
absolute uniformity in the future. A further example
drawn from the very construction just under consid-
eration will suffice to show the differences that must
inevitably manifest themselves when between two read-
ings lies a choice dependent not so much upon the dif-
ference of meaning con veyed as upon the difference of
& 65

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

personal tastes in the editors. In the celebrated speech
of Ulysses to Achilles in ' Troilus and Cressida,' he is
represented in the folio of 1623 as saying, —

11 The welcome ever smiles,
And farewells goes out sighing." l

In the quarto edition of the same play farewells appears
as farewell. Consequently in one authority goes is a
plural, in the other it is a singular. Those who prefer
to follow the reading of the folio will naturally alter in
the modern text goes to go, retaining the idea though
not the grammatical form. Those who prefer the sub-
ject in the singular will adhere to the reading found in
the quarto.

1 Act iii., scene 3.

CHAPTER IV

THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE

The assertion was made at the very outset that there
never has been and that there never will be an edition of
Shakespeare the text of which will command universal
assent. This does not imply the existence of differ-
ence in matters of vital importance. It means varia-
tion, to be sure, on a somewhat extensive scale ; but it
is variation confined mainly to petty details. Both the
fact and the reason for the fact have been made evident
in the foregoing pages. But though the text of Shake-
speare can never be expected to reach absolute uni-
formity, its history shows that it has tended steadily to
approach it. Already differences which once prevailed
have largely disappeared with the increase in knowledge
of the vocabulary and grammar of the Elizabethan pe-
riod, with the clearing up of obscure allusions, once in-
deed familiar but now long forgotten, and with the
explanation of passages at first sight apparently inex-
plicable, but which in answer to repeated inquiries as to
their meaning yield at last what the dramatist himself
terms pregnant replies. Towards uniformity, therefore,
we have a right to believe that the text will continue
to move until variation has been reduced to its lowest
possible limit.

It is manifest that in the obscurity which at first pre-

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

vailed elements of controversy existed in abundance
which would be sure in time to give birth to contro-
versy itself. That in turn would be fomented by the
general ignorance which was then found even among
the highly educated of matters which are now perfectly
familiar to the merest tyro in Shakespearean study.
But while these agencies in creating strife existed from
the beginning, they remained in a latent state until the
steadily increasing interest in the works of the dramatist
stirred them at last into activity. It is not until we
reach the age of Pope and Theobald that we find our-
selves in the presence of that outbreak of contention
which has been going on uninterruptedly from their day
to our own. All in consequence that is necessary to do
at this point is to recite briefly the facts connected with
the editions which up to that period successively ap-
peared, and to recount the efforts that were put forth,
so far as any were put forth, to effect the restoration of
the text to its presumed original integrity.

So far as the seventeenth century is concerned, it may
be said that hardly anything was done. During it, three
editions followed that of 1G23. In the one which came
out nine years later occurred the first essay in the direc-
tion of attempting anything in the shape of emendation
— leaving out of consideration occasional changes in the
quartos which may perhaps have been intended as cor-
rections. The alterations found in it, though not nu-
merous comparatively speaking, were too numerous, and
their character was too marked, to permit them as a
whole to be regarded as the result of accident, whatever
might be true of individual instances. About the value

THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE

of the changes then made, involving as they do, the
comparative value of the two earliest editions, there
arose at one time a sort of petty controversy amid the
wide-waging war which has been going on for nearly
two centuries in reference to the text of Shakespeare.
It only needs to be said here that there is now a substan-
tial agreement that if some of the alterations of the folio
of 1632 are for the better, the majority of them are for
the worse. They may, in a few instances, have been
based upon the authority of readings which the reviser
had heard from the mouth of actors. In general, they are
pretty certainly conjectural emendations of his own. The
independent authority of the edition is therefore slight.

The edition of 1632 satisfied all the demand which
existed for these dramatic works during the stormy
period that followed. The typographical excellence of
the volume had indeed displeased some of the religious
fanatics of the time. Milton's tribute to Shakespeare
had been prefixed to it ; but the attitude of Prynne in
his ' Histriomastix,' published the year after, represents
more accurately the view taken by the extremists of the
Puritan party. This most violent of controversialists
complained that more than forty thousand play-books
had been printed and sold within the two years previous,
they being more vendible, he tells us, than the choicest
sermons. The abuses of the time were still further em-
phasized by him in a marginal comment to the effect
that Shakespeare's dramas had been printed on the best
crown paper, far better than most Bibles.1 But the
opening of the theaters after the return of the Stuarts

1 Prynne'a 'Histriomastix/ Epistle Dedicatory, and address 'To the
Christian Render.'

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

and the consequent reviving interest in stage repre-
sentation led to a renewed demand for the writings
of the one man who, even when least in favor with pro-
fessional critics, was instinctively felt by the mass of
readers to be the greatest of English dramatists. So
followed the edition of 1663. It was printed from the
preceding folio, occasionally correcting some of its
errors, more often contributing new errors of its own.
The reprint of it from the same plates which came
out the next year was remarkable for containing seven
additional plays, in some copies occupying the begin-
ning of the book, in others the end. Four of the
seven had been brought out in quarto during Shake-
speare's lifetime, with his name on the title-page as
their author. These were 4 Sir John Oldcastle,' with
the date of 1600 ; the ' London Prodigal,' with that of
1605 ; « A Yorkshire Tragedy,' with that of 1608 ; and
' Pericles,' with that of 1609. The three others had on
the title-pages the initials of W. S. as the author. The
letters naturally gave to the reader the impression that
these pieces were the work of Shakespeare ; but they
did not commit the publisher to a direct falsehood,
especially as there was then nourishing another drama-
tist whose Christian and family names began with the
same letters. These three were 'Locrine,' printed in
1595 ; the • Chronicle History of Thomas, Lord Crom-
well,' printed in 1602, but not carrying the initials of
W. S. till the edition of 1613 ; and ' The Puritan, or the
Widow of Watling-street,' printed in 1607. The entire
seven continued to hold their place in all subsequent
editions of Shakespeare until that of Pope.

THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE

After the volume of 1663-1664 followed, in 1685,
the fourth and last of the folios. This was reprinted
from the preceding folio and differed from it in no
essential particulars save for the worse. The spell-
ing was somewhat modernized, and additional errors
crept in to increase the previous stock. The deteriora-
tion which had been going steadily on since the folio of
1623 was here distinctly aggravated. In none of these
editions had there been any genuine attempt to edit the
text. The later folios were really nothing more than
bookseller's reprints. Subject to no thorough editorial
supervision they had become worse with every succes-
sive impression. To the almost invariable retention of
previous errors had been added new ones which the
carelessness of type-setters, the indifference of proof-
readers, and the ignorant carefulness of occasional re-
visers had united in contributing to the existing number.
The original quartos, too, had by this time largely dis-
appeared. Few new ones came to take their place,
though in the case of certain pieces frequently acted —
notably 4 Hamlet ' — players' editions were brought out
during the fifty years or so following the Restoration.
These contain, now and then, emendations due to a
desire to correct what seemed to the reviser obvious
error; but what was done was usually done with little
knowledge and less judgment. The result was that the
condition of the text was as a whole distinctly worse in
Ui<; Latter part of the seventeenth century than it was in
the earlier part.

Such ;i slate of things could not continue forever.
As the seventeenth century drew towards its close,

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the reputation of Shakespeare was recognized to be
steadily advancing. With it went on an increasing
demand for his works. Men could not be expected to
remain satisfied with editions which had been indif-
ferently edited in the first place and had been further
deformed in later impressions by errors which creep into
the most carefully revised reprints and crowd into those
carelessly revised. Shakespeare was beginning to assume
more and more the character of a classic. The feeling
grew all the while stronger that as such he should re-
ceive something of the care and attention that were due
to a classic. Efforts should be made to explain what
was doubtful and to elucidate what was obscure. But
before that could be done, it was necessary to estab-
lish as definitely as possible precisely what it was that
he wrote. Convictions of the necessity of this course
forced themselves upon the minds of publishers. To
make a new edition of Shakespeare sell, it was imper-
ative to do something towards reforming the text. A
man for that purpose must be found. The playwright,
Nicholas Rowe, was the one selected to perform the
task. His edition of Shakespeare — the first in which
the dramas can strictly be said to have been edited at all
— appeared in the earlier half of 1709, in six octavo vol-
umes. It came from the publishing house of Tonson.

It was followed the next year by a volume containing
Shakespeare's poems. This was based upon the edition
of 1640, which had included, and by so doing had as-
cribed to him, a number of pieces with which he had no
concern. The reprint made no attempt to sift the
spurious from the genuine. Indeed the lack of authen-

THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE

ticity of any of these additions seems not to have
been suspected. The volume was apparently edited by
Gildon; at least he contributed to it half its contents,
consisting principally of an essay upon the stage, and
remarks upon Shakespeare's plays. It was designedly
made similar in size to the volumes containing the dra-
matic works, but it did not come from the publishing
house of Tonson. This continued to be the case in the
three reprints of it which followed in 1714, in 1725, and
in 1728. In all of these it appears either as a supple-
mentary volume or part of a supplementary volume to
the editions of Shakespeare's plays which were brought
out in those years. But in them Tonson had no inter-
est. To Rowe's second edition of 1714, which appeared
in eight duodecimo volumes, this reprint of the one
brought out in 1710, containing the poems, was joined
as the ninth volume ; but it bore the names of other
publishers on its title-page. Of the volumes of 1725
and 1728 George Sewell was nominally the editor ; but
the work in both instances was practically nothing more
than a reprint of the poems as they had previously ap-
peared, along with the essays of Gildon, who in the
mean time had died.

The account-books of Tonson indicate that Rowe was
paid thirty-six pounds and ten shillings for his work
on the edition. The sum seems somewhat beggarly for
such a (ask, and the editor can hardly be blamed if he
proportioned his labor to his reward. Yet pretensions
to arduous exertions on his part were not lacking.
Rowe prof essed to have done what he assuredly did not
even try to do. In the dedication of his edition to the
Duke of Somerset he disclaimed indeed the idea, that

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

he had accomplished the impossible task of restoring
the text to the exactness of the author's original manu-
scripts. As these had been lost, all he could do, he
declared, was to compare the several editions and secure
from them as far as possible the true reading. This
had been his endeavor; and one would infer from his
words that he had been successful in carrying it out.
His edition was based upon the fourth folio. In that
he observed that many lines had been left out, and in
'Hamlet' one whole scene. These he had supplied.
While he admitted that faults might still be found lie
hoped that they would be those of a merely literal and
typographical nature.

The student of the history of Shakespeare's text will
hardly be disposed to apply so mild an epithet as
'exaggerated' to Rowe's declaration of what he had
done. He possibly looked in a hasty way over certain
of the earlier quartos. To 'Romeo and Juliet' he added
the prologue which was lacking in the folios ; though,
for some unaccountable reason, in both his editions he
placed it at the end instead of the beginning. He
added also to ' Hamlet ' the second scene of the fourth act
in which Fortinbras is represented as having appeared
with his army. This too had been wanting in the folios.
But these insertions were clearly rather the result of
accident than of careful scrutiny. The emendations he
made of the text came rarely, if ever, from the consul-
tation of any of the original authorities. They were
practically all his own. He corrected certain obvious
errors. He put forth some happy and some unhappy
conjectures. Still,. while the work done by Rowe was
neither very efficient nor very effective, there is always

THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE

danger of treating him with injustice. He probably
did all that he was expected or perhaps allowed to do.
In contemplating his shortcomings we are apt to forget
how much there was which needed to be done. Not
only did he introduce some corrections which have been
quietly accepted by all, he completed two things in
particular which before his time had been performed
but partially.

In the folios the dramatis persons were given in
only eight of the thirty-six plays. The division into
acts and scenes was carried out in the most imperfect
and haphazard manner. Six of the plays — the second
and third parts of 'Henry VI.', * Troilus and Cressida ',
4 Romeo and Juliet', ' Timon of Athens' and 'Antony
and Cleopatra, ' — begin with the heading Actus Primus,
Sccena Prima. After this there is no further indica-
tion of act or scene. Those which are found now
rest consequently upon the authority of later editors.
Furthermore ten of the plays have merely division into
acts and no division into scenes. In three more — ' The
Taming of the Shrew ', the first part of ' Henry VI.' and
'Hamlet' — the division is only partially carried out.
These are perhaps the most flagrant illustrations that
can be found of the carelessness in this particular with
which the work was first edited, but others could be
given. These defects of the original sources Rowe
pemedied. It was no slight task, and it demanded in
every case a careful study of the plot. Even if his
conclusions were not always accepted, they furnished
;in invaluable starting-point for the work of further
investigation.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Such was the state of things one hundred years after
the death of Shakespeare. He had outlived entirely the
period of comparative disparagement and neglect which
seems to overtake the reputation of even the greatest
authors for a while after their decease. In the estimate
of men he had now forged ahead of the dramatists of his
time whom previously many had been disposed to reckon
as his equals. With the steadily increasing attention
paid to his writings there went on in many quarters in-
creased study of the text and tentative efforts towards
its restoration. The impatience with its condition which
had led to Rowe's partial and ineffective efforts to clear
it from the errors with which it swarmed was every
day growing more pronounced. It was the varying
views about the proper method of securing this result
which caused the breaking out of the controversy on
that subject which raged with extremest violence during
the whole of the eighteenth century. In it, especially at
the outset, took part no small number of men of letters
of greater or less prominence. The subject itself, though
not directly belonging to literature, has become, in conse-
quence, to some extent an integral part of English liter-
ary history, far more indeed than is generally supposed.
The eighteenth century had not finished its first quar-
ter when a new edition of Shakespeare came out under
the editorial supervision of him who was reckoned then
by the concurrent voice of friends and enemies as the
greatest poet of the time. With its appearance begins
the era of controversy.

CHAPTER V

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

In May, 1720, the last instalment of Pope's translation
of the * Iliad ' came from the publishing house of Lintot.
The work which had absorbed the thought and toil of
years was completed. From the day of the appearance
of the first part in 1715 its success had been assured.
Scholars might cavil then, as they have cavilled since, at
the character of the rendering and at its fidelity to the
original. They might point out mistakes due to the
poet's ignorance of the language he was seeking to trans-
late. There were doubtless grounds for the assertion
constantly made at the time, and often repeated since,
that Pope knew little Greek, and what little he knew he
did not know accurately ; that in consequence he missed
the precise sense in some places, and that even when the
precise sense was given, his rendering was not made
from the original, but was patched up from versions of
Homer which had already appeared in English or in
French. In all charges of this sort there was unques-
tionably a measure of truth. What his critics forgot was
that while Pope was neither a profound nor an accurate
scholar, he was a man of genius. As a result lie brought
to the task lie set out to accomplish qualifications which

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

learning could not impart and pedantry was unable to
appreciate.

But if scholars frequently took exception to the work,
the public did not. With the latter it had one merit
which then as now, overbalanced any possible defects. It
could be read. The unflagging interest it possessed
caused it to be welcomed everywhere as being itself a
distinct contribution to the literature of its own tongue,
and not simply a version into English of the classic of
another tongue. Translations of Homer have multiplied
since its day. Many and perhaps all are more accurate ;
some are far more interesting to scholars, and to highly
educated persons of the scholastic type. But with the
general public of cultivated readers Pope's version lias
never lost the hold which it gained at the very outset.

In this undertaking, Pope had reversed the usual
position of author and publisher. The profit arising
from the production of the translation had come mainly
to himself. But Lin tot's name had been on the title-
page. Even were we to assume that his connection
with the work brought him no great direct pecuniary
benefit, it conferred reputation upon his house. This
fact did not escape the attention of his chief rival, Ton-
son. There was one author for whose works a perma-
nent and increasing popularity was assured. The two
editions of Shakespeare, edited by Rowe, had not been
sufficient to meet the growing demand of the public for
the writings of the great dramatist. Still less did they
come up to the requirements of slowly advancing Eng-
lish scholarship. Here, as it seemed to Tonson, was his
opportunity. Pope had just completed his translation

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

of the ' Iliad.' He was hailed on all sides as the British
Homer. After the death of Addison, in 1719, there was
no one to dispute his place at the head of English men
of letters. His only possible rival was exiled to Ireland.
Furthermore, Swift, though far superior as a writer of
prose, was in the highest form of literature no rival at
all. It struck Tonson as the most desirable of specula-
tions that the greatest of English dramatists should be
edited by the greatest of living English poets. It was
an enterprise which would bring credit to his house as
well as money to his purse. Accordingly, he made the
necessary overtures. Pope listened to the voice of the
charmer. In an evil hour for his comfort and reputa-
tion he agreed to undertake the task. *

After a fashion he accomplished it. Like the trans-
lation of the ' Iliad ' the work was published by subscrip-
tion. In this instance, the profits did not go to the
editor. According to Dr. Johnson's statement, derived
without doubt directly or indirectly from the publishers,
Tope received for his labor only two hundred and sev-
enteen pounds and twelve shillings. This is borne out
by the transcripts taken from Tonson's books, though it
must be admitted that publishers' accounts have never
quite attained at any period to the sanctity of a divine
revelation. The amount indeed is so beggarly as to be
suspicious. This would be true, were we to limit our-
selves to the consideration of the work any editor would
be expected to perform, without taking into account the
almost inestimable value of the name of this particular
editor. At a later period Pope resented warmly the
charge frequently insinuated and sometimes openly

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

made that he had a share in the profits of the subscrip-
tion. As this was at the rate of a guinea a volume, it
was not unfrequently termed exorbitant. No evidence
has been presented that he had any interest in it; in
fact, it is only from his own indignant disclaimers that
most men would now be aware that any such charge
had ever been brought. It is indeed his irritation, more
than anything else, that makes the matter doubtful. It
is a hard thing to say, but even more suspicious than
the comparative pettiness of the sum reported to have
been paid for his services is his repeated and angry
denial of having derived personally any benefit from the
subscription ; for denials of this sort were too frequently
given by him to charges now known to be true. Pope's
veracity is never so much to be suspected as when he
is found resenting any attack upon his character or
exhibiting peculiar sensitiveness to any imputations cast
upon his honor.

Exactly when he began the work of revising the text,
and how long he was engaged upon it, we have no means
of ascertaining with exactness. In a note to that edition
of 'The Dunciad,' which came out in 1736 — a time when
Pope was still feeling acutely the reflections cast upon
the way he had discharged his self-imposed duty — he
asserted that he had assumed the burden of editing
Shakespeare merely because no one else would.1 It is
likewise a reasonable inference from what he further
said in this same place that he took up the task im-
mediately after finishing his translation of the 4 Iliad ' —
which he dated as 1719 — and then spent the next two

1 Note to line 326 of Book 3 ; in modern editions, line 332.

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

years in the drudgery of collation and revision. It is
probable that it was this note that led Dr. Johnson in
his life of the poet to fix upon 1721 as the year of the
publication of the edition of Shakespeare — a mistake,
the commission of which the slightest examination of
the work itself would have rendered impossible. Pope's
words, without any verification, are always taken in
their natural meaning at the risk of him who bases any
statements upon them. Later we shall have plenty of
opportunity to see how he varied his assertions to suit
his purpose for the time being.

It is, however, reasonable to believe that Pope began
the work upon the edition of Shakespeare soon after he
had freed himself from all engagements connected with
his translation of the ' Iliad.' From his correspondence
it is evident that in the latter part of 1721 he had been
for some time interested in the undertaking. A letter
to him from Atterbury in October of that year makes it
clear that the poet had already been, to use the bishop's
phrase, " dabbling here and there with the text." 2 By
the next month certainly news of the intended project
had become noised abroad. " The celebrated Mr. Pope,"
said 4 Mist's Journal,' " is preparing a correct edition of
Shakespeare's works ; that of the late Mr. Rowe being
very fault}'." 2 After this time references are more fre-
quent and information more precise. It is clear from a
letter of Pope to Broome, belonging to the early part of
the following year, that he was then actively engaged in
the preparation of the work. His comment on the first

1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. ix. p. 31.

2 November 18, 1721, p. 927, 2d column.
0 ^ 81 A_^

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

folio — which he mistakenly ascribed to 1621 — shows
how little knowledge then existed of the value of the
original authorities. " The oldest edition in folio," he
wrote, " is 1621, which I have, and it is from that almost
all the errors of succeeding editions take rise." 1 In
July, 1724, Fenton wrote to Broome that he was about
to finish the completion of the index.2 Late in October
of the same year Pope informed the same person that he
had just written the preface, and that in three weeks
the work would be out.3 The anticipation, as happens
generally in undertakings of this nature, was not ful-
filled. Not until March, 1725, were the copies delivered
to subscribers.

The edition consisted of six large quarto volumes.
Everything about it was excellent but the editing. Per-
haps the proof-reading should be included in the excep-
tion ; for there were blunders in that which in a work
so pretentious and costly were inexcusable. Still, paper
and type were all that could be desired ; and the ex-
ternal appearance of the volumes might fairly be called
sumptuous. It was in the text the deficiency lay.
The preparation of it was a task for which Pope was
pre-eminently unfitted. For performing the most essen-
tial portion of an editor's duty he had the most insig-
nificant equipment. Furthermore, he had few of the
characteristics of the student as distinguished from the
man of letters pure and simple. The scholastic instinct,
sometimes present in poets of genius, was lacking in

1 Letter of February 10, 1722, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 48.

2 Letter of July 19, Ibid. p. 82.

3 Letter of October 8, Ibid. p. 88.

POPE'S EDITION OE SHAKESPEARE

him entirely. He could never have applied himself,
as did Ben Jonson, to the production of an English
grammar. He could never have composed, as did Mil-
ton, a Latin one. He could never have interested him-
self, as did Gray, in writing notes upon Greek authors
and compiling Greek chronological tables. So consti-
tuted, he had naturally failed to acquire the special
qualifications which were requisite to carry through
with success the work he had undertaken. He had
little familiarity with the dramatic literature of the
Elizabethan age. With the less known literature that
was in vogue during that period he had scarcely any
familiarity at all. So ignorant was he of its importance
for the illustration of Shakespeare's text that he ridi-
culed the examination of it as trifling pedantry.

It was probably his success as a translator of Homer
which led him to believe that he was fitted for this new
enterprise. It is manifest that he had formed no con-
ception of the essential difference there was in the
nature of the two undertakings. In editing, he could
not with any propriety substitute beauties of his own
for beauties in the original he had failed to find or to
render. To do even creditably the work he had as-
sumed, poetic inspiration was of the least possible util-
ity. On the other hand, besides the mastery of a certain
kind of special knowledge which he lacked entirely, it
demanded a dogged industry which never flinched from
the dreary drudgery of collating different and differing
texts, of weighing the exact value of individual words
and pi nases, of scrutinizing carefully the punctuation so
far as it affected the meaning. In a higher sense, much

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

more was required for its successful prosecution. That
involved the possession of intellectual acumen of a pecu-
liarly subtle type, and in particular a keen analytic in-
sight which could penetrate into the meaning of the
author, when most obscurely indicated, and trace the
connection of thought suggested but not fully expressed
in the hurry of dialogue. These were not the qualifica-
tions or the characteristics which belonged to Pope. In
undertaking the work he was misemploying his powers.
Though not a scholar he was a man of genius ; and as a
man of genius he could be far better engaged in original
creation than in revising the creations of others.

That a person of Pope's great abilities should have
contributed nothing to the rectification and improve-
ment of the text of Shakespeare would be ridiculous to
assert and impossible to believe. At this point, how-
ever, it rests upon us to bring out not the merits, but
the defects of a work which even in an age utterly un-
critical in the matter of English scholarship, excited
hostile comment in many quarters. It may not be
deemed surprising that it should have fallen below the
extremely overwrought expectations which had been
raised from the fact of Pope's assuming the editorship.
But it fell below even moderate expectations. The
truth is that in several respects it was much more of
a failure than it has been generally reported to be.
Owing to the great reputation of the poet at the time,
and to circumstances which have yet to be related, the
text came to be treated with a tenderness to which it
never had the slightest claim. A certain prepossession
in its favor, or rather a dislike to dwell upon its defects,

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

has lasted down almost to the present time. Yet, if we
contrast what Pope pretended to do with what he ac-
tually did, it is hardly possible to use too strong lan-
guage about his course. After modestly remarking that
in this edition he had given proof of his willingness and
desire to do Shakespeare justice, he went on to make
assertions which he soon had ample opportunity to re-
pent. " I have discharged," he wrote, " the dull duty
of an editor to my best judgment, with more labor than
I expect thanks, with a religious abhorrence of all inno-
vation, and without any indulgence to my private sense
or conjecture." This was strong enough as a gen-
eral statement; when it came to details it was made
stronger. " The various readings," he went on to say,
" are fairly put in the margin, so that any one may com-
pare 'em ; and those I have preferred into the text are
constantly ex fide codicum, upon authority. . . . The
more obsolete or unusual words are explained."

Never lias there been exhibited a greater contrast be-
tween loftiness of pretension and meagerness of perform-
ance. In some ways Pope had the right conception of
the duty to be done, and this he took care to proclaim
distinctly. Furthermore, he had the means of doing it.
To the final volume he appended the titles of the origi-
nal authorities, which according to his own assertion he
had made use of and compared. The list is headed by
the folios of 1623 and 1632. It embraces quarto edi-
tions of all the plays — though not all the quartos —
which had appeared before the publication of the first
complete edition, with the single exception of ' Much
Ado about Nothing.' His means for establishing the

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

text were therefore fairly ample ; for his age indeed
they may be termed almost remarkable. The number
of these early authorities in his possession makes it ac-
cordingly difficult to understand the statement of Capell
that Pope's materials were few. Much more confidence
can be put in that editor's criticism that Pope's collation
of his authorities was not the most careful.1

The wealth of material he possessed makes in truth
the contrast between his words and his action peculiarly
noticeable. He said that he had carefully collated the
texts of the original copies. He did nothing of the kind.
He only consulted them occasionally. He said the vari-
ous readings were fairly put in the margin where they
could be compared by every one. Not once in fifty times
was anything of the kind done. He said he never in-
dulged his private sense or conjecture. He did it con-
stantly and without notification to the reader. He said
he had exhibited a religious abhorrence of all innova-
tions, and had not preferred any reading into the text
unless supported by the early copies. On the contrary,
the changes he made solely on his own authority ran up
into the thousands, and it was rarely the case that any
indication of the fact was given anywhere. He said that
lie had explained the more obsolete or unusual words.
It was not often that he explained any, and when he
did he sometimes explained them wrongly, and at other
times explained them differently.

The treatment of the words he deemed it desirable to
define is indeed a fair illustration of the haphazard way
in which the work on this edition was done. The num-
1 Capell's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 16.

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

ber he took the trouble to explain was about one hundred
and twent}^. In considering them, one has always to bear
in mind that the language of the eighteenth century is
much further removed from the speech of the Elizabethan
period than the language of to-day. Hence, there is no
small number of words familiar to us now, which were
rarely if ever used then. This fact must always modify
any criticism of the selection which Pope made. Still,
it is difficult to believe that several of those that he felt
it incumbent to define could have been unknown to the
men of his generation. Even if strange, their significa-
tion in most cases could have been easily guessed from
the context. Where so vast a number of really difficult
words were passed over in silence, it would seem hardly
worth while to inform the reader, as did Pope, that
bolted means 'sifted,' that budge means 'give way,' that eld
means 'old age,' that gyves means 'shackles,' that fitcliew
means ' polecat,' that sometime means ' formerly,' that
rood means ' cross,' and that the verb witch means ' be-
witch.' These, and others like these, could not have
been deemed obsolete: some of them it would hardly
have been right to call unusual. Still, it must be re-
garded as in a measure evidence of the linguistic sit-
uation then prevailing that such words as these should
have been thought by the greatest writer of the age to
be in special need of explanation.

Proof of Pope's imperfect equipment for his task,
much more striking than the selection of the words
lie made for definition, was too often the definition of
the words lie selected. These were not unfrequently
lli«! purest guesses. Even when they approached the

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

meaning, they sometimes failed to give it exactly. A
few examples will set this forth clearly. The noun,
Mlding, 'a worthless good-for-nothing fellow,' was ex-
plained by the adjectives 'base,' 'degenerate.' Caliver,
' a small gun,' was set down as * a large gun.' Hench-
man appears as ' usher ' ; hurtling, ' collision ' or ' con-
flict,' as 'skirmishing'; and brach, as 'hound.' The
two definitions given of brooch are suggestive of the
obscurity as well as misapprehension that had then
overtaken the designation of that now common orna-
mental fastening. In one place it was explained as
* an old word signifying a jewel,' and in the other as
' a chain of gold that women wore formerly about
their necks.' The ingenuity with which, when a word
had two possible meanings, Pope could light upon the
wrong one can be seen in his giving to callat, ' a strum-
pet,' the sense of ' scold ' ; and again in defining coystrel,
' a knave,' as ' a young lad.' Thetvs, in Shakespeare, al-
ways refers to physical qualities; he made it refer to
moral ones. For thus defining it he had the justifica-
tion that it had been sometimes so used ; but this is an
explanation of his course which in other cases cannot
always be trusted. In 'Antony and Cleopatra,' for
instance, the queen is designated by Scaurus as " yon
ribaudred nag of Egypt."1 Pope not only followed
Rowe in substituting ribald for ribaud?*ed, but gave to
the word he adopted the singular definition of "a
luxurious squanderer."

Puzzling indeed it occasionally is to ascertain the
quarter from which the definition of the word wrongly

1 Act iii., scene 10.

POPE'S EDITION OP SHAKESPEARE

explained could have come. Take the case of foison.
This noun, signifying ' plenty,' « plentiful crop,' is found
about half a dozen times in Shakespeare. Pope learned
at last its meaning; but when he first met it in the
1 Tempest,' 1 he defined it as " the natural juice or moist-
ure of the grass and other herbs " ; and this sense was
retained in his second edition of 1728. Still it is clear
that in a number of instances his explanation of the
word was inferred from the derivation or supposed deri-
vation. In the first part of 'Henry IV.' the king's son
rebnkes Falstaff for interrupting a serious conversation
with a frivolous but, it must be conceded, a very perti-
nent and pointed jest. "Peace, chewet, peace," says
the prince.2 Chewet has been defined as a kind of pie
and as a jackdaw. Pope chose to consider it as a form
of the French word chcvet, and in consequence gave it
the sense of * bolster.' He was indeed always liable to
get into trouble when he sought to trace his words to
foreign sources. As his etymologies were often wrong,
it is not at all remarkable that the explanations based
upon them should not merely be guesses, but should be
veiy bad guesses. The unscholarly nature of Pope's
mind was almost invariably sure to display itself when-
ever he set out to exhibit scholarship.

This charge can easily be substantiated. The old
English verb ear, as an example, means ' to plough.'
Three times it was used by Shakespeare in his plays.
Pope defined it and defined it correctly; but not con-
tent with this, he went on in every instance to impart
the information — needless, had it been true, but worse

1 Act ii., scene 1. 2 Act v., scene 1.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

than needless since it was false — that it was derived
from the Latin arare. A not dissimilar illustration is
furnished by neif. This is a word which belongs to the
Northern English dialects and signifies the closed hand.
It is twice used by Shakespeare. In the place where it
occurs in the * Midsummer Night's Dream,' l it was very
properly denned by Pope as a Yorkshire word for ' fist.'
But this same natural and, as it might seem inevitable,
interpretation as an affected term for 'hand' he failed
to adopt in the second part of « King Henry IV.' when
Pistol says to Falstaff, "Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif."2
Instead he gave it the preposterous definition of * woman-
slave.' He had discovered in Spelman's Glossary that
nativa had been used in Low Latin to indicate one born
in the household; that this word had been taken over
into Old French with the same signification of ' woman-
slave,' but in the form neif ; and from that tongue had
passed with the same meaning into Old English. This
sense, never heard, and doubtless never even heard of
in Shakespeare's time, Pope chose to consider the ap-
propriate one in the place here specified, because the
mistress of Falstaff chanced to be present. He did not
fare any better when he undertook to meddle with
Greek. Periapt, 'an amulet,' occurs in the following
line from the first part of ' Henry VI.,'

" Now help, ye charming spells and periapts." 3

To this last word Pope gave the signification of * charms
sowed up.' He derived it properly enough from the
Greek verb periapto, which he said meant 'to sowe.'

1 Act iv., scene 1. 2 Act ii., scene 4. 3 Act v., scene 3.

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

This particular sense has escaped the observation of
lexicographers.

But it was in the case of modern languages, especially
of his own, that Pope's efforts to base interpretation
upon etymology came to the greatest grief. In ' Much
Ado about Nothing,'1 where mention is made of the
reechy — that is, the smoke-begrimed — painting, reechy
was defined by him as ' valuable,' evidently under the
impression that it had something to do with rich. In
* Lear,' in the passage Aviiich now reads

" All germens spill at once
That make ingrateful man."2

germens — that is 'germs,' 'seeds' — was explained as
1 relations or kindred elements that compose man.' The
word germane, with its sense of ' closely akin,' was
clearly in Pope's mind. Again, in * Twelfth Night,' 3 the
clown remarks that " a sentence is but a cheveril glove
to a good wit, how quickly the wrong side may be turned
outward." Cheveril was defined as ' tender,' and to sup-
port this meaning it was represented as derived from
cheverilliis, « a young cock or chick.' Theobald naturally
observed that this was the first time a glove had been
represented as made of the skin of a cockerel, and that
I he real derivation was from the French word signifying
1 kid.' So again when Hamlet's father speaks of himself
as cut off,

** Unhouselod, disappointed, unaneled,"4

Pope explained unaneled — that is, 'not having received
extreme unction' — by the words 'no knell rung.' One

1 Act, iii., scene 3. 2 Act Iil_, scone 2.

3 Act, iii., scene 1. 4 Act i., scene 5.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

is indeed surprised by his occasional ignorance of what
from his professed religion he would be supposed fully
to know. As an additional instance, in King Henry
VIII.1 he changed " sacring bell " into " scaring bell."

When indeed we have thrown aside the unnecessary,
the inadequate, and the actually erroneous definitions
which Pope gave, we have but a sorry number of
absolutely correct ones to put to his credit. It was no
infrequent practice with him, when he failed to under-
stand a word to replace it by another which seemed to
him more satisfactory. For instance, in the line from
' Hamlet ' just cited unanointed was substituted by him
for the disappointed of the original. Not the slightest
hint was furnished that the word he printed was not
Shakespeare's but his own. This is only one of numer-
ous illustrations of the like unwarranted liberties which
he took with the text. So Lear, in apostrophizing the
elements, says to them, in the original edition, " You
owe me no subscription."2 For this last word Pope
gave in his text submission. His procedure indeed was
sometimes so arbitrary that it is not always easy to
make out the reason which led him to adopt the read-
ings he introduced. In several instances he retained
the obsolete teen, ' sorrow,' 'grief,' and further defined it
correctly. Yet in ' King Richard III.' he substituted
for it anguish, though the ryme required the use of the
original word.3 As in a large proportion of instances

1 Act ill., scene 2.

2 Act ill., scene 2.

3 " Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,

And each hour's joy wracked with a week of teen."
Act iv„ scene 1.

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

there is no intimation that any change whatever has
been made, we can never feel certain, so long as we
confine ourselves to his text, whether we are reading
the words of the dramatist or those put for them by
the editor.

An explanation, if not an excuse, can be offered for
Pope's course. In doing as he did, he was simply
conforming to the reprehensible practice which prevailed
during his time and longf afterward in the editing or
reprinting of English classics. There was little thought
of preserving the original text in its integrity. It was
deemed the duty of the reviser to improve it so as to
adapt it to the taste of the more refined age to which
he had the happiness to belong. Unwarranted changes
were accordingly made at the will or the whim of the
editor. Indeed the works of authors so late as Addison
or Swift had frequently to endure the impertinence of
having their assumed grammatical errors corrected by the
veriest hacks in the pay of the booksellers. The license
in which Pope indulged was therefore characteristic of
his age ; only his name gave a weight and authority to
the changes he made which would never have been
accorded to those of an inferior man. The extrava-
gances he committed have indeed met with no general
recognition ; for they have been largely obscured to
sight and lost to memory in the greater brilliance of
Warburton's extraordinary performances in the same
line.

So far as the text pure and simple was concerned,
everywhere throughout this edition were exhibited
marks of grossest carelessness. The various readings

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

were given on the pettiest scale, nor is there ever the
slightest indication of the source from which they are
derived. The words found in the margin may have
been taken from a quarto, from the first or the second
folio, or from Rowe's text, or they may have been of
Pope's own invention, for anything the reader can tell.
The original punctuation was sometimes changed so as
to destroy the sense ; at other times it was retained
when, as the result of so doing, the sense was de-
stroyed. As Pope substituted words of his own for
those he did not understand, so, ignorant of the grammar
of Shakespeare's time, he altered it to suit the grammar
of his own time. He seems, at least at first, to have
been unaware that double comparison characterized the
language of the Elizabethan period, as indeed it had
characterized the language of the two hundred years
previous. Consequently when the Duke of Milan tells
his daughter that she knows nothing of whence she
came, or that he himself is " more better than Prospero,
master of a full poor cell," Pope changed "more better"
into " more or better." So when Shakespeare used the
plural form year, years was frequently substituted.
When double negation appeared, as, for instance, in a
phrase containing both nor and neither, the nor became
and. In all these cases no intimation was given that
any change whatever had been made.

In this edition, furthermore, Pope took the most
unwarrantable liberty which has probably ever been
taken with the text of a great author. Anything that
did not suit his taste he insinuated and indeed almost
directly asserted was not the composition of Shake-

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

speare, but interpolations foisted into the piece by the
players. An impression to this effect was conveyed in
particular in regard to the passages which contained
quibbles, or dealt with words used seriously in the same
sentence but with different meanings. In these, it is
needless to observe, not merely the comedies, but also
the tragedies abound. In certain cases Pope gave
vigorous expression to a desire to throw out whole
scenes, but contented himself with setting against them
typographical marks of reprobation. This could be
endured ; but there were many passages which he
refused to print in their proper place. He wrenched
them from the context and put them in different type
at the bottom of the page. That much of the matter
thus rejected is distinctly inferior cannot be questioned.
None the less was his action unwarranted. It was a
course of conduct that no editor, acting merely on his
private judgment, had a right to follow. The matter
dropped may have been poor. It may have been Shake-
speare at his worst, and possibly not Shakespeare at all.
It may be that it could have been entirely omitted, as
Pope asserted, without causing any break in the orderly
development of the plot. But assuming all this to be
true, no authority belonged to any editor to mutilate
the text in this way, and substitute for what had been
transmitted his private notion of what it ought to be.
There can be no limit to arbitrary changes and omis-
sions, if each man's taste is to be the standard of what
is to be received as genuine.1

1 There were only ten plays in which Pope <li<l not discard some of the
lines of the original. Iu ' Midsummer Night's Dream ,' ' Merry Wives of

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

The action of Pope in this particular could not, there-
fore, be regarded under any circumstances as praise-
worthy. But there were circumstances in which it was
inexcusable. In some instances the matter degraded
was essential to the full comprehension of the matter
which followed. But there were proceedings even
worse. Lines were occasionally dropped without any
attention being called to the fact. In one or two in-
stances certainly we know this to have happened as the
result of pure carelessness. In others it is apparently
due to his not having the slightest comprehension of the
meaning. Macbeth, for illustration, in giving his in-
structions to the men employed to murder Banquo, takes
care to tell them that his complicity in their action must
never be allowed to come to light.

" Always thought
That I require a clearness," 1

is the caution he interposes. These words were omitted
by Pope without the slightest notification of the fact.
The only apparent reason for his so doing is that he
had no conception whatever of their meaning.

Other lines were thrown out of their place seemingly
because they did not recommend themselves to Pope's
judgment, and his judgment in a number of instances is
quite inexplicable to the modern reader. Of this the
play just mentioned will furnish striking exemplifica-
tions. In the high-wrought passage in which Macbeth

Windsor/ ' Measure for Measure,' 'As You Like It/ 'AH 's Well that Ends
Well/ ' Twelfth Night / the third part of ' Henry VI./ ' Henry VIII./
and ' Antony and Cleopatra/ nothing was relegated to the bottom of
the page.

1 Act iii., scene 1.

POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

declares that he has murdered sleep, it is not altogether
easy to look with equanimity upon Pope's degradation
to the bottom of the page of one of the lines of the im-
passioned apostrophe to that state of rest which describes
it as

" Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care." *

But what are we to think of an editor who coolly rele-
gates to the obscurity of the margin a line which Homer
might justly have felicitated himself upon writing, but
which Homer's translator found himself incapable of
appreciating? We all know how Macbeth, when he
realizes the impossibility of even the great ocean washing
the bloodstains from his hand, expresses the utter futility
of such a moral purification by saying,

" This my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnardine,
Making the green one red." 2

The second line of the passage Pope discarded from the
text and placed in the margin. Furthermore, not con-
tent with leaving out this picture of the ceaseless play
and infinite variety of the ever-restless waves, he de-
stroyed as far as he could, the beauty of it, by printing
without any authority the four words constituting the
line in the following form :

" Thy multitudinous sea incarnardine."

Fortunately for the text the relegation of distasteful
matter to the bottom of the page was not followed, with
a single exception, by later editors, even when they

1 Act ii., scene 2. 2 Ibid.

7 97

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

most firmly believed that a part of the dialogue was
jejune and trivial. Not even Warburton, who was cap-
able of committing any outrage upon the received read-
ing, resorted to this course. The one exception was Sir
Thomas Hanmer, whose edition appeared in 1744. He
accepted and improved upon Pope's procedure. So far
from finding fault with his predecessor's rejection of vari-
ous passages, he regretted that more had not undergone
the same sentence. Therefore upon his own judgment
he discarded an additional number which he looked upon
as objectionable. The most considerable, he tells us,
was " that wretched piece of ribaldry put into the mouth
of the French princess and an old gentlewoman, im-
proper enough as it is all in French and not intelli-
gible to an English audience, and yet that is perhaps
the best thing that can be said of it." l He went on
then to repeat Pope's accusation of the actors as the
ones responsible for these wretched interpolations. While
admitting that some of the poor witticisms and conceits
must have fallen from the pen of Shakespeare himself,
he insisted that a great deal " of that low stuff which
disgraces the works of this great author was foisted in
by the players after his death, to please the vulgar
audiences by which they subsisted."

1 Henry V., act iii., scene 4.

CHAPTER VI

pope's treatment of the text

All that has been said of Pope's edition in the
preceding chapter is the truth. It is even less than
the truth. Yet taken by itself it would certainly give
a wrong impression. In one way a great deal of in-
justice has been done to Pope from his own age to the
present. At the very beginning the comments made
upon his edition led to the unavoidable inference that
the duty which he had assumed had been performed
not only unsatisfactorily, but also perfunctorily. At a
later period accusations to this effect were sometimes
expressed even more strongly. The belief has largely
extended to our own day.1 To use a modern phrase,
he has been charged with scamping his work. The
gioss unfairness of attacks of this sort Pope felt at
the time and resented with a good deal of indigna-
tion. So far from neglecting the task he had taken
in hand, lie devoted to it a great deal of attention and
labor — so much indeed that the amount reported to
have been paid him for his services must always seem
absurdly small.

1 E.g.: "Kenton received .CIO, 14 s. for his share in Pope's mengro
edition of Shakespeare. Very little labour was bestowed upon the work,
and much of that little was done by Fenton and Gay." Note by Elwin
in ' Pope's Works,' vol. viii. p. 82.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

The wide prevalence of the belief in the remissness
displayed by him in the discharge of his duty had,
however, a measure of justification. The labor he be-
stowed upon his work was not the kind of labor he
pretended to have bestowed. We constantly meet in
life with a certain class of men who may be said to
be victims of their own ideals. The motives by which
they declare themselves actuated are so lofty, the ends
they have in view are so elevated that ordinarily it is
quite impossible for weak human nature to lift their
conduct up to the level of their professions. So it
was in this instance with Pope. He knew and pro-
claimed some of the methods of scholars, even if he
did not follow them as he declared. He made the
nature of a certain portion of editorial duty so clear
that no one could mistake it. He set the standard
for it so high that it was in the power of those he
had instructed in the character and extent of its re-
quirements to detect readily how far he had fallen
below it. The consequence was that his failure to do
what he asserted he had done led to the utterly unwar-
ranted conclusion that he had done nothing at all.

Yet whatever may be our opinion as to the methods
he employed and the results he reached, it would be
uncanclid to deprive him of the credit of that industry
to which he is entitled. Proofs of the time and toil
he spent upon the text can be found on nearly every
page. In certain passages he re-arranged the words, and
thereby established the measure so successfully that his
regulation of the lines has been generally adopted. He
marked with much more precision the places where the

100

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

scenes were laid — a work which on account of the fre-
quency with which changes of these take place needed
to be done, and to do properly required close attention.
Furthermore the contributions he made to the correc-
tion of the then current text were sometimes of distinct
value. His edition was set up from Rowe's second
edition. But there will be found instances where Pope
did not follow the reading of his predecessor, but re-
trieved the right one from either a quarto or the first
folio. Take, for example, the speech of the consul
Cominius, when he is represented as celebrating to the
people the deeds of Coriolanus.1 In the text, as he
found it, the hero is said to have "waited like a sea."
For this Pope substituted from the first folio "waxed
like a sea." Again in the same address where the re-
ceived reading had been for a century that "his every
motion was trimmed with dying cries," Pope substituted
from the same source timed for trimmed. A little later
in the speech "shunless defamy" Avas made to give
place to " shunless destiny." These changes need only
to be mentioned to have their value recognized at once.
Pope's action in this matter was neither systematic nor
thorough. Still, no one can go over it without becom-
ing aware that in his way he at intervals labored hard
upon the text. All that he did could never have been
reckoned great work ; but some of it, so far as it went,
was good work.

Furthermore, to some of the plays he added passages
which did not appear in the edition of his predecessor.
Their absence from that was owing to the fact that they

1 Coriolanus, act ii., scene 2.

101

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

were not contained in the folios. Pope was accordingly
the first to lay the quartos under contribution for the
establishment of the modern text. To ' Hamlet ' he
added a few lines from this source ; to ' Lear ' a great
many, — roughly speaking, about one hundred and fifty,
including a whole scene. These are specimens of the
work he did which suffice to free him from the charge
of having treated with almost total neglect the authori-
ties which he pretended to have collated. There is
something also to be said in favor of his conjectural
emendations. Some of them certainly deserve all the
harsh criticism which they have received ; but there are
others which are peculiarly happy. Several of them
have commended themselves to all, or at least to the
vast majority of later editors, and may be said to have
now become a constituent part of the received text.

It is the misfortune of Pope, however, that he can
rarely be praised as an editor in any particular without
reservation. It was not often his wont to do his work
thoroughly. He restored, as we have seen, to the text
of ' Lear ' about one hundred and fifty lines from the
quarto ; he left about a hundred more to be added from
the same source by Theobald. The thing should have
been done completely or not done at all. To refrain
from doing either the one or the other merely illustrated
in consequence the capricious way in which he dealt
with his authorities. No settled principles in fact deter-
mined his action in any given case. He had used the
quartos to improve the text ; he likewise used them to
mar it. Living at the time he did, he was pardonable
for not possessing either the knowledge or the critical

102

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

sagacity which would have enabled him to decide upon
the comparative value of early editions where more than
one existed of the same play. This was a knowledge, to
which the imparting of anything like certainty required
almost a further century of investigation. What was
inexcusable was the deference he paid to some of the
early quartos whose manifest corruption ought not to
have been hid from the most superficial student. These
particular quartos are now universally recognized as
among the pirated, and imperfect because pirated, plays
which then came not infrequently from the press. Pope
pompously proclaimed them as " first editions," and gave
the impression that the form in which they appeared
was due to the author himself. This is indicated in his
attitude towards the corrupt quarto of 4 Henry V.,' which
was originally published in 1600. In his controversy with
Theobald he pretended to rate the text of this wretched
edition as being in some ways of superior value to that
of the same play as found in the folio of 1623, because
it had come out in Shakespeare's lifetime.

But perhaps his worst achievement in this line was in
the case of the imperfect pirated quarto of 4 Romeo and
Juliet,' which appeared in 1597. Poor as it was, he paid
to it the most marked deference. In his preface he said
in praise of it that there was no hint in it of ua great
number of the mean conceits and ribaldries" which were
now to be found in the play.1 Upon the strength of
its readings he not only failed to retain in the text
numerous lines, lu; did not even trouble himself to put
them at the bottom of the page. There are instances in

1 Pope's Shakospear, vol. i., Preface, p. xvi.

103

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

which it is hard to say whether the recklessness or the
audacity displayed in these rejections is the greater. In
one place he omitted nineteen serious lines in the speech
of Friar Laurence to Romeo.1 He mentioned the fact, to
be sure, — it was something which he often thought it
not worth while to do, — but it was in the following way
that he mentioned it: "Here follows in the common
books," he wrote, "a great deal of nonsense, not one
word of which is to be found in the first edition." So
in the succeeding scenes nearly a dozen lines are omitted ;
none of them, however, are so indicated. This is far
from being the only play in which he threw out passages
because he deemed them unworthy of Shakespeare, ac-
companying their rejection with a running comment of
disapprobation. In * Othello,' for illustration, certain of
the abrupt exclamations wrung by Iago from the tortured
spirit of the Moor, are relegated to the margin with the
following note, " No hint of this trash in the first
edition."2

A more serious charge can be brought against Pope's
manipulation of the text. Among the early plays which
are still extant is a comedy entitled ' The Taming of a
Shrew.' Pope recognized the closeness of the resem-
blance between this and the play of Shakespeare's which
bears almost the same title. Plot and scenery, he said,
were not essentially different. In certain respects he
even thought the presumably older comedy to be supe-
rior. Still he was not inclined to attribute its composition
to the dramatist. " I should not think it written by

1 Act iii., scene 4.

2 Pope's Sliakespear, vol. vi. p. 551.

104

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

Shakespear," are his words.1 Yet with this belief
about it he added in two places lines from it to the
Induction of Shakespeare's play.2 They are in no way
necessary to the sense, and it is not easy to discover any
motive for their insertion. He had also before him the
old play in two parts entitled ' The Troublesome Reign
of King John.' Though on its title-page it purported to
have been written by Shakespeare and Rowley, there
was no question in his mind as to its spuriousness. He
accordingly did not append it to his list of quartos con-
sulted and compared. " The present play," he said of
Shakespeare's on the same subject, " is entirely different
and infinitely superior to it." 3 Yet from this admittedly
spurious piece he received into the text of the genuine
in one place twelve lines, in another three lines. Both
interpolations were unnecessary, and the latter compelled
the omission of a part of one line of the original.

These are sins both of omission and of commission :
but whatever their gravity, they make it clear that Pope
was far from slighting the early editions. Still, there
was never any systematic or thorough collation of them.
In its stead was merely occasional consultation. Even
this seems to have been largely a matter of caprice.
His method of proceeding in general may be stated as
having been about as follows. If a puzzling sentence
chanced to arrest his attention, his first thought appar-
ently was to amend it by some conjecture of his own.
If no way of clearing up the difficulty presented itself

1 Pope's Shakespear, in Table of Editions at end.

2 Ibid. vol. iii. p|.. 279 and 283.
» Ibid. vol. iii. p. [115.]

105

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

to his mind, he turned to the quartos or folios for help.
If a satisfactory solution of the difficulty could be de-
rived from these sources, he availed himself of it, though
assuredly not in all cases. How indifferently, how neg-
ligently this work of consultation was done, there are
plenty of examples to show. Specimens have been
given of Pope's corrections of Rowe's text in the speech
of Cominius in the tragedy of ' Coriolanus.' In this
same speech occurs also in the first folio — which he
must have had before his eyes — the following passage :

" As weeds before
A vessel under sail, so men obeyed
And fell below his stem."

In all the later folios weeds had been replaced by waves.
Pope not only retained this reading, but improved upon
it after his fashion. He changed stem to stem; and it
was not until Malone's edition of 1790, that the text of
the folio was restored in its entirety. Steevens indeed
clung to waves to the last and defended it.

In his emendations, furthermore, there was occasion-
ally displayed something more than misunderstanding of
meaning. He evinced at times an intellectual obtuse-
ness which, considering his intellectual power, affords
matter for legitimate surprise. The negative failures
were, however, far more pronounced than the positive.
He let go by without remark, and apparently without
remarking, sentences out of which it seems impossible
to extract any satisfactory meaning. Obscurity due to
badness of text escapes at intervals the attention of
even the most keenly observant. This was sure to be
frequently the case with an editor of the character of

106

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

Pope. In the hurry of perusal he did not observe
difficulties which lay in his way. Sometimes too these
could have been removed with the least possible trouble.
A consultation of the original authorities which he had
at his command would have set right passages which
as found in his edition are obscure, when they are not
incomprehensible. Illustrations of these characteristics
of his work need not detain us here. A sufficient
number of examples will be furnished when we come
to the detailed account of the controversy which went
on later between him and his rival editor.

Indolence, however, has its compensations as well as
its disadvantages. It is one of the results of Pope's
hap-hazard way of dealing with the text that he left
passages unchanged which at first sight seemed to
demand alteration of some sort to give them any sense
whatever. It is possible that extraordinary perspicacity
on his part led him in some instances to take this
course; it is altogether more probable, it is in truth
practically certain, that his action was due generally,
if not invariably, to heedlessness, or indisposition to
grapple with the difficulties that presented themselves.
Such places usually underwent more or less of transfor-
mation at the hands of later editors. But fuller and
closer investigation has established a satisfactory sense
for the original reading, sometimes the very sense which
demands its retention. The altered passage lias accord-
ingly been restored to the state in which it first appeared,
and in which it was left by both Rowe and Pope. The
action of the latter in letting sentences remain as he
found them brought him in many instances into trouble;

107

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

but in some it has turned out distinctly to his advan-
tage. In the feverish activity of modern life we are too
little disposed to recognize what an important part for
good is often played by indolence. The indisposition
manifested at times by Pope to disturb the existing text
has in several cases redounded not only to its benefit
but to the benefit of his own reputation.

It is a natural inquiry after statements of this sort,
what is it that Pope did to entitle him to the praise of
industry which was accorded to him at the beginning
of this chapter ? In the things in which the excellence
of an editor is supposed mainly to consist — the colla-
tion of texts, the correction of errors, and the clearing
up of obscurities — he failed relatively, or in the eyes
of some almost absolutely. In spite of all this there is
ample reason for ascribing to him industry. It was not
to these aims of the modern conscientious editor that
Pope's attention was mainly directed, It was the meter
for which he specially cared, not the matter. Therefore
it was to the rectification of the measure that he largely
devoted himself. It was a task congenial to his taste
and his temperament, and in performing it his activity
was ceaseless. In the text of Shakespeare, as it has
come down to us, there are defective lines, there are
redundant lines, there are lines that do not read
smoothly. It was an object which Pope kept steadily
in view to remove these irregularities, to reduce every-
thing to the measured monotony of eighteenth-century
versification. To bring about this result, words were
inserted in the verse, words were thrown out, or the
order of words was changed. To these three classes

108

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

belonged the vast majority of Pope's emendations. Nor
were they few in number. On the contrary, they
mounted into the thousands. Sometimes indeed the
whole method of expression underwent transformation.
As a general rule these omissions, additions, and altera-
tions were in one sense unimportant. Very rarely do
they affect the meaning. Still, this is not always the
case; it could not well be. The rage of emendation
is something against which the sanest of editors has
always to be on his guard. Once under its influence he
never knows to what extremes he will insensibly be
driven.

In dealing with the text of Shakespeare, Pope followed
the unchecked license of editors of English classics before
and after his time. He did with it what seemed right in
his own eyes. In the matter of versification in particu-
lar, he gave unrestrained loose to his passion for me-
chanical regularity. The changes he made were in
consequence exceedingly numerous. Furthermore, they
were nearly all made silently. In scarcely a single in-
stance where the line has undergone alteration for the
sake of, the meter is there the slightest hint furnished of
the deviation which has taken place from the original.
What has been observed of the words constituting the
vocabulary is equally true of the verse as a whole. In
any given case we are never sure whether we have the
text in the exact form in which Shakespeare presumably
wrote it, or as Pope altered it. With him indeed began
the practice so prevalent in the eighteenth century of
reducing the lines to the uniformity which men had
learned to love. If this could be done by him we

109

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

need not feel surprised at the conduct of his admirers
and imitators. They improved upon the example he had
furnished. For though he had reaped a great part of
this particular harvest, there was still a good deal left
for later meter-mongers to glean.

The process was objectionable, the results were un-
trustworthy. It was objectionable, not merely because
it represented Shakespeare berouged, periwigged, and at-
tired generally according to the fashionable literary mode
of the eighteenth century, but because it often happened
that what was gained in artificial harmony was more than
lost in expressiveness and force. It was untrustworthy
because the changes made wxere sometimes due to the
ignorance of the grammar and pronunciation of the
period as well as of its methods of versification. No
small share of the work of later students of Shake-
speare has been to relieve the text from the alterations
made in it by earlier editors, and to restore it as far as
possible to the state in which it had originally appeared.
Consequently, while it can be justly said that Pope de-
voted much time and labor to the work he had assumed,
it is equally just to say that it was largely time wasted
and labor misemployed. It is a question indeed whether
the text of Shakespeare suffered more from his indolence
or from his industry.

A"fc**the outset it certainly suffered more from his
industry. Little conception have we now of the all-
powerful influence wielded by Pope in his own time,
especially during the latter years of his life. It occa-
sionally overrode, as we shall have oecasion to see, all
considerations of probability, justice, and truth. In the

110

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

particular subject under discussion his influence was ma-
terially aided by the then general ignorance of what we
now call English scholarship, or rather by the absolute
indifference to it which prevailed. So uncritical was the
age, so potent was Pope's opinion, especially in matters
of versification, that the host of changes silently made
by him in the text with the implied or avowed intent of
improving and perfecting it, were blindly adopted by his
immediate successors without any thought apparently of
questioning their necessity or desirability. That Ham-
mer and Warburton should have accepted the remodel-
ling he made of the lines is not surprising. But it shows
how unbounded was the deference paid to his metrical
skill that these alterations should have been so largely
left undisturbed by Theobald.

It gives even a more impressive idea of the authority
attaching to Pope's opinion that in regard to matters in
which he is recognized to have been no authority at all,
his procedure was frequently followed by Theobald with-
out protest or question. Utterly indefensible additions
made by him received in numerous instances the sanction
of his immediate successor, and hence of those still later.
In particular, the passages already mentioned, which he
foisted into the text from plays with which he confessed
Shakespeare had had nothing to do, were adopted from
him by his rival editor. There was a possible excuse
for this course in the case of the lines borrowed from
'The Taming of a Shrew.' That comedy Theobald
had never had an opportunity to examine. He might
in consequence feel that there was justification for in-
cluding the lines which had been inserted from it into

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the text. Indeed, Capell declared much later that he
had been unable to secure the play, though he had
taken great pains to trace it; and that Pope was the
only editor by whom up to that time it had been seen.1
But even here Theobald's action was inexcusable. It
was bad enough to print the lines supplied; it was
far worse not to follow his predecessor in indicating
the foreign source from which they came.

Furthermore, in the case of * King John ' Theobald's
course had not the sanction of his own conscience. In
that play he adopted Pope's additions with the perfect
knowledge that there was no warrant at all in the origi-
nal for their insertion. To the longer of the two
spurious passages — the twelve lines of dialogue between
Austria and Falconbridge — he indeed interposed an
objection. He protested in a note that they were not
essential to the clearing up of the circumstances of the
action, as Pope had pretended. He proved conclusively
that the ground for the quarrel between the Bastard and
the Austrian duke had been sufficiently denoted already ;
that consequently the lines borrowed from the old play
had been adopted arbitrarily and unjustifiably. After
doing all this he then proceeded to insert them in his
own edition. "As the verses are not bad I have not
cashiered them," he wrote.2 No clearer view could be
given of the early eighteenth-century idea of editing the
text of an English author than are these words coming
from one of its most conscientious scholars. It was this
submission of his own judgment to that of the man who

1 Capell's Shakespeare, vol. i., Introduction, p. 2.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 200.

112

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

had despitefully used him that gave Capell his pretext
for denouncing Theobald as being no better collator than
Pope himself.

Two or three other characteristics of Pope's edition
need to be mentioned before passing to the controversy
that was occasioned by it. He threw out, on the ground
of both matter and manner, " those wretched plays," as
he styled them, which had been added to the third folio
and had been subsequently included not only in the
fourth, but in the two editions of Rowe. Though they
were but seven in number, he with his usual heedlessness
spoke of them in the preface to his first edition as eight.1
For taking this course he had the authority of the first
two folios ; but there is no question that his main reason
for discarding them was his perception of their inferior-
ity as literature. Since his action these have been no
longer included in the accepted canon of Shakespeare's
writings with the one exception of i Pericles.'

This view of the additions to the folio of 1663 was not
a new one to take. It was a conclusion which anybody
would be certain to reach the moment he approached the
consideration of them in a critical spirit. It had in fact
been both entertained and expressed many years before.
Gildon informs us that the great actor, Betterton, had
told him that these pieces were spurious. He himself
admitted * Pericles,' but the other six he condemned with
unwarrantable extravagance. He declared that they
had not anything in them, not so much even as a line, to
lead any one to think them of Shakespeare's composition.2

1 Pope's Shakespear, vol. i. p. xx.

2 Poems of Shakespeare (c<l. of 1714), p. 373.

9 11,<5

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

But though Pope had been anticipated in his view,
he was the first to carry it into practice. It needed
in truth a man of his literary position to defy at
that time the precedent which had been established for
including them ; and perhaps to no one else would the
assent to the exclusion from the canon have been then
so unresistingly accorded. His judgment in rejecting
them has never been seriously called in question, with
the one exception already noted, by any Englishman, in
spite of all the absurd vagaries which are wont to mas-
querade under the guise of Shakespeare study. No one
indeed in these modern times is likely to stand up unqual-
ifiedly for the genuineness of any of the numerous plays
once attributed at times to the dramatist, but now utterly
discarded, unless it may be an occasional German. That
very possibility is of itself proof how little a foreigner is
ever qualified to appreciate the subtle characteristics
which disclose to the native the genuineness or spurious-
ness of particular works. External evidence he may
judge accurately; internal evidence is to him largely
a sealed book.

It gives in truth a vivid view of the sort of Shake-
speare that Germany might have conferred upon us, if
we mark the pieces of varying degrees of wretchedness
which have been ascribed to him by some of her fore-
most scholars and critics. Their conclusions furnish an
interesting commentary upon the claim, sometimes ig-
norantly put forth in her behalf, that she was the first
to reveal the poet to the men of his own race. Tieck,
for instance, was one of the most enthusiastic of the
early foreign devotees of the dramatist. His natural

114

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

superiority in literary appreciation and insight to the
great mass of such students, no one would be likely to
question. Nor for that matter did he himself entertain
any doubt as to his excelling in this respect Shake-
speare's countrymen. He observed that the weak side
of the later English commentators was poetic criticism.
He censured them for their contemptuous rejection of
the proposition that Shakespeare was concerned in any
one of the numerous pieces for which groundless rumor
or bookselling craft had made him responsible. Then
he proceeded to exhibit his own critical sagacity by
treating several of these plays as certain or possible pro-
ductions of the dramatist. There was no doubt in his
mind that it was from Shakespeare's pen alone that
1 Arden of Feversham ' could have come.1 Others may
have belonged to the period of his youth. Why, he
said, should not * Fair Em ' have been a specimen of the
feeble strivings of his poetic pinions when without
knowledge and without experience he first sought to
write for the stage ? 2 Why should not Shakespeare, he
again asked, have conformed to the practice then preva-
lent and joined a weaker poet in the composition of
1 The Birth of Merlin ' ? 3 These views are sometimes
put forth hesitatingly, to be sure; that they could be
put forth at all furnishes convincing evidence of how
utterly great abilities in possession of the foreigner fail
to acquire that instinctive sense of the possible in au-
thorship which seems to fall almost as an inheritance to

1 Tieck's Kritische Schriftcn, Erster Band, s. 261 (Leipzig, 1848).

2 Ibid. ■. 279.

3 Ibid. 8. 304.

115

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the native of comparatively moderate powers who has
once imbued himself with the feeling of a writer's man-
ner and familiarized himself with his characteristic
methods of expression.

The case is even worse with Schlegel, the creator in
part of that version of Shakespeare which is regarded as
one of the great masterpieces, if not the great master-
piece of German translation. This critic, who had un-
hesitatingly proclaimed the superiority of the dramatic
art of the great Elizabethan to that of the so-called
classical school, accepted as probably, or rather as cer-
tainly genuine the seven pieces which from the time
of Pope had. been, with one exception, thrown out of
every English edition as unmistakably spurious. Nor
was he content with this negative approval. Three of
the seven — * Thomas Lord Cromwell,' ' Sir John Old-
castle,' and 'The Yorkshire Tragedy' — he declared to
be not only written by Shakespeare but to deserve being
classed among his best and maturest works.1 The two
former were in his opinion models of the biographical
drama. In the last of the three mentioned the tragic
effect was declared to be overpowering ; of special sig-
nificance indeed was the poetical way in which the
subject had been handled. Schlegel's criticism of the
art displayed by Shakespeare exhibited the keenest in-
sight. When it came to a question in which literary
sensitiveness was a determining factor in reaching a cor-
rect decision we can see for ourselves the result. One,
indeed, often comes to have the feeling that if Germany

1 A. W. Schlegel's Dramatische Vorlesungeu, zweiter Theil, zweite
Abtheilung, s. 238 (Heidelberg, 1814).

116

POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

had had its way completely, Shakespeare would have
received credit for the authorship of most of the pieces
which he did not write, and would have been deprived
of the credit of most of those which he did.

It is needless to insist, however, upon the superiority
of Pope's taste and discrimination to any qualities of
that sort possessed by a foreigner. There was, indeed,
one peculiarity of his edition which was mainly due to
his appreciation of literature as literature. To a certain
extent he made it a collection of elegant extracts taken
from Shakespeare. He distinguished what he called
the most shining passages by commas at the beginning
of the lines, and where the beauty lay not in particulars
but in the whole he prefixed an asterisk to the scene.
It was something which by nature he was qualified and
by inclination was disposed to do. Yet, even here we
are occasionally treated to surprises. The celebrated
passage, for example, in ' Richard III.' in which Clar-
ence relates to Bracken bury his terrible dream finds
with him neither general nor specific approval. Still,
this portion of the work he had assumed was, as a whole,
well done ; it will always remain a question whether it
was worth doing. Such designation of beauties lies
justly open to the censure which Johnson passed upon
it in the proposals he put forth for his own edition.
Johnson asserted that for that part of his task which
consisted in the observation of faults and excellences
Pope was eminently and indisputably fitted, and for this
only. " But I have never observed," he added some-
what dryly, " that mankind was much delighted with
and improved by these asterisks, commas, or double

117

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

commas ; of which the only effect is that they preclude
the pleasure of judging for ourselves, teach the young
and ignorant to decide without principles ; defeat curi-
osity and discernment by leaving them less to discover ;
and at last show the opinion of the critic without the
reason on which it was founded, and without affording
any light by which it may be examined." It is to be
added that the only other editor who followed this prac-
tice was Warburton.

To the completed work Pope furthermore contributed
a preface. During most of the eighteenth century —
down to and including the variorum of 1821 — this was
reprinted in nearly all the editions which followed. It
was also regarded, almost universally, as the proper thing
to admire. The opinions of a man of genius are as-
suredly always worth considering. In this instance too
they have a historic value, because here Pope repre-
sented fairly the general critical attitude of his time in
regard to the merits and defects of Shakespeare. It had
besides some special excellences of its own. It took
sensible ground upon the learning of Shakespeare, or
his alleged want of learning. It denied the truth of
the opinion even, then prevalent that Ben Jonson was
his enemy. There are, furthermore, several very fine
and genuine tributes paid to Shakespeare's greatness.
But, as a whole, the preface cannot be conceded much
critical value from the modern point of view. In some
places, besides, it was disfigured by errors of fact.
Worse than all, it was made at times the vehicle to con-
vey the editor's opinion, not of the author he was seek-
ing to illustrate, but of the men for whom he had come

to entertain dislike.

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POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT

Pope's relations with the actors of his day were never
cordial after the failure, in 1817, of 4 Three Hours after
Marriage.' Towards Colley Gibber, on the whole the
most noted representative of the theatrical world, he ex-
hibited during the last twenty-five years of his life pecu-
liar venom. His feelings colored many of the assertions
he made in his preface, and affected to some extent his
method of editing the text. Of the players of Shake-
speare's time he invariably spoke with contempt — ap-
parently forgetting that Shakespeare himself was one of
them. Upon them, he chose to charge — as has already
been intimated — everything he found in the dramas of
the nature of mean conceits or petty ribaldry. It was
they who were responsible for this stuff. It was they
who had sought to tickle the ears of the groundlings
by foisting these ridiculous passages into the plays.
Shakespeare was exempted from censure in order by
so doing to belabor his theatrical associates. All this
may be so ; but Pope was in no position to prove that
it was so.

The defects of Pope's edition were naturally far from
being as evident to his own generation, and even gener-
ations much later, as they are now. At the time, men
grumbled much more at the extravagant price at which
it was issued than they did at the character of the edit-
ing. The one was a matter which the very dullest
could comprehend ; of the other it was in the power of
extremely few to form anything like an intelligent opin-
ion. The dissatisfaction was not lessened by the pub-
lisher's advertisement, when the work was on the point
of appearing, that the price would bo advanced for those

119

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

who were not subscribers. It was a further subject of
complaint that the binding of the volumes would in-
crease considerably the cost of what was already too
costly.1 As Pope had publicly proclaimed that the sub-
scription was not for his benefit, the wrath of men was
directed against Tonson. Still, it is clear that vague
suspicions were entertained, both then and afterward, of
the poet's complicity in the whole scheme.

The expression of feeling just indicated, the publisher
doubtless bore with equanimity ; but he as well as his
editor was pretty surely disturbed by criticism of an-
other kind which came from another quarter. During
the years that had elapsed since the publication of
Rowe's first edition, there had been growing up a small
body of men who had given and were giving a good deal
of time and thought to the study of Shakespeare. They
had learned by diligent examination something of the
difficulties presented by the received text, they had
gained some idea of the measures that needed to be
taken to effect its restoration. To such persons, the
failure of Pope's methods was apparent. It was easy
to set in sharpest contrast the difference that existed
between what he had promised and what he had per-
formed. From out this number, came forward one to
subject to strictest examination the work which had
been so pompously heralded. He was of all English-
men then living the man best equipped for the task.
His name was Lewis Theobald.

1 See, for example, articles in ' Mist's Journal ' for March 20 and
March 27, 1725.

120

CHAPTER VII

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

The career of Pope is so well known that any por-
trayal of it in a work of this character would be justly
deemed an act of supererogation, if not of impertinence.
Accordingly nothing in regard to it shall be given here
save what is necessary to explain his connection with the
Shakespearean quarrel in which he became engaged.
No such course, however, can be followed in the case of
the man with whom he came into collision. Of him but
little is known ; much of the little said to be known is
wrong. It becomes, therefore, a matter of some conse-
quence to give a fairly full account of the scholar who is
one of the two leading figures in the first and fiercest
of the controversies which have arisen in regard to the
text of Shakespeare.

This man was Lewis Theobald, or Tibbald, as the
name was regularly spelled by Pope. It was perhaps so
written by him to accord with the pronunciation. He
and Pope were, in the most exact sense of the word, con-
temporaries. P>oth were born in 1G88, both died in 1744.
To a certain extent they engaged in the same pursuits.
Both wrote poetry, both put forth translations of ancient
writers, both edited Shakespeare. Here the resemblance
ceases. The one, a man of genius, became the acknowl-

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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

edged head of the poets of his time. The other was a
middling writer, whose productions, though sometimes
far from being actually bad, had little reputation while
he was alive, and from the time of his death have been
subjected to constant depreciation, especially from those
who have never read a line of them. On the other hand,
he possessed a critical acumen in the rectification of cor-
rupted texts vouchsafed to but few. He as much sur-
passed Pope as a commentator as the latter surpassed
him as a poet. He was the first great editor of Shake-
speare, and still remains one of the few entitled to be
so designated.

Theobald was born in Sittingbourne, Kent, a few
weeks before Pope. His father was an attorney who
died while the son Avas still young. Theobald tells us
himself that it was to a member of the nobility, a portion
of whose estates was in the neighborhood of his birth-
place, that he owed everything. This patron it was who
had screened him, to use substantially his own words,
from the distresses of orphanage and a shattered fortune ;
who, not content with protecting him from the cradle,
had given him an education, which he could fairly boast
to have been liberal ; for during seven years he had been
the companion and fellow-student of his son. The
patron was Lewis Watson, the first earl of Rockingham.
The son, who died before his father, was viscount Sondes.
He was very nearly of the same age as Theobald. Had
he lived, it is no unreasonable supposition that his old
schoolmate would have been spared many of the anxi-
eties and troubles which later were to beset his life.

There can be no question that Theobald's education
122

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

was liberal. The instruction he received must have been
exceptionally good, and it is clear that he well improved
his opportunities. There was a common consent among
his contemporaries best qualified to judge that he was
exceedingly well stored with classical learning. Even in
his later years, when he was subjected to constant attack,
those who depreciated his ability were very cautious as
to the reflections they ventured to cast upon his scholar-
ship. That was an exploit reserved for later times and
for men who had not one tithe of his knowledge. But
however ample may have been the learning which he
came to possess, it was not acquired at any of the great
public schools of England or at either of the universities.
According to a brief account — doubtless submitted to
him, if not furnished by him — which was contained in
a collection of biographies published during his lifetime,
his studies were carried on chiefly under the Reverend
Mr. Ellis, of Isleworth in Middlesex.1 It was doubtless
at tli is place and under that instructor that he and vis-
count Sondes were fellow-students.

Theobald was destined for the profession of the law
and began its practice. He perhaps never abandoned it
entirely, for there are several contemporary references
to him as engaged in the pursuit. Indeed in a letter of
his own to Warburton, written in March, 1729, lie told
his correspondent that he had been fatigued with more
law business than the present crisis of his affairs made
desirable.2 It does not follow with certainty from these
words that he was then actually practising his profession ;

1 Jacob's 'Poetical Register/ vol. i. p. 257 (ed. of 1723).
- Letter of March is, i7i>!», in Nichols, roL ii. i>. 204.

L23

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

but it is the most natural interpretation of them. Still,
in any case law was with him an avocation rather than a
vocation. The attention he paid to it became, and prob-
ably early became, entirely subordinate to other pursuits.
His heart was in literature, ancient and modern, espe-
cially in the literature of the drama. To this he made
contributions of his own, such as they were, during his
whole life. While his abilities were not sufficient to
lift him out of the common ruck of theatrical writers,
the familiarity he acquired with the stage, and what is
called its business, was of essential service to him in the
great achievement of his life, the interpretation and
emendation of the text of Shakespeare.

After a fashion he was precocious. It is not at all
unlikely that his appetite for knowledge and his devo-
tion to study was the main motive that led his patron
to provide him with the means of acquiring an educa-
tion. In one way Theobald's zeal was misdirected. It
is evident that from his early years he was fired with
poetic ambition, and his desire for distinction in this
field never forsook him entirely during his whole life.
In 1707, when he was less than twenty years old, he
made his first appearance in print. It was with the pro-
duction of one of those spurious Pindaric odes which
Cowley had brought into vogue, and which had been
afflicting English literature since his death. The sub-
ject of the poem was the union of Scotland and England
which had been effected the preceding year. This ode,
which was published as written by Lewis Theobald,
Gent., was dedicated to his kinsman John Glanville,
of Broadhurston, Wiltshire. It was preceded by some

124

TEE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

eulogistic verses addressed to the author by "an in-
genious and obliging friend," who signed himself J. D.
To those who knew Theobald personally a certain in-
terest for that very reason would then attach to the
production. To them the merit attributed to the piece,
whatever it was, would be further enhanced by the
youth of the writer. The only attraction it can have
for us now is the exceeding absurdity of much that
was written. It is with the following lines the poem
opens :

" Haste, Polyhymnia, haste ; thy shell prepare :
I have a message thou must bear,
But to the car a salamander tie :
Thou canst not on a sunbeam play,
And scud it through the realms of day,
Where great Hyperion sits enthroned on high."

This extract — pretty plainly inspired by the opening
lines of Cowley's ' Muse ' — will be sufficient to satisfy
the cravings of the most curious in regard to the
author's early poetic achievement. It is just to add,
however, that it is about the worst part of the worst
piece he ever wrote.

In what way Theobald came to have a connection
with the theater there seem to be no means of ascertain-
ing. Yet in 1708, the year following the production of
his ode, he accomplished a feat which, though not un-
rivalled in the annals of precocity, is for all that one of
the rarest in the history of the stage. At this particu-
lar time there was in London but one play-house with
but one company of players. To it and to them aspir-
ants for dramatic fame were necessarily compelled to offer
their productions. Accordingly the rejections could not

125

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

have failed to be numerous, and the favor of the manager
and actors by no means easy to secure. Yet on the 31st
of May, 1708, was performed at Drury Lane a play
of Theobald's entitled * The Persian Princess, or the
Royal Villain.' On that day he was but a few weeks
over twenty years of age. The piece was preceded by
a prologue which pleaded the youth of the writer as
a reason for indulgence. We may form what estimate
we choose of the play itself; but to have a production
of this sort accepted and performed at the sole theater
then existing in London and with its two principal
parts taken by the leading tragic actors of the time,
Wilks and Booth, must be regarded as a wonderful
achievement for an author who was nothing but a
mere boy.

It is hardly necessary to observe that ' The Persian
Princess' is not a great play. Nor does it seem to
have met with any particular success. Though called a
tragedy, it ends happily for the hero and the heroine.
Tragical it is, however, to an extent sufficient to satisfy
the taste most sanguinarily disposed. It conforms fully
to the Elizabethan tradition as to the shedding of blood.
Of the eight male characters four are despatched on the
stage ; and while it is behind the scenes that a fifth swal-
lows the poison which destroys his life, care was taken
to exhibit to the audience a full view of his dying agonies.
Though the piece was brought out in 1708, it was not
till 1715 that it was published. If the form in which it
appeared at the latter date was the form in which it was
acted, it must be deemed, in spite of certain absurdities
and extravagances, a by no means poor production for

126

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

so young a writer. Theobald on his part took pains to
give the impression that no changes had been made in
the interval which had elapsed between performance and
publication. In the introduction which he furnished to
the play when printed, he asserted that he had been so
much occupied in the translation of works of importance
that he had had no time to throw away in correcting and
improving this early production. Furthermore he tells
us that it was written and acted before he was fully
nineteen. This may have been true of the compo-
sition ; it was assuredly untrue of the performance.
There was indeed in his language an affected tone of
depreciation of the work as a trifling piece which had
been suffered to lie in obscurity for half a dozen years
until the repeated importunities of friends had wrung
from him a reluctant consent to the publication. No
great weight need be attached to assertions of this sort.
The request of friends was part of the stock in trade
which every writer of the eighteenth century felt at
liberty to draw upon as a pretext for venturing into
print.

At a somewhat early period in his life — the date
cannot be fixed with our present knowledge — Theo-
bald took up his permanent residence in London. To a
certain extent he led there for a long time the life of
a hack-writer, though most of the work he set out to
perform was a good deal above the capacity of the
literary proletariat which then and later swarmed in
that city. During the latter half of this interval, and
the period immediately following, we find him busied
with the composition of all sorts of productions, ranging

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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

from the highest kind of poetry to the humblest prose.
He wrote biographies, he wrote .original poems, he wrote
short pieces on all sorts of topics which had for the
moment engaged the attention of the public. He fol-
lowed the literary fashion which had been set a few
years before by Steele and Addison and had now become
general. He produced a series of periodical papers
under the title of 'The Censor.' These were begun
in April, 1715, and appeared three times a week for
thirty numbers. They were then discontinued with
the intention of being taken up again in four months ;
but it was not until January, 1717, a year and a half
later, that the work was resumed. With the publication
of the ninety-sixth number on the first of June of that
year it concluded.1

In these various attempts Theobald attained a moder-
ate degree of success. His productions were almost
invariably respectable, even when prepared solely to
meet an immediate demand, though not a single one of
them has any claim to distinction. It was doubtless the
wish to relieve the wants of the moment that led to the
composition of most of the slighter pieces. Yet, though
regularly under the necessity of earning his subsistence,
Theobald seems, during at least the greater part of his
life, to have been free from the pressure of actual need.

1 It is a common statement that these essays were originally puhlished
in ' Mist's Journal.' Indeed Nichols, in his ' Illustrations of the Literary
History of the Eighteenth Century' (vol. ii. p. 715), says that they not
only appeared in it, hut appeared in 1726. It is sufficient to say that
' Mist's Journal ' was a weekly, and that ' The Censor ' was published
three times a week ; and further that thirty numbers of ' The Censor' had
been published before the end of June 1715, while the first number of
'Mist's Journal,' came out in December, 1716.

128

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

That his means were always limited, we can feel fairly
certain ; that at times he found himself in pecuniary
straits, there is every reason to believe ; but what little
evidence exists gives no countenance to the prevalent
belief that he was ever subjected to the pressure of
genuine poverty. Naturally he resorted to all sorts of
expedients to help out his income. In particular he fol-
lowed the general custom of his time in dedicating his
productions to persons of wealth and station. Among
them he clearly had some warm friends and patrons,
and from them doubtless he received aid that contrib-
uted materially to his support.

Much unnecessary pity has indeed been wasted upon
Theobald for the extent to which he has been supposed
to be in straitened circumstances. That he should have
been in them at all was lamentable because it had the
effect of hindering him from carrying on the work for
which he was peculiarly fitted. A poor man in one
sense of the phrase he manifestly was, during his whole
life. That condition was practically forced upon him
by the character of the studies in which he was con-
cerned. The pursuit of learning and the pursuit of
wealth are, strictly speaking, incompatible ; and Theo-
bald was too much devoted to the one to expect many
favors from the other. Yet he was enabled to support
a wife and certainly one child. Furthermore, the place
of his residence and the length of time he spent in it
are utterly inconsistent with the idea of indigence. At
the beginning of the Shakespearean controversy his
home was in Wyan's Court, Great Russell Street,
BloGmsbury. There he spent the rest of his life. To
* 129

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

his house intending subscribers were asked to come to
examine works for which proposals had been issued.
There also they were to receive the volumes for which
they had subscribed. A continuous residence for at
least a score of years in a quarter of London not given
over to the poverty-stricken must have demanded a
fairly regular income, no matter how small. Such facts
as these and others yet to be recited do not indeed prove
him to have been well-to-do, but they utterly dispose
of the frequent assumption that his condition was one of
penury.

Two subjects there were to which at this earlier period
of his life he especially devoted himself ; and to one of
them he remained faithful almost to the end of his days.
For a time, however, his main interest seemed to lie in
making versions of the Greek and Roman classics. He
did something in this line ; he purposed doing a great
deal more. The account-book of the publisher Lintot,
under date of May, 1713, records the payment to Theo-
bald of several pounds for a translation of the Phaedo of
Plato which was published that year.1 It further shows
that he had entered into a contract to render the plays of
^Eschylus in blank verse. About a year later he had
agreed with the same publisher to produce a translation
of the * Odyssey ' in the same measure, with explanatory
notes; and also four specified tragedies of Sophocles.
For every four hundred and fifty verses, with the accom-
panying annotation, he was to receive the sum of fifty
shillings. Further he was to render in ryme the satires

1 Nichols' ' Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century,' vol. viii.
p. 301.

130

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

and epistles of Horace. In the case of this author for
every one hundred and twenty verses he translated he
was to be paid twenty-one shillings and sixpence. A
line appears drawn through this contract as if for some
reason the project had been abandoned. Its existence,
however, makes clear that no poor opinion was enter-
tained either of the abilities or the scholarship of Theo-
bald ; for it is to be kept in mind that he was not then
twenty-six years old.

The translation of a single play of Sophocles is all of
the magnificent programme then projected which was
carried into execution. The most singular thing indeed
about these undertakings is that Theobald did not pro-
duce the work he had engaged to do, but on the other
hand did produce works of the same character which so
far as any evidence now exists, he was under no obliga-
tion to do. He published versions of three plays of
Sophocles, the Electra and Ajax in 1714 and the (Edipus
Tyr annus in 1715. The last is the only one of the four
which, accordixig to his agreement with Lin tot, he was
to render into English. Furthermore in 1715 he brought
out versions of the Plutus and the Clouds oi Aristoph-
anes. He made no translation of the satires and
epistles of Horace ; but if contemporary evidence can be
trusted, he produced, as if in place of it, a version of the
Metamorphoses of Ovid. A statement to that effect is
given in the account of his life contained in Jacob's
] Poetical Register,' above cited.1 It is further confirmed
by a remark of Dennis which had appeared, as early as
1717, in his review of Pope's translation of Homer. The

i Vol.ii. p. 211.

131

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

critic had been irritated by the attacks upon himself in
1 The Censor ' and by the outspoken praise accorded to the
version of the ' Iliad ' then in process of publication. He
was not slow to retort in the genial tone prevalent in the
criticism of that day. He spoke of Theobald as " a
notorious idiot who had lately burlesqued the Metamor-
phoses of Ovid by a vile translation." 2

One undertaking of Theobald's there was which has
been made the pretext for casting utterly unfounded re-
flections upon his course in relation to Pope. His inter-
est in Greek literature naturally involved interest in its
foremost poet. During the last years of the reign of
Queen Anne, Homer had become the great subject of lit-
erary conversation and controversy in consequence of
Pope's projected version of the ' Iliad. ' Theobald was
naturally affected by a feeling so widely prevalent. In
1714 he published a critical discussion of the epic in
question. The first part of Pope's translation of the
* Iliad ' had come from the publishing-house of Lintot in
1715. Not long after the same house issued a translation
by Theobald of the first book of the ' Odyssey ' with
notes. It seems to have been put forth as a sort of ex-
periment, and was accompanied with proposals for bring-
ing out by subscription a complete version of this epic.2

1 Remarks upon Pope's Translation of Homer (1717), p. 9.

2 The pamphlet devoted to a critical discussion of the ' Iliad ' and the
translation of the first book of the ' Odyssey ' I have never seen. Both seem
to be exceedingly rare. Neither of them is to be found in the library of
the British Museum or in the Bodleian. It will be noticed that Pope
gives 1717 as the date of the publication of the latter. Nichols, in his list
of the works printed by Bowyer, refers the appearance of the work to
November, 1716. ('Literary Anecdotes/ etc. vol. i. p. 80.) It may be
added that the translation of the Metamorphoses seems to have disap-

132

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

The scheme never went farther. The necessary number
of subscribers was clearly not secured. Knowledge of
this projected translation has indeed so entirely disap-
peared that most of those who are fairly familiar with the
period are ignorant of the fact that it was ever even con-
templated. A reference to it is found in 4 The Dunoiad '
of 1729, in a note on Theobald, which has disappeared
from modern editions. " He had once in mind," said
Pope, li to translate the 4 Odyssey,' the first book whereof
was printed in 1717 by Lintot, and probably may yet be
seen at his shop." 2

We have been told by an authority in general fairly
trustworthy that the pamphlet by Theobald upon the
4 Iliad ' and the proposed translation of the ' Odyssey '
are " circumstances which sufficiently account for his
situation in the * Dunciad.' " 2 They had nothing to
do with it whatever. In this instance the assertion is
due purely to ignorance. But it has been Theobald's
peculiar fortune that whenever knowledge of any event
in his career is lacking, an attempt has always been made
to supply its place by derogatory suggestion. Prejudice
has never permitted a resort to the natural and indeed
necessary interpretation. Disraeli in his 4 Quarrels of
Authors ' professed to be in doubt whether Theobald's
translations were made from the original Greek. He
came to the conclusion that they must be, from the
cancelled entries which have already been mentioned.

peared as effectually as the other two works just mentioned. It is not
found in either of the two great English libraries, at least under the name
of Theobald.

1 Dunciad, Hook 1, line 100 (quarto of 1729)

2 Nichols' 'Literary Anecdotes,' vol. i. p. 80.

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His ignorance of the man's classical scholarship, which
far exceeded his own, might be pardoned, though there
was no necessity of exhibiting it ; but the surmise which
followed was as gratuitous as it was ridiculous. " Per-
haps," he added, " Lin tot submitted to pay Theobald for
not doing the « Odyssey ' when Pope undertook it."

It is enough to say of this suggestion that the trans-
lator of the ' Iliad ' had not at the time the slightest
idea of becoming a translator of the other epic ; nor did
he engage in the latter task until Theobald's project had
been so long given up that it was practically forgotten.
At the same time it is more than likely that the inferior
author's willingness, if not desire, to produce a transla-
tion of the ' Odyssey ' was stimulated by, if it did not
owe its origin to, the interest which had been aroused by
Pope's version of the i Iliad.' To attempt something of
the same nature as that undertaken by the first poet
of the age was a natural ambition on the part of every
aspirant for reputation in letters. So far as knowledge
of the ancient languages was concerned Theobald was
inconceivably better equipped for the task than his great
contemporary. The infinitely more important element
of poetic genius was lacking entirely. This readers
of every stamp were certain to recognize. It cannot,
consequently, excite any surprise that the public which
had welcomed Pope's projected translation with avid-
ity should have been disposed to look with absolute
indifference upon the new enterprise recommended to
its consideration.

A few translations contained in a miscellany called
'The Grove' complete all of Theobald's attempts of

134

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

this character which ever saw the light. This work
was brought out in 1721. The versions he contrib-
uted to it from the pseudo-Musseus, from Sophocles,
iEschylus, and Theocritus ended his published efforts
as a translator. It was not in this way that he could
hope to gain distinction. Yet the desire lasted a good
while after every promise of success failed. There was,
in particular, one undertaking of this nature in which
he was interested for a period of years, though perhaps
intermittently. This was a translation of the seven ex-
tant plays of iEschylus. It was a task for which he
would seem to us to have been pre-eminently unfitted.
Yet if we can infer what the whole would have been
from the version of two passages contributed by him
to the periodical essays he wrote, * it would have been,
though not a great, a reputable piece of work. Further-
more, we have the assurance of a thoroughly competent
critic that the version which he actually made of the
three tragedies of Sophocles was "in free and spirited
blank verse " and that his version of the two comedies
of Aristophanes was "in vigorous and racy colloquial
prose." 2

To the projected translation of ^schylus he certainly
devoted more or less of the time and attention of years.
There seems little reason to doubt that so far as prepa-
ration for the press was concerned, it was fully com-
pleted. That he had it in mind as early as 1713 has
been shown by the entry in Lintot's account-book.
The brief contemporary notice of his life, which was

1 Censor, No GO, March 9, 1717.

2 Cliurton Collins, in 'Diet, of N:it. Biography,' vol. lvi. p. 118.

135

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

probably submitted to his revision, states definitely that
the work was then finished. He issued proposals for its
publication, which was fixed for April, 1724. In 1726, at
the conclusion of his ' Shakespeare Restored ' he begged
the pardon of his subscribers for the delay. The best
apology he could make was that in the interval he had
been at the expense of copper-plates to be prefixed to
each tragedy, and had also been engaged in a complete
history of the ancient stage as a prefatory disser-
tation.

The failure to bring out the work was pretty certainly
due to his inability to secure an adequate subscription
to meet the expense of publication. If difficult before
the appearance of i The Dunciad,' after that event it
practically became impossible. Dennis in his criticism
upon that satire incidentally gives us to understand that
there had not been sufficient encouragement to carry
through the project. His essay was dedicated to Theo-
bald himself. Among other things it contained remarks
upon this very point. "If your translation of jEschy-
lus," he said, addressing him, " is equal to the specimen
which I have seen of it, of which I make no doubt, it
may make him," — that is, Pope, — " blush for his trans-
lation of Homer." Dennis then referred to the failure
of both Theobald and Ambrose Philips to receive the
support of the public in their projected undertakings.
"If neither of you," he continued, "have had a sub-
scription adequate to your merits, it is because in this
wise and judicious age, the age of operas, of 4 Beggars'
Operas,' of ' Dunciads,' and 4 Hurlothrumbos,' 't is not in
the nature of things at present, and consequently an im-

136

THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD

possibility that any author can have a generous subscrip-
tion to a work that highly deserves it."

Excuses of this sort did not avail Theobald against
the attacks of his implacable enemy. After the appear-
ance in 1726 of his review of Pope's edition of Shake-
speare constant sneers were indulged in at the poetical
ability displayed in this version of a classic of which
the censurer had never read a word. " His own cold
iEschylus " is the phrase applied in the original ' Dun-
ciad' to the expected translation.1 To a line announcing
the approach of " another iEschylus " he appended in
the quarto of 1729 a note describing the terror wrought
by the acting of one of the pieces of the Greek trage-
dian. He then proceeded to make some comments
upon the proposed version which were not calculated to
promote its success. " Tibbald," wrote Pope, " is trans-
lating this author: he printed a specimen of him many
years ago, of which I only remember that the first note
contains some comparison between Prometheus and
Christ crucified." 2 This was designed to excite against
the work religious prejudice. There is no need of call-
ing attention now, nor was there then, to the gross
unfairness of such criticism; but carrying with it the
authority of the first writer of the age, it was none the
less effective.

Pope further taunted Theobald with his failure to
bring out works for which he had secured subscriptions.

1 Dunciad, Book I., line 200 (editions of 1728). The line is not in
modern editions.

1 Dunciad, Hook III., lino 311 (editions of 1729); modern editions, lino
313. The part of the note here quoted was dropped in the ' Dunciad ' of
1743, and is not found in modern editions.

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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

In this same edition of 'The Dunciad' insinuations to
that effect were made. "He had been," wrote Pope
under the signature of Scriblerus, " (to use an expression
of our Poet) about JEschylus for ten years, and had
received subscriptions for the same, but then went about
other books." * When it seemed certain that Theobald
was to publish a full commentary upon Shakespeare
according to the scheme then proposed, these attacks
increased in virulence. They may have hindered him
from carrying his desire into effect, but they did not
destroy the desire itself. To a late period he clung to
the hope of bringing out his version of iEschylus. In
a note in his edition of Shakespeare 2 he discussed the
liberties taken with chronology by the English dramatist
and adduced numerous examples of the same practice
derived from other poets ancient and modern. "The
anachronisms of iEschylus," he observed, "I shall
reserve to my edition of that poet."

1 Dunciad, Book i., line 210 (editions of 1729). This note is not in
modern editions.

2 Vol. vii. p. 44.

138

CHAPTER VIII

The version of jEschylus, whether fully prepared for
the press or not, never passed beyond the stage of
manuscript. Nor indeed was it in translation from the
ancient drama that Theobald's greatest interest really
lay ; it was in the modern drama. He appears to have
been intimate with John Rich, who on the death of his
father Christopher in November, 1714, came into the
proprietorship of the play-house just erected in Lincoln's
Inn Fields. It is not impossible — though no evidence
whatever exists on the point — that it was his friendship
with the son that led to the father's acceptance of his
first play for performance at Drury Lane. At all events
there is no question as to his close connection for a
number of years with the new owner of the new theater.
By Mestayer, a writer with whom he shortly after came
into conflict, he was styled its deputy manager.1 Dennis,
a little later still, referred to him as having from
M an under-spur-leather of the law " become an " under-
strapper of the play-house." 2 Certain it is that he did
not disdain to assist Rich in the preparation of the

1 Preface to Mestayer's ■ Perfldioni Brother/ 1716.

2 Remarks on Pope's Homer, 1717, p. 9.

139

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

operas, masques, and pantomimes for which this theater
in the course of time became famous.

In their fondness for productions of this nature the
public of the first half of the eighteenth century appar-
ently went mad. Pantomime in particular had been
developed by Rich on a great scale. He himself, under
the name of Lun, took the principal part in the repre-
sentation. The ability displayed by this actor-manager,
especially in the character of Harlequin, seems, if we
can trust the concurrent voice of his contemporaries, to
have been almost marvellous. Entertainments of the
sort met indeed with such success that the rival theatre
of Drury Lane was forced to adopt them also. One
result of this was that for no inconsiderable while the
legitimate drama held the second place. In truth Theo-
bald, in dedicating to Rich the volume containing his
first emendations of the text of the greatest of English
playwrights, remarked that it seemed a strange thing
that in attempting to restore Shakespeare he should
address the work to the one man who had done a very
great deal towards banishing him from the stage and
confining acquaintance with him to the closet.

In the preparation of these operas and pantomimes
Theobald was largely concerned. There are about half
a score of them to which his name is appended as the
author of the libretto, or for which he is held responsible.
These performances had in all cases a good deal of a run,
and in some cases a very great run, much to the real or
simulated indignation of the lovers of the regular drama.
One of them, entitled ' The Rape of Proserpine,' was
brought out in 1725. It was received with such favor

140

THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

that many men saw in its success the decay of the stage,
and censured bitterly every one concerned in its produc-
tion and representation. Of course Theobald suffered
in the general denunciation. Still, the taste for these
entertainments lasted not only during the whole of his
life but long after. Naturally pieces of this character
had no permanent value. It was not upon their literary
merits that they depended for success, but upon their
spectacular and vocalic. There is, therefore, nothing
surprising in the fact that the matter Theobald furnished
belongs to the lowest class of middling poetry. Now
and then a good or even fine line shows itself, and per-
haps receives undue praise from the contrast with the
mass of commonplace in the midst of which it is em-
bedded. One of the last of the operas with the author-
ship of which he is justly or unjustly credited, was
entitled ' Orpheus and Eurydice ' and was brought out in
1739. It is a curious coincidence that the second line of
a couplet contained in it —

" By rigid death's remorseless doom,
She 's snatched away in beauty's bloom — "

corresponds almost word for word with a line beginning
one of Lord Byron's 'Hebrew Melodies.' While it is not
impossible, it is exceedingly improbable that Byron had
ever read this opera or had heard the verses just quoted
from it.

It was not to these dramatic trifles, however, that
Theobald confined his attention. He was fired with an
ambition for distinction in fields for any serious success
in which he was totally unfitted. He did not escape

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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the temptation which beset so many mediocre poets dur-
ing the hundred years following the Restoration, of re-
modelling and adapting a play of Shakespeare. The
one he selected was ' Richard II.' Unlike certain others,
this alteration failed to meet with the permanent success
which it did not deserve. Still, it had a run of seven
nights when it was first performed at the theater in
Lincoln's Inn Fields in December, 1719. 1 After that it
was never heard of again. About fourteen years later
he tried his fortune anew in an adaptation of Webster's
4 Duchess of Main.' This was brought out in April, 1733,
under the title of * The Fatal Secret.' It was acted but
four times.2 As Theobald tells us himself in the pref-
ace to the play, when published in 1735, it " was praised
and forsaken." There was another tragedy of which he
was the author that did not meet with even as good a fort-
une as this. It bore the title of ' The Death of Hanni-
bal.' Though written and prepared for the stage, as early
certainly as the beginning of the third decade of the
century, it was never either acted or printed.3 So far as
can be judged it was wholly his own composition. If so,
it and his earliest piece are the only plays of importance
in which he was concerned as sole author. His other
productions were built upon the foundations laid by some
one else. Two of them deserve attention, one for rea-
sons personal to himself, the other for its connection
with Shakespeare.

The first here referred to exposed him to the suspicion

1 Genest's ' English Stage/ vol. iii. p. 32.

2 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 392.

3 Giles Jacob's 'Poetical Register,' vol. i. p. 259.

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THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

and in fact to the direct charge of dishonesty. A trag-
edy, purporting to be his, was brought out at the theater
in Lincoln's Inn Fields in February, 1716. It bore the
title of 4 The Perfidious Brother.' On the stage it proved
then a failure ; it is just as much a failure now in the
closet. The story upon which it is based is a peculiarly
unwholesome one, and there is nothing in the treatment
to make amends for its disagreeableness. The plot bears
a somewhat close resemblance to that of ' The Unnatural
Brother ' of Filmer, which had met with deserved failure
in 1696.1 If modelled upon that, as seems likely, it was
no improvement upon it. But whoever wrote it, had
Othello in his eye. The perfidious brother, Roderick,
is a feeble copy of Iago, possessing his wickedness but
lacking his intellect. Indeed it is hard to consider the
villain a villain, his actions are so persistently those of a
fool. Nor does the corresponding Sebastian, the other
principal character, exhibit sufficient sense to make him
an object of interest. The failure of the tragedy in rep-
resentation gives the impression of the existence of a
good deal of discernment on the part of the audience.
It is assuredly the worst piece of dramatic work in which
Theobald was ever concerned, and this is saying a good
deal. In the preface to the printed edition he expressed
regret that it had not answered so well to Mr. Rich as
he had hoped, lie professed himself unable to account
for its being so generally approved in the town and so
little regarded on the stage. The modern reader finds
n<> difficulty whatever in understanding the latter state-
ment, but much difficulty in believing the former.

1 Geucst's 'English Ktiigo,' vol. ii. p. 114.

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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

In this same preface Theobald defended himself from
the charge contained in a story industriously spread in
one part of the town — chiefly, he said, among the me-
chanics — that the drama was not really his own ; that,
as a matter of fact, he had had no hand in it beyond
giving it a general supervision, and here and there the
correction of an odd word. This he denied. He ac-
knowledged that the story upon which the plot of the
play was founded had been brought to him by a watch-
maker, named Mestayer, and had been wrought up by
that person into something designed to be called tragedy.
He had agreed to make it fit for the stage. With that
object in view, he had toiled at it for almost four months
without interruption. As a result of his labors he had
so thoroughly recast the piece that he considered that
he had created it anew. Mestayer was far from holding
this opinion of the alteration. The following year he
carried out his threat of printing the piece, and if we
may trust his assertion, printed it exactly as it had come
from his hands in the first place. It was accompanied
with a far from flattering dedication to Theobald him-
self, and the comments contained in the preface upon
his proceedings were not calculated to give an exalted
conception of his character.

With our present knowledge of the circumstances it
cannot be established with certainty that Mestayer's
printed piece was the actual original, though the proba-
bilities favor this view. If so, there is no question that
it furnished most of the material upon which Theobald's
version was built, and that the names of creator and
reviser should have appeared in connection with it both

144

THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

when performed and when published. At the same time
the original, if the original, was an impossible play for
either acting or reading. Theobald's version, however
poor as poetry, was at least verse, and not prose. No
one would fancy that Mestayer's version was anything
but prose, — and the wretchedest of prose at that, —
were it not that capital letters appear at the beginning
of every line. The exact facts in the case are never
likely to be ascertained ; in truth, they are hardly worth
the trouble of ascertaining. It may be regarded, how-
ever, as a point in Theobald's favor that contemporary
hostility seems very rarely, if ever, to have fastened
any reproach upon him for his conduct in this matter.
Pope, his most inveterate enemy, never brought against
him — at least in direct terms — the charge of appropri-
ating another man's work ; and any possible accusation
or plausible insinuation to his critic's discredit was not
likely to escape the poet's active malevolence. The
only reference to this transaction which is found in his
acknowledged writings is contained in a note to a line of
the first book of * The Dunciad ' in its original form,
which reads as follows:

" Now flames old Memnon, now Rodrigo burns."

Rodrigo is here the Roderick of 'The Perfidious Brother,'
" a play written," remarked Pope, " between T. and a
watchmaker." *

The other piece with which Theobald's name is con-
nected occupies a more important place in the history of

1 Dunciad, Hook 1, 1. 198, ed. of 1728; 1. 208, quarto of 1729. In
modern editions The Cid and Perolla, Hook 1, 1. 250, take the place of
Memnon and Rodrigo. The note has accordingly disappeared.
19 145

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Shakespearean controversy. In 1727 he announced that
he had come into the possession of a play of the great
dramatist which had never been printed. It was entitled
'Double Falsehood, or the Distressed Lovers.' This, he
revised and adapted for the stage. At this time there
seems to have existed an estrangement between Theo-
bald and Rich. The piece, in consequence, was not
brought out at the theater in Lincoln's Inn Fields, but
at Drury Lane. It was first acted on the 13th of De-
cember of the year just named. The curiosity of the
town had been excited and stimulated by methods
which, however common now, were then unusual. No-
tices of the coming production appeared in newspapers
some days before its actual performance. Attention
was directed to the question of its alleged authorship,
and the public was called upon to give its decision.
The matter naturally aroused interest. The play met
with what was deemed at the time a distinct success.
It had a run of ten nights 1 and before the season closed
it was performed at least twice more. For benefits it
was selected not un frequently during the eighteenth cen-
tury, down even to near its close. As a reading play,
it also met with a good deal of favor. A royal license
dated December 5, 1727, was issued giving to Theobald
the sole right of printing and publishing the piece for

1 " By the unanimous applause with which this play was received hy
considerable audiences for ten nights, the true friends of the drama had
the satisfaction of seeing that author (i. e., Shakespeare) restored to his
rightf ul possession of the stage," etc., etc. — From a letter signed Dramat-
icus to the * Weekly Journal or British Gazetteer,' No. 142, Feb. 10, 1728.
According to Genest, the play ran from Dec. 13 to Dec. 22, aud Dec. 26
was the tenth night.

146

THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

the term of fourteen years. These are the simple facts
connected with the production of the play. The copy-
right Theobald sold in July, 1728, for one hundred
guineas.1

As regards its authenticity, public opinion was divided
from the outset. Surprising as it may seem to most
men now, Theobald's reputation as a Shakespearean
scholar and critic, at the time of the production of the
play, stood higher than that of any one. Naturally his
opinion as to its genuineness carried great weight. Still,
on the part of many, and probably of the large majority,
there was little belief that this particular drama was
written by Shakespeare. On the part of some, there was
a strong suspicion and indeed a not uncommon assertion
that it was the actual production of the pretended re-
viser. So wide-spread became this view, so frequent
was the insinuation to this effect that, in the preface to
the play, when printed, Theobald felt himself under the
necessity of repelling the charge. In the dedication of
it to Bubb Dodington, he referred to the doubt ex-
pressed by many that a manuscript of one of Shake-
speare's works could have remained so long unknown
and unnoticed, and to the further intimation that he
himself had a much greater concern in it than that of
mere editor. Yet the play, he added, had been received
with universal applause. These unbelievers, therefore,
while admitting that they were pleased, and yet imply-
ing that they were imposed upon, were paying him a
greater compliment than they designed or he deserved.

1 See E. Hood in ' Gentleman's Magazine/ March, 1824, vol. xciv.
p. 223.

147

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Notwithstanding his denial, the belief that the work
was a forgery of his own continued to prevail. Both at
the time itself and later, not merely insinuations but
direct charges were made to that effect. This was true,
especially on the part of the adherents of Pope ; and the
less they knew, the more positive they were on the
point. Take as a specimen of the assaults not unfre-
quently made the following lines from a poem written
" by a young gentleman of Cambridge " :

" See Theobald leaves the lawyer's gainful train,
To wrack with poetry his tortured brain ;
Fired or not fired, to write resolves with rage,
And constant pores o'er Shakespeare's sacred page ;
— Then starting cries, I something will be thought,
I '11 write — then — boldly swear 't was Shakespeare wrote.
Strange ! he in poetry no forgery fears,
That knows so well in law he'd lose his ears." 1

The desire of saying something novel about Shake-
speare — the prolific source of the extravagant, the ab-
surd, and even the idiotic — has at times taken the shape
of forgery. Experience has shown us that this is a
temptation which only the stoutest virtue can resist.
The antecedent and apparently inherent unreasonable-
ness of any one ascribing a play of his own composition
to the dramatist accordingly assumes, in the light of
what has happened, almost the nature of probability.

At the same time, there is no real reason for attribut-
ing the authorship of the piece to Theobald, though as

1 From * The Modern Poets,' by a Young Gentleman of Cambridge,
in 'Grub-Street Journal/ No. 98, November 18, 1731. Reprinted in
'Gentleman's Magazine' for November, 1731.

148

THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

the manuscript has never been either produced or repro-
duced, we are unable to tell how much belongs to the
original text and how much was added or altered in the
revision. There are in the play palpable imitations of
passages in Shakespeare's conceded works. Still, just
as clear imitations of the dramatist can be found in his
immediate successors, notably, for instance, in Mass-
inger. At the outset it can be said of ' Double False-
hood ' that it has many of the marks of an Elizabethan
play, though it may perhaps be further admitted that
there is nothing so distinctive, so characteristic of the
period assigned to it that it could not have been produced
by a clever copyist, familiar with its literature. Nor is
there the slightest improbability in the play having been
ascribed in the manuscript to Shakespeare. In that pecu-
liarity it unquestionably had many companions. Three
so designated, we have seen were included in the list of
plays which met their fate at the hands of that great
destroyer of our early drama, Mr. Warburton's cook.
Nor is it in the least likely, if the assertion were untrue,
that Theobald would have ventured to say, as he did
in his preface, that one of the three manuscripts of
the play in his possession was in the handwriting of
Downes, the prompter. Downes was still living in the
early part of the eighteenth century. His handwriting
must have been well-known to some of the actors be-
longing to the Drury Lane Theater, to whom the work
was submitted ; and they above all others would be
specially interested in the detection of a forgery.

All these assertions could have been disposed of easily
at the time, if they were untrue. In that case, they

149

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

pretty certainly would have been. We can, conse-
quently, feel safe in dismissing the supposition that the
piece was the composition of Theobald himself. But,
while it is reasonable to maintain that he was not its
author, it is quite another thing to maintain that its
author was Shakespeare. The internal evidence is am-
ply sufficient of itself to dispose of an unsupported
statement of this sort. There is scarcely a trace of the
great dramatist in it, even of his best or worst manner.
4 Double Falsehood ' is a respectable production, neither
better nor worse than scores of pieces of the period to
which it is ascribed, though by a concurrence of circum-
stances one modified line of it, as we shall see later,
has been raised to the rank of a stock quotation. Nor
to counterbalance the internal evidence that it is not
Shakespeare's, has there ever been furnished any ex-
ternal evidence that it is his. In truth, what facts exist
for the determination of its possible date are against any
such assumption. The play is founded upon a tale con-
tained in Don Quixote. Shelton's translation of that
work — the first translation of it ever made in English
— was not published until after the time Shakespeare
is generally conceded to have left London and taken up
his residence in Stratford. To offset this, Theobald in-
forms us of a tradition, which he had received from a
nobleman who had supplied him with one of his copies,
that it was given by the poet "to a natural daughter
of his, for whose sake he wrote it in the time of his re-
tirement from the stage." The tradition about the gift
is as worthy of credence as the tradition about the nat-
ural daughter ; though were the story true, we could be

150

THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

somewhat consoled by the character of the piece for
what has seemed Shakespeare's too early abandonment
of theatrical production.

Men have now forgotten all about the play ; but dur-
ing the eighteenth century the question of its authorship
was a subject of more or less discussion. Farmer reached
very positive conclusions in regard to the matter. It
could not be Shakespeare's, he said, " because in it
aspect was accented on the first syllable and not on
the final one." According to him that method of pro-
nouncing the word did not exist till the middle of
the seventeenth century. The observation was true of
Shakespeare so far as Shakespeare's practice has been
preserved ; it was not true of that of all his contempora-
ries. Farmer had no hesitation in ascribing the piece to
Shirley. It bore, according to him, every mark of that
dramatist's style and manner. On the other hand, this
same sort of internal evidence convinced Malone that it
was the work of Massinger. No one thought of ascrib-
ing it to Theobald, it being the proper view to hold him
utterly incapable of the poetic ability displayed in its
creation. Gifford, who had an exceedingly favorable
opinion of the play, would have denied his authorship of
it on that ground alone. " Pope and his little knot of
critics," he wrote, " affected to believe " that it was a
production of Theobald's, not seeming to see the honor
they thereby did him. In a comment on a line in
Massinger's ' Picture,'

" Rich suits, the gay comparisons of pride,"
he pointed out that the use, common in our old drama-
tists, of comparison for caparison had been one of the

151

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEAliE

words in ' Double Falsehood • with which the writer of
4 The Dunciad ' and his partisans affected to make merry.1
The employment of it in this signification, he implied,
was evidence of the genuineness of the play, just as
the censure of it was proof of the ignorance of the
critic.

One further incident in Theobald's life is to be re-
corded. In September, 1730, Eusden, the poet laureate,
died. The post at this time had lost all its dignit}^
The filling of it had come to be and to be considered
nothing but a job. The last thing thought of either by
recipient or bestower, in connection with it, was the
possession of poetical genius. Theobald sought it, evi-
dently unawed by the attack which had already been
made upon him in 4 The Dunciad,' or by the perception
he must have had of the fact that if he secured the post
he would be made not merely the further object of Pope's
venomous satire, but would become the common butt of
every poetaster in the land. His pursuit of the place,
however, was not due in the least, as he said himself,
to any vanity, but to a desire to assist his fortunes.2 He
had now become profoundly interested in Shakespearean
investigations. He was engaged in bringing out a com-
mentary upon the poet. The one thing for which he
longed was a competency sufficient to enable him to de-
vote himself uninterruptedly to studies which had begun
to absorb all his thoughts and demanded for their
successful prosecution all his time.

There is no question that his name was seriously con-

1 Gifford's Massinger, vol. ill. p. 154.

2 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 617, December, 1730.

152

THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES

sidered for the appointment. A poem of one of Pope's
partisans, which, though published the following year,
was written before the matter was decided, specifically
mentioned Blackmore, Philips, Theobald, and Duck as
candidates for the laureateship, and as possessed of
merits so similar that it was impossible to tell which of
them was likely to secure the coveted position from the
Lord Chamberlain. Everything would be uncertain

"Till deep discerning Grafton should declare." *

Theobald had the support of many persons of influence,
including the prime-minister, Sir Robert Walpole. For
a time he apparently cherished high hopes of success.
But after some weeks of fruitless attendance he had the
mortification to find himself supplanted by Colley Cibber.
The choice was an excellent one. If the best poet could
not be had, the next best for such a post was the worst
poet ; and poor a versifier as Theobald was, Cibber was
probably the wretchedest that could be found among the
men of the time possessing any sort of ability whatever.

It was in one way undoubtedly fortunate for Theo-
bald's fame that he failed. If the hostility of Pope could
and did succeed in fastening upon him the reputation of
dulness in a pursuit in which he exhibited conspicuous
keenness and ability, it is no difficult matter to imagine
what further associations would have come to be con-
nected with his name, where the best he could have ac-
complished would have been worthless. Not but he was
fully the equal of two or three who had already worn the
laurel, and of others who were yet to wear it before the

1 Harlequin Horace, by J. Miller (1731), p. 14.
153

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

eighteenth century expired. But none of them would
ever have been lifted into the unpleasant prominence he
would have attained from the unrelenting enmity of the
most influential author of the time. Nor would anything
he could have produced in the capacity of laureate have
brought him credit with the unprejudiced. That could
only be secured by what he had accomplished or was
to accomplish in other fields. The future efforts of his
life had already been determined by the publication of a
work of a character entirely different from anything
which he himself or any one else had yet produced.
Beside it everything to which he had previously directed
his attention was of subsidiary importance. With the
appearance of this work begins the first and on the whole
the fiercest of the controversies which have sprung up in
regard to the text of Shakespeare.

154

CHAPTER IX

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

On the last day of March, 1726, appeared Theobald's
first attempt at textual criticism. It came out, as appar-
ently did everything he wrote, under his own name. The
full title of the work was i Shakespeare Restored : or, a
Specimen of the many Errors, as well committed, as un-
amended, by Mr. Pope in his late Edition of this Poet.
Designed not only to correct the said Edition, but to
restore the True Reading of Shakespeare in all the
Editions ever yet publish'd.' This is the earliest of a
long line of similar treatises which have had the same
end in view. It was the pioneer work in a path which
lias since been trodden by thousands of feet. Yet of the
honor, which in the case of other subjects has been will-
ingly accorded to the pioneer, its author has been studi-
ously defrauded. To the men of his own age the course
lie took seemed an innovation and came as a surprise.
At the immediate moment it conferred upon him a wide-
spread and well-deserved reputation. The desert still
exists, but no longer the repute. It is well within
bounds to say that his treatise surpasses in interest
and importance any single one of its numerous suc-
cessors. Yet it has been systematically decried, even
by the men who have been under most obligation to

155

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

it, and upon its author has fallen an obloquy which time
is never likely to clear away.

The volume entitled ' Shakespeare Restored ' is known,
even by sight, to so few save special students that a
detailed description of its contents becomes advisable.
It was a large, thin quarto, designedly made to corre-
spond in size with the six quarto volumes of Pope's
edition. It consisted of one hundred and ninety-four
pages, of which the first one hundred and thirty-two
were devoted almost exclusively to the consideration of
the text of Hamlet. But an appendix of over sixty
pages followed in finer type. In this, specimens were
given of corrections of passages taken from thirty-two
of the other plays. In fact the only ones in Pope's
edition which did not receive some sort of illustrative
comment were 4 The Two Gentlemen of Verona,' * As
You Like It,' and ' Twelfth Night.' The emendations
were of all sorts. They touched the pettiest as well as
the most important matters. Naturally they were of
varying merit. Illustrations were given of false point-
ings which were subversive of the sense, of omission of
words, and even of lines necessary to it, of passages put
into the margin which were essential to the comprehen-
sion of what preceded or followed. The work in conse-
quence was mainly taken up with restoring the text
where both Pope's care or carelessness had perverted the
meaning. To Hamlet ninety-seven corrections pur-
ported to be given, though the number was really some-
what larger. The emendations to the other plays,
which were contained in the appendix, were naturally
more numerous. Of these there were one hundred and

156

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

seven nominally; actually there were one hundred and
seventeen.

As the work was mainly given up to pointing out the
errors in Pope's edition, and incidentally in Rowe's, few
of the corrections, taken as they were from the early
authorities, were Theobald's own contributions to the
establishment of the text. But though these were few,
they were important. The constructive criticism was
of even higher value than the destructive. In this
volume appeared some of those emendations so pecu-
liarly happy that they have been adopted almost univer-
sally in modern editions. Such instances are always
rare. Far from numerous have been proposed changes
in the text of Shakespeare which have commanded the
assent of every one. Besides the chosen few who on
principle will never agree with the majority, there is no
absurdity, however great, no interpretation involved by
a particular reading, however strained or unnatural,
which some men will not prefer to any alteration, how-
ever slight. Theobald has been more fortunate than
most. In regard to several of the emendations first put
forth in this volume there has been substantial, even if
not perfect unanimity. These alterations too are of
interest for the light they throw upon the abilities of the
man, in view of the way in which he has been com-
monly spoken of down even to this period. The emen-
dations here proposed were all his own ; and though
some of those produced later equalled them in impor-
tance, none surpassed them in felicity and ingenuity.
They may be said, in truth, to suffer to some extent from
their inevitablencss. They belong to that class of correc-

157

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tions in regard to which the wonder is, as soon as they
are made, how they could ever have missed being made.
Certain of these are worth noting. About the change
in 'Hamlet' 1 of "pious and sanctified bonds" into "pious
and sanctified bawds," there has been difference of opin-
ion; but as a general rule later editors have admitted
this emendation into the text. But there has been sub-
stantial unanimity in the adoption of ' thirdborough '
for ' headborough ' in the Induction to the ' Taming
of the Shrew ' ; of the representation of Alcides being
beaten by his ' page ' instead of his ' rage ' in the ' Mer-
chant of Venice ' ; 2 of 'I prate ' in the speech of Cor-
iolanus 3 to his mother, instead of ' I pray ; ' of having
"scotched the snake" in 'Macbeth,'4 instead of having
" scorched it ; " of " the ne'er lust-wearied Antony " in
Pompey's speech in ' Antony and Cleopatra,' 5 in place
of " the near lust wearied Antony ; " and in the same
play the description of the flag or rush " lackeying " the
varying tide instead of ' lacking ' it.6 It requires in-
deed a good deal of dulness to believe that emenda-
tions such as these — and their number could easily
be increased — are the emendations of a dull man or
of one whose most distinguishing characteristic is mere
plodding industry. If they seem easy to us, now that
the way has been shown, they did not seem easy once.
They assuredly escaped the attention of the first two
editors, neither of whom has ever been charged with
slowness of perception. In fact, in the case of the
example last mentioned, 'lacking' had been changed

1 Act i., scene 3. 2 Act ii., scene I. 3 Act v., scene 3.

4 Act iii., scene 2. 5 Act ii., scene 1. 6 Act i., scene 4.

158

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

by Pope to 'lashing,' thus getting out of one diffi-
culty by plunging into another.

To none of the alterations just recited has modern
scholarship, as distinguished from personal preference,
taken any exception save in one instance. This is to
the substitution of 'scotch' for 'scorch' in 'Macbeth.'
But even here it contents itself with showing that in
the meaning there found ' scorch ' and ' scotch ' are
merely variant forms of the same word. Consequently
there was no need of making any emendation whatever.
So there was not from the point of view of present lin-
guistic investigation ; from the point of view of general
comprehension there was a good deal. The fact just
stated was something that no one of Theobald's gen-
eration could be expected to know. It is probably
not going too far to say that it was one which no one
did know then or could have known. Even now it
is known to but few. Under the circumstances, there-
fore, the slight change made may be deemed justifiable,
even from the standpoint of strictest adherence to the
text. Had it not been effected, had the original form
been retained, an erroneous interpretation would have
fastened itself upon the passage and would have be-
come embedded in the popular conception of it. As
a result, for more than a century and a half its mean-
ing would have been wholly misunderstood. Theobald
saved for the reader the genuine sense of the phrase
with the slightest possible disturbance of the form of
the word. He comprehended what his author wanted
to say, even if he did not comprehend liis way of say-
ing it, if it were certainly Ids way of saying it. Scorch

159

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

in this sense of c scotch ' has never been common in any-
period of English literature. Even here it is easier to
believe it a typographical error than the actual form
used by the author.

This work furthermore is of interest not merely in
the history of Shakespearean investigation but in the
history of modern scholarship. It has the distinction
of being, as Theobald justly claimed, "the first essay
of literal criticism upon any author in the English
tongue."1 It was the earliest attempt to apply to a
classic of our own language the methods which had
been employed in establishing the text of Greek and
Latin classics. It was at that time not only an un-
tried but even an unheard-of proceeding. The success
which Theobald met with was due to the thorough-
ness of his scholarship. With all the disadvantages
under which he labored — and as we shall see later,
these were incalculably great — he hit upon the right
road. He both pointed out and exemplified the proper
method of correcting the text. If he set out to make
an alteration, he supported the change, whenever pos-
sible, by citation of extracts in which the new word or
phrase introduced was shown to have been used else-
where in the same way. These extracts were taken
whenever possible, from Shakespeare, but sometimes
from other dramatists of his time. No unauthorized as-
sertions, no random conjectures took the place of inves-
tigation. In short, his method was the method of a
scholar, and wherever he erred, it was the error of a
scholar, and not of a hap-hazard guesser. His work

1 Shakespeare Restored, p. 193,

160

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

and his rival's represent indeed the two kinds of emen-
dations of Shakespeare's text which have been practised
since his day. Every commentator belongs to the school
of Theobald or of Pope. No one would entertain any
question now as to which was the correct method to follow.

Several examples have already been given of the acu-
men displayed by Theobald in hitting upon a desirable
alteration. They involve the least possible and yet
most probable change required to convert into good
sense what had seemed incapable of affording any satis-
factory meaning. As an illustration both of his sagacity
and his method, it is worth while to give here in full the
history of what is probably the most famous single
emendation to which the text of Shakespeare has ever
been subjected; for while the result is known to all,
only special students of the subject are acquainted with
the process by which it was readied. From such a par-
ticular recital too, one gains a conception, such as no
general statements can convey, of the condition of the
original and of the ingenuity which has been brought
to bear upon its restoration ; for it is concerned with a
passage which has the appearance of being corrupted out
of all comprehension by some blunder of the type- setters.
What to us is of further interest is the illustration it
furnishes of the difference in spirit and method with
which Theobald and Pope approached the rectification
of passages obviously erroneous.

In the historic drama of 'Henry V.,' the death-bed
scene of Sir John Falstaff is described by Mrs. Quickly.
Before quoting any of her words it is necessary to ob-
serve that this play was first printed in quarto during
11 161

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Shakespeare's lifetime and consequently before it came
out in the folio of 1623. Between the text of these two
editions there are great differences. The folio lias
double the number of lines which are found in the
quarto. About the latter indeed there is a very general
agreement among commentators that it is a pretty fla-
grant specimen of the stolen and surreptitious copies of
which Heming and Condell had complained. No one
has ever pretended that Shakespeare had anything what-
ever to do with its publication. The only way to explain
its existence has been to suppose that it was secured for
the pirates who printed it by a short-hand writer who
was possessed of phenomenal ignorance, or who in this
instance encountered unusual difficulties in the practice
of his profession. Such as it is, however, it can be
deemed one of the two original authorities for the text ;
but after what has just been said, it is manifest that the
folio of 1623 is the only one to be seriously regarded.
In this latter some of the circumstances attending the
death of Falstaff are recounted in the following words,
in which the original orthography and punctuation are
here preserved :

" A made a finer end, and went away and it had been
any Christome Child : a parted ev'n just between Twelve
and One, ev'n at the turning o' th' Tyde : for after I
saw him fumble with the Sheets, and play with Flowers,
and smile upon his fingers end, I knew there was but
one way ; for his Nose was as sharpe as a Pen, and a
Table of green fields."

It was the last words here cited which caused trouble
— " his nose was as sharp as a pen and a table of green

162

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

fields." What possible sense could be made out of them ?
What is a table of green fields ? What sort of a nose
is it that is like such a table ? Here, in the eyes of some,
the imperfect pirated quarto of 1600 came to the relief
of the despairing commentator. In that the sentence
ended with the words, "his nose was as sharp as a pen."
The "table of green fields" made no appearance at all.
But it was not an easy matter to find an excuse for drop-
ping the phrase. There was the apparently insuperable
difficulty that the folio in which it was contained fur-
nished a text incomparably superior to the quarto from
which it was absent. On the mere authority of the
latter, words could not well be thrown out which were
found in the former. It was Pope who set out to answer
any possible objection to the omission of the passage.
In the following way he explained how this incompre-
hensible clause happened to be introduced into Dame
Quickly's speech. " These words, 4and a table of green
fields,' " he wrote, " are not to be found in the old edi-
tions of 1600 and 1608. This nonsense got into all the
editions by a pleasant mistake of the stage editors, who
printed from the common piecemeal written parts in the
play-house. A table was here directed to be brought in
(it being a scene in a tavern where they drink at part-
ing), and this direction crept into the text from the
margin. Greenfield was the name of the property-man
in that time who furnished implements, etc., for the
actors." x In his preface also he indicated these final
words as having been inserted in the text through the
ignorance of the transcribers.2

1 Pope's Bbakespear, vol. iii. p. 422.

2 Ibid. vol. i., Preface, p. xviii.

163

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

This explanation had a very plausible sound. It is
indeed an excellent specimen of guess-work emendation
based purely upon assumption. To those who knew
nothing of the matter, it seemed convincing. There
were, however, difficulties connected with it, and the
more closely it was examined, the greater became the
difficulties. A quite obvious one was that if there had
been any furnisher of stage-properties of the name of
Greenfield, Pope was the only person to whom knowl-
edge of the fact had been vouchsafed. But there were
further difficulties in this explanation of the so-called
pleasant mistake of the actor-editors, which did not
escape the attention of Theobald. Here his practical
experience with the theater stood him in good stead.
He did not venture to deny absolutely the existence of
the mysterious Greenfield, though he hardly succeeded
in hiding the belief in his mythical character which he
entertained. But conceding the fact of there being
such a man, he pointed out that never in the prompter's
books, still less in the piecemeal parts where properties
or implements are indicated as wanted, is the name of
the one given whose business it is to provide them.
Nor again is the direction for furnishing these properties
ever marked in the middle of the scenes for which they
are needed. It is at their beginning or at some earlier
page before the actors enter, that it appears. The words
therefore could not have been taken from the margin
into the text.

But the original difficulty still confronted him. How
did the words get in if they did not belong there ? If
they belonged there, what did they mean? Theobald

164

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

gave one possible explanation of their introduction as
being a stage direction in reference to the subsequent
scene. But upon this he wisely laid no stress. He
had, however, he said, another interpretation, which, if
accepted, would permit the words to be regarded as part
of the text. In his possession was an edition of Shake-
speare containing some marginal conjectures of a gentle-
man who was then dead. By him the word ' table '
had been converted into * talked.' Upon this hint
Theobald improved. Instead of changing * table ' to
' talked ' he changed it to * babbled,' or, as it was then
often spelled, 4 babied.' This latter was still nearer the
form in the folio. The only alterations were the addi-
tion of a final d to the word and the more serious reduc-
tion to lower case of its initial letter. The passage was
consequently made to read : " His nose was as sharp as i
a pen, and a babied of green fields." ^.L

The happiness of this emendation struck every one at
once. Men who had suggested other alterations frankly
admitted the superiority of this.1 Pope himself was
impressed by it, though he affected to treat the correc-
tion slightly and as a guess hardly worth much atten-
tion. In his comment upon it in his second edition he
played upon the ignorance of the public as to the com-
parative value of the original authorities, though he was
careful to make no further reference to Greenfield, who
had filled so important a part in his original explana-
tion. " Mr. Pope omitted the latter part," he wrote,
" because no such words are to be found in any edition

1 See, for instance, the ' Answer to Pope's Preface to Shakespeare,' by
a Strolling Player (n. d. 1730, by John Roberto}.

165

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

till after the author's death. However, the Restorer has
a mind they should be genuine, and since he cannot
otherwise make sense of 'em, would have a mere conjec-
ture admitted." l It was in this characteristic way that
Pope aimed to give the impression that it was Shake-
speare who was responsible for his own reading, and to
the player-editors — as he called Heming and Condell
— was to be attributed the phrase which he had
rejected.

Not such, however, has been the general attitude of
the commentators who have followed. The dissenters
from Theobald's emendation have been but few, and the
reasons given for their dissent have been anything but
convincing. So far from being discredited, the reading
suggested has been recommended by the occasional
efforts which have been made to substitute something
else in its place. Warburton was the only one of the
eighteenth-century editors who concurred with Pope in
rejecting the phrase. All the rest adopted it, in some
cases grudgingly ; consoling themselves for the conces-
sion to Theobald's sagacity by printing Pope's ridicu-
lous reason for the omission, and Warburton's more
ridiculous attempt to justify it. Still, they adopted the
emendation, for they saw nothing better to propose.
The same statement is essentially true of the nineteenth-
century editors. Collier was the only English one who
introduced a different reading into the text. Instead of
u and a table of green fields," he substituted " on a
table of green frieze." Delius retained the original
phrase, and made a painful effort to explain it — painful

1 Pope's Shakespear, 2d ed., under ' Guesses, etc.' at end of vol. viii.

166

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

in both the earlier and later sense of the word. These
are the only exceptions to the general unanimity with
which Theobald's emendation has been received by later
editors, who indeed, unlike their predecessors, have been
cordial in their praise of it. Dyce, for instance, in his
first edition remarked that he adopted it as a matter of
course. Staunton, in his, spoke of the conjecture of Pope
and " the equally atrocious sophistication of Mr. Collier's
annotator " as needing only to be mentioned in order to
be laughed at. In a later edition he declared that the
emendation had now become so completely a part of the
text that no editor would ever have the temerity to dis-
place it. Such a prophecy, however, evinces a certain
lack of familiarity with the courage of commentators.
In this country White called it " the most felicitous
conjectural emendation ever made to Shakespeare's
text."

It is needless to multiply such expressions of opinion.
There is, in fact, a general feeling on the part of most
critics that if Shakespeare did not write the passage as
it has been amended, he ought so to have written it.
The fate of the commentator is usually to build a good
deal worse than he knew. This is an instance where he
builded a great deal better. For apparently Theobald
himself did not fully appreciate his own emendation. He
certainly neglected to say anything of the most natural
and effective point that belongs to it. One thing, he
tells us, that led him to make the change he did, was the
statement that in equatorial seas the minds of sailors,
wlio are attacked by the calenture, the fever of the
tropics, are apt to run upon green fields, which contrast

167

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

so sharply with the waste of waters about them. But
this could have only a slight connection with any
thoughts that could have passed through the mind of the
dying Falstaff or with the scenes which surrounded his
bedside. If the words are interpreted as they have been
amended, they are in full consonance with that human
experience, every aspect of which the mind of Shake-
speare seems to have comprehended in its all-embracing
grasp. In that parting hour the thoughts of the dying
man leap over the interval of manhood's years of riot
and revel, of wasted opportunities and perverted energies,
to go back to the scenes of childhood when, a careless
and innocent boy, he wandered in fields which under
summer skies were redolent with the freshness and fra-
grance of summer verdure. Such an interpretation is
alike true to poetry and true to nature. Still, while we
can hope and even believe that Shakespeare wrote the
passage as amended, we unfortunately cannot insist
upon it as an indisputable fact.

The emendations in this review of Pope's edition were,
as has been said, entirely Theobald's own. The merit of
them cannot therefore, by any ingenuity, be transferred to
any one else. Fortunately for his reputation, he had not
at this time become entangled with Warburton. Had he
been so then, that cool traducer of his former friend
would have contrived to give the impression, if not to make
the direct assertion, that anything of special value in this
treatise was the fruit of his own suggestion. It gives a
still higher opinion of Theobald's knowledge and sagacity
that besides the lack of those facilities under which at
that time the best equipped of men labored, he suffered

168

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

at first from the want of facilities which were possessed
by others, and in particular by the editor whom he criti-
cised. It is clear that at the outset he had but few of
the original authorities to consult. The only quarto of
' Hamlet ' to which from his references he appears to
have had access was that of 1637. Though he occasionally
spoke of all the editions of Shakespeare, he did not then
have in his hands the one most important, the folio of
1623. It is the second folio to which he refers and from
which he quotes.

Pope indeed asserted, or rather insinuated, that Theo-
bald had never seen the first edition. In so doing he
unwittingly paid the highest sort of a compliment to the
acumen of his critic. In ■ The Merry Wives of Windsor '
there is a blunder found in the text of the second folio
and all the subsequent editions which had appeared up
to this time. In every one of these Falstaff, in speaking
of Mrs. Page, is represented as saying that sometimes
" the beam of her view 'guided ' my foot." For this verb
Theobald substituted 'gilded,' which in the time of Shake-
speare was frequently spelled 'guilded.' He believed then
that the correction was his own.1 When Pope brought
out his second edition in 1728, he inserted this as the
proper reading, but denied Theobald's claim of being its
originator. "It is in the first folio edition," he said,
u which, it hereby appears, he had never seen." In these
words Pope is pretty certainly sincere and not in the
least ironical. Yet it is something hard to believe. If
liis comments were serious, he was unconsciously com-
mending Theobald's sagacity, besides furnishing the

1 See Theobald's letter in the ' Daily Journal/ Nov. 2G, 1728.
169

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

strongest sort of proof of having exhibited in his pre-
vious edition the carelessness with which he had been
charged.

No one pretends that Theobald was invariably right
in his emendations, or that he did not make alterations
which are now regarded as either unnecessary or unjus-
tifiable. He was little likely to claim infallibility for
himself. There were conjectures he put forth in this
treatise which he subsequently withdrew in his edition
of Shakespeare. A correction of Hamlet, indeed, which
I is found in the body of this very work he retracted in
1 the appendix.1 There is this, however, to be said of the
I changes which he proposed. They were never wanton.
They are always of the sort which are made by a man
who has studied his subject, who has honestly striven to
ascertain exactly what his author is aiming to express.
Hence they usually convey a clear meaning, though to
us it may not seem the best meaning. In the dearth of
linguistic knowledge then prevailing there were two
sorts of errors into which every one was specially liable
to fall. One arose from the ignorance of the form or
meaning of dialectic or obsolete words. The other and
much more dangerous error resulted from the ignorance
of the obsolete meanings of words still in common use.

From neither of these two classes of errors did Theo-
bald escape. Yet the mistakes he made were never due
to indifference or negligence ; they sprang from the lack
of knowledge which practically no one at that time pos-
sessed, and which under ordinary conditions no one
could then hope to gain. Still, he rarely, if ever, shirked

1 Shakespeare Restored, pages 119, 191.

170

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

any difficulties which he saw ; he did the best he could
to remove them with the means at his command. Let
us observe his methods in instances where he failed.
Take, in the first place, his treatment of an obsolete
word occurring in Hamlet's soliloquy about his father,

" So loving to my mother,
That lie might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly."

The difficulty is with the verb beteem. We give it
here, or rather impose upon it, the signification of * per-
mit ' ; and such a sense the context seems imperatively
to require. Yet there is nothing quite like this usage
of it to be found elsewhere in our literature. It has
almost invariably attached to it the meaning either of
* think fit' or of 'grant,' 'concede.' But the word itself
has never been common. To Theobald and his im-
mediate successors it was unknown. The situation was
further obscured by the fact that in the first three folios,
the form, disregarding slight orthographic variations,
was beteen ; in the fourth folio, this was further cor-
rupted into between.

At this period no one knew of the existence of such
a verb as beteen or beteem, the latter the form found
in the quartos. Naturally no one had any conception
of its meaning. One of the Restoration quartos met
the difficulty boldly. For 'might not beteem,' it substi-
tuted 'permitted not.' In this it was followed by
Rowe, and he by Pope, and he in turn by Warburton.
But Theobald's scholarly instincts were too strong to
accept and Introduce into the text a word which had no

171

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

authority in its favor, and no likeness to the one it dis-
placed. He, on his part, changed beteen into let een.
In this, he was followed by nearly all the eighteenth-
century editors until 1790, when Malone restored the
beteem of the quartos. But it cannot be considered sur-
prising that Theobald should have stumbled at a verb
not only obsolete then, but always rare and used here
too in a still rarer sense. With our present knowledge
we can, perhaps, safely hold that his emendation was
unnecessary. But, with the knowledge possessed by
the men of his time, the alteration was one which in-
volved the least possible violence to the text ; for it pre-
served the meaning, while making but a slight change in
the form. Had the word beteem not existed, we should
even now have been cherishing this amendment as a
happy solution of a perplexing difficulty.

The errors of the second class are necessarily more
dangerous. In giving to a word in common use its
present signification, instead of one it has discarded, we
are cheating ourselves with the show of knowledge
while losing its substance. No better illustration can
be furnished of the difficulties of this kind which then
beset an editor than what is afforded by a passage in
* Lear.' Gloucester has been plunged in a moment from
the height of prosperity into irremediable misery. The
loftiness of his position had given him a sense of secur-
ity, had filled him with that careless confidence in his
own future which becomes almost a second nature to
those whom high place and long-continued good fortune
have exempted, not merely from worldly reverses, but
from the contemplation of such reverses as a possibility.

172

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

The calamity which has suddenly overtaken him leads
him to reflect that this sense of security has been the
agency that had brought about his fall. lie sees that
the possession of apparently boundless resources renders
a man unobservant of the perils which threaten his for-
tunes, while the very lack of these resources tends to the
advantage of him who has them not, by causing him to
conduct himself providently and cautiously. "Too oft,"
he says, —

" Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities." 1

The adjective secure had originally the sense of ' free
from apprehension,' in accordance with the meaning of
its Latin primitive. This it still retains. The significa-
tion naturally passed over to the verb derived from it,
as is here exemplified. Theobald, like his contempo-
raries, was not, however, aware of the fact. He is cer-
tainly not particularly to blame for not knowing it,
when for more than a century afterward editors suc-
ceeded in missing the meaning with infinitely greater
facilities than he for acquiring it. Malone believed that
means meant the same as mean. He therefore retained
the form without understanding it. Steevens insisted
that it was a mere typographical error. This valiant
ignorance of what Gloucester was trying to say lasted
indeed to a much later period. Theobald was at first
disposed to accept Pope's emendation of secure into
secures and of means into mean. According to this
reading, the latter word would have the sense of 'low
fortune,' 'flic middle state.' But his natural acuteness
1 Act iv., scene i.
17::

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

made him hesitate. He suspected the altered text not
to be genuine. It made a fair sense, but it did not seem
to him the best sense under the circumstances. There-
fore he proposed to read i ensnare ' for 4 secure.' But,
by the time he came to bring out his own edition, this
alteration had clearly struck him as too violent. In
consequence he returned to Pope's unsatisfactory emen-
dation, with the result of keeping nearer to the words
but of getting farther away from the sense than if he
had adopted the unauthorized ensnare.

Tli ere are occasionally faults far more objectionable
than these. In some instances, the criticisms were of
the very pettiest nature. There were a few that fully
deserved the name of " piddling," which his great antag-
onist contrived to fasten upon them all in the minds of
many. These were to be found most frequently in the
observations upon Hamlet. But the remarks upon that
play constituted apparently the principal portion of his
review, and for that reason any criticism there occurring
would be sure to attract attention. Theobald took
Pope seriously to task for using devise, so spelled, as a
noun. He informed him magisterially that it must be
restored to device. It is, perhaps, not advisable for us
to assume too much virtue over this particular exhibi-
tion of inanity. The lawless orthography of the English
tongue often begets something of the same doting affec-
tion for it which mothers occasionally manifest towards
ill-favored children. Ample opportunity has been fur-
nished to men much greater than this restorer of Shake-
speare's text, and fully improved by them, to exhibit a
similar state of mind.

174

SHAKESPEARE RESTORED

Worse even than this, some of Theobald's emenda-
tions were corrections of the pointing where the sense
was not affected in the slightest by the change. He
seems to have shared in the belief which takes posses-
sion of so many, that the particular punctuation which
he had chosen to adopt was correct in its very essence
and was not a matter of convention. His remarks, ac-
cordingly, were more worthy of an opinionated proof-
reader than of the editor of a classic. These were not
very many, it is true, nor did he give them much space ;
but few as they were, there were too many, and the
space given them was too much. They furnished a kind
of plausible justification for the contempt with which
Pope and his adherents spoke of the whole process of
making changes in the punctuation, as if it were some-
thing which did not concern the meaning of the sen-
tence, and as if indifference to it were merely a disregard
of an unimportant prescription of the printers. It gave
them a handle for misrepresentation of which they were
not slow to avail themselves, and which they assuredly
improved to the uttermost. A man's ability is measured
not by his poorest work but by his best. Even as a
commentator, it has been at times the peculiar fortune
of Theobald to be judged by his worst.

Mr,

v+*y*

CHAPTER X

Theobald's attitude towards pope

It is not too much to say that the publication of
' Shakespeare Restored ' created in the limited literary
circle to which it appealed what would now be called a
sensation. Textual criticism will never constitute an
attractive subject for those who read merely or mainly
for amusement. Nor can he who devotes himself to it
expect, however successful he be, to gain much popular
ity with the mass of even highly educated men.^uBut
by the genuine students of Shakespeare, who were now
beginning to form a recognizable body, the work was
welcomed with enthusiasm. To them it was a revela-
tion of the difficulties with which the plays were beset,
of the need of an intelligent and thorough-going revi-
sion of the text, and of the means that must be em-
ployed to carry it into effect. The process was at once
recognized as simple. But, simple as it was, it had
never before occurred to any one to practise it. For the
first time men saw pointed out, and to no small extent
adequately illustrated, the proper method of attacking
the corruptions in the text of an English classic and of
restoring it to its pristine integrity.

The impression produced by the treatise cannot be
gainsaid. Contemporary critical estimates found then

176

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

indeed but little public expression. Those were not the
days in which authors and what they wrote were cele-
brated in the columns of every newspaper. Volumes
were very rarely devoted to them or their works. Ref-
erences to the greatest of them were very infrequent
in number and were scanty in length. It was usually in
short items in newspapers, or in brief essays mainly in
the form of letters that attention was called to anything
they had done. But he who goes through the drudgery
of familiarizing himself with these obscure sources of
information speedily becomes aware that with his pub-
lication of ' Shakespeare Restored ' Theobald came at
once into prominence. During the years immediately
following the appearance of this treatise, his reputation
was in certain particulars very high. Deference was
paid to him as the greatest Shakespearean scholar of the
time. The estimate, too, arising from this work, was
steadily raised by the few further emendations which he
from time to time put forth.

A few months after his review of Pope's edition was
published another correction by him of the text of Shake-
speare came out in the 4 London Journal.' It was con-
tained in a private letter to a friend, who communicated
it to the newspaper. The emendation was of the follow-
ing passage in ' Coriolanus ' as it appeared in Pope's
edition :

" I think he '11 bo to Rome
As is the Asprey to the fish ; he '11 take it
By sovereignty of Nature."

Theobald was fully justified in observing, in his com-
ment upon these lines, that Pope followed implicitly
12 177

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

preceding editions without guessing at what his author
meant. Plain as it appears now, it was not so obvious
then. All the authorities up to this time had had the
form asprey or aspray. What did it mean ? The mul-
tiplication of voluminous dictionaries has made us all
aware that there is not and never has been any such
word as asprey. But this was not and indeed could not
be known then. Accordingly the correction of it into
osprey was not so certain. Furthermore, the reference
to the sovereignty of nature possessed by it, whatever
was meant by the phrase, made any change doubtful.
The passage was difficult of explanation, and neither
Itowe nor Pope had thought of explaining it. Theobald
was the first not only to point out the proper reading,
but to establish it beyond question. He called attention
to a popular belief, which though forgotten had once been
prevalent, that the bird called the osprey captured fish
by the fascination with which nature had endowed it.
In justification of the change of spelling and in explana-
tion of the meaning, he cited extracts from the English
naturalist, William Turner, and the Swiss Gesner. This
settled definitely for all time the justice of the correction
as well as the meaning of the passage. Pope adopted it
in his second edition, and Warburton followed with the
sneering comment " spelt right by Mr. Theobald." Yet
rarely has even so much credit as this been accorded him
by succeeding editors.1

1 This emendation was published in the ' London Journal ' of Saturday,
Sept. 3, 1726. Theobald's letter is dated August 23. The friend to whom
it was addressed was Concanen ; at least some of the comments introducing
it appeared later in his ' Speculatist.' It was reprinted from the original
manuscript in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 189.

178

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

But whatever the attitude of later times or of a later
period in his own time, no injustice was done him at the
outset. So great was the repute of his work that for the
three or four years following its publication he was al-
most invariably referred to, when mentioned, as the
"Author of ' Shakespeare Restored.' ': He was so styled
in the benefit which was given him at Covent Garden in
May, 1727, l as a tribute to the knowledge and sagacity
he had displayed in determining the true text of the
great dramatist. Pope indeed, with real or affected con-
tempt, made it a point to term him the Restorer ; but if
he was satirical in so designating him, others were sin-
cere. There was ample reason for their entertaining the
feelings they did. The correctness of the methods he
had employed, the invariable plausibility and the frequent
happiness of the emendations proposed commended them
at once to all interested in the study of Shakespeare.
Nor were his failures seen to be failures in the little
knowledge of the subject which then existed.

It was therefore not unnatural that regret should be
expressed that to him had not been committed the task
of editing the plays. Very probably many of these
utterances came from personal friends ; but in some
instances certainly their utterers had become his friends
because they appreciated the work he had accomplished.
One of these men was Concanen. Not many weeks
after the appearance of ' Shakespeare Restored ' he sent to
4 Mist's Journal,' though not under his own name, a
communication which contained a warm eulogy of that
treatise. He spoke of Theobald as one Avhom lie did not

1 May 5, 1727, Genest'.s ' English Stage/ vol. iii. p. 188.
17!)

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

have the good fortune to know ; but his emendations had
revealed critical knowledge of the dramatist and mastery
of the learning essential to his right comprehension —
so much so that it was a matter of keen regret that it
had not fallen to his lot to revise the text.1 In thus
speaking he gave voice to what came to be more and
more the general opinion.

Mention has already been made of * Mist's Journal ; '
and as further references to it will appear, it is advisable
to give at this point some definite information about it
and the part it played in the political and literary life of
the times. It was established in December, 1716, by a
printer named Nathaniel Mist. A Tory organ of the
extremist type, with sympathies obviously Jacobite, it
led for about a dozen years a checkered existence. It
was constantly going to the danger line in attacking the
government, and was itself in constant danger of being
suppressed by the government. Its founder underwent
to the full the trials which in those days were liable to
befall newspaper men who were in opposition to the
administration. He was frequently arrested, was fined,
was committed to prison. He experienced the not un-
common fortune of the journalist of that period of stand-
ing in the pillory. The periodical itself had various
vicissitudes. Whole numbers of it were occasionally
seized. Grand juries presented it, expressed abhorrence

1 ' Mist's Journal/ No. 54, May 7, 1726. The signature to this letter is
Philo-Shakespear, but Coucanen's authorship is proved by the fact that it
contains a number of sentences which are found in an essay of his con-
tained in the volume entitled 'The Speculatist/ published in 1730 (page
185). For a further expression of a similar feeling see the communication
of A. B. in the 'London Journal' of May 28, 1726.

180

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

for it, and applied to it numerous uncomplimentary ad-
jectives. It at times strove to act with moderation.
But its zeal against the government was never long
abated, nor the expression of it long tempered with
caution.

The end came at last. An article in the number for
August 24, 1728, signed Amos Dudge, and attributed to
the Duke of Wharton,1 purported to give an account of
matters in Persia, which country, according to it, was
said to be ruled by an usurper. It was of too pronounced
a Jacobite flavor for Hanoverian palates to tolerate. The
whole machinery of government was set in motion against
the paper and every one connected with it. In the
following month it gave up the ghost. From its ashes,
however, sprang up at once 'Fog's Weekly Journal.'
This opened with a letter from Mist himself, who some
time before had fled to France, acquainting the readers
of the new paper with the fact that lie had lately been
seized with an apoplectic fit, of which he had instantly
died. This of course was not true, either actually or
symbolically, of the man ; but in certain ways it was
true of the journal to which he had given his name.
That had been for a long while a chosen medium, if not
the chosen medium, through which writers, without re-
gard to their political opinions, expressed their views on
matters connected with literature. During the year
1728, in particular, it contained, as long as it lasted,
no small number of communications emanating from
the friends or enemies of Pope. But with its sup-
pression this distinctive peculiarity disappeared. It was

l The Bee, vol. i. p. 9, Feb. 10, 1733.

181

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

not a characteristic which particularly marked its
successor.

Were it not that Pope labored to produce an impres-
sion to the contrary, it would be entirely needless to say
that Theobald's connection with 4 Mist's Journal,' so far as
lie had any connection with it at all, was purely literary.
With politics he never meddled, though his sympathies,
unlike the poet's, were with the government. From the
very beginning his interest had been mainly in scholas-
tic pursuits. His emendations of Shakespeare were as
little the result of chance guess or hap-hazard conjecture
as they were the offspring of dulness. On the contrary,
they were the ripened fruit of years of patient investiga-
tion and close reflection. The knowledge which Theo-
bald had already displayed in his review of Pope's edition
had not been got up for the occasion. He had been a
diligent student of Elizabethan literature long before
he could have anticipated appearing as a commentator
on the works of its greatest representative, or as a critic
of their editor. As a student of the period Shakespeare
had naturally received his chief attention. It will not
be surprising that the familiarity he acquired with his
diction should be especially noticeable in his later writ-
ings, such for instance as the so-called dramatic opera of
1 Orestes.' In this throughout there is an imitation of
the manner of the dramatist so far as that manner can be
imitated. In reading it we are reminded almost too fre-
quently of passages in his plays, especially ' Lear,' l Mac-
beth ' and ' The Tempest.' It is, to be sure, a dreadfully
long road from Shakespeare to Theobald. Still it is
plain that the inspiration received from the former gave

182

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

occasionally to the lines of tlie latter a poetic dignity not
elsewhere observable in his dramatic production.

But ' Orestes ' was brought out in 1731. At that time
Theobald had been long occupied in the preparation of
his edition of Shakespeare. We should therefore expect
to find him then so thoroughly familiar with the writings
of his author as to be affected consciously or uncon-
sciously by their influence. But this same intimate
acquaintance with the dramatist's method of expression
was manifested in a poem which was published while he
was still under thirty years of age. This piece was en-
titled * The Cave of Poverty ' and came out in the first
half of 1715. It is perhaps not straining the evidence
too far to suspect that the dedication of it to Lord Hali-
fax may have been one of the petty additional causes
that led Pope to assail that nobleman, twenty years after
his death, in his ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot,' when he re-
ferred to him as "full-blown Bufo puffed by every
quill ; " for the poet's wide-embracing dislike extended
not only to those lie deemed his enemies, but to the
friends and patrons of his enemies.

After the appearance of ' The Dunciad ' it became the
fashion to sneer at all of Theobald's poetry. It lias re-
mained the fashion ever since. Even those who have
recognized his superiority as an editor have joined in
this chorus of depreciation. No one need feel himself
called upon to stand up for the merit of the work just
mentioned, though it was one of which the author him-
self thought a good deal. He declared that he had
written it with a particular pleasure, and that he looked
at it with the affection of a fond parent. Nor was his

183

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

partiality unjustifiable from his point of view. It is1
much the best thing of the kind he ever wrote, It is of
course not worth reading now save by the student of
literary history. At the same time there is no reason
why it should be made the subject of special disparage-
ment. Plenty of poetry of that period, no better in
quality, and some much worse, met then with no small
share of praise, and even at this late day is occasionally
mentioned with respect.

To us, however, whatever interest and importance the
piece possesses is closely connected with the name of
the greatest of England's men of genius. The title-
page professed that the poem was written in imitation of
Shakespeare. The dedication to the Earl of Halifax de-
clared the imitation to be very superficial. This is some-
thing that might have been expected to be the case, had
Theobald been possessed of far greater powers than he
actually had ; but his further assertion that it extended
only to the borrowing of some of his words is very much
of an under-statement. The truth is that the produc-
tion throughout adopts and reflects Shakespeare's phrase-
ology. There is frequently in it a faint echo of his style,
and of the peculiar melody of his versification. Such
characteristics could have been manifested only by one
who had become thoroughly steeped in his diction, and
especially in that of his two principal poems. These
were so far from being well known at that time that
they were hardly known at all.

When it came to form and vocabulary the imitation
is much more plainly discernible. 'The Cave of Pov-
erty' is written in the six-line stanza of the 'Venus

184

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

and Adonis,' a measure then hardly ever used and none
too familiar since. In the phraseology the influence of
Shakespeare is particularly apparent. The plays of the
dramatist abound in compound adjectives. They are even
more numerous in his two principal poems. Theobald
imitated him in this practice. He not only coined on his
own account a pretty large number of these compounds,
but he adopted a large number which lie found in the
writings of his great predecessor. From ' The Rape of
Lucreee' he borrowed full fifteen, sometimes coupling
them with the same substantives, as * fiery-pointed sun,'
* tear-di stained eye ' and ' blue-veined violets.' The
adaptations from the plays were on a smaller scale,
though among them occur some of the most noteworthy
employed by the dramatist. There are, for instance, the
4 tender-lie f ted ' of ' Lear ' and the ' wonder- wounded ' of
4 Hamlet.' Furthermore there were to be found in this
piece of Theobald's a large number of Shakespearean
words and phrases with which few were familiar then,
and not too many now. Such, for illustration, are
4 copesmate,' 4 bateless ' and 4 askaunce their eyes,' all
three taken from ' The Rape of Lucrece.' But there
further appear in it the 'gallow' of ' Lear,' the 'agnize'
of ' Othello,' the < tristful ' of ' Hamlet,' the 4 callet ' of
several plays, the ' rebate the edge ' of 4 Measure for
Measure.' The way he used these words and phrases
and others that could be mentioned, derived from Shake-
speare, showed that he knew what they meant — a knowl-
edge to which several of his detractors never attained*

4 The Cave of Poverty' never met, it is likely, with
any remarkable success. Had it been indeed a far better

185

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

work than it was, the measure would have doomed it
to comparative failure in an age which tolerated certain
other forms of verse, but cared mainly for the heroic
couplet. Yet until Pope fell foul of its author it
wTas usually spoken of with a good deal of respect.
Then the attitude of men was all changed, and it
has continued changed to this day. Nowhere is there
ever much of independent judgment; but in literary
criticism there is less than anywhere else. Once let
a damaging view be taken of a work or of a writer
by a person in a position to make his opinions known
and respected, it will be adopted and re-echoed by
multitudes, even if they are perfectly well aware that
the depreciatory estimate is due to prejudice or per-
sonal dislike. Ignorance continues what malice origi-
nated. The hostile view taken is at last embalmed
for all time in books of reference. From generation
to generation the same remarks, the same misstatements,
and frequently the same inanities continue to be re-
peated by the whole herd of critics, without examina-
tion and without reflection. Never has any author
furnished in so many ways more signal proofs of the
truth of this observation than has Theobald.

Not alone in this poem had been indicated Theobald's
capacity for engaging in the work which at that time
he had not even contemplated. His periodical publica-
tion, « The Censor,' gave abundant manifestation of his
interest in the literature of the Elizabethan age. It pur-
ported to be written by a descendant of Ben Jonson of
surly memory; but the references to Shakespeare and
the quotations from him occur much more numerously

186

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

than in the case of any other author mentioned; and
the tribute of praise is also much more unequivocal.1
Such things show unmistakably who it was that then
occupied his thoughts. Theobald suffered, it is true,
like the rest of his contemporaries, from the deep-seated
sorrow of the age that the greatest of poets lacked
knowledge of the poetic art ; but he mercifully refrained
from making his affliction conspicuous. In fact, more
than once a suspicion was faintly expressed that the
very ignorance of the dramatist might have been on
the whole a benefit to his work.

Yet with all his admiration for the author and famil-
iarity with his writings, there is no reason to believe that
Theobald then purposed to turn the knowledge of him
he possessed to the use he later did. It is of course pos-
sible, it is perhaps probable, that he may have dreamed
of bringing out an edition of Shakespeare ; but if so, it
could have been only a dream. No one would have then
recognized or conceded his qualifications for the task.
For him, unknown, and unfriended, subscribers could not
have been secured. No publisher would have felt justi-
fied in running the risk of engaging in such an under-
taking. Still, as Theobald was profoundly interested in
the author himself, as he constantly made his works the
subject of special study, the condition of his text would
necessarily force itself upon his attention. But it was
the accident of the publication of Pope's long-heralded and
pompously proclaimed edition which brought him into
tlio field as a, commentator*

1 Tlioro are references to Shakeipeare and qaotationa from or discus-
sions of his writings in ' The Censor,' in nmnhcrs 7, 10, 1G, 17, 18, 26, 36,
ii, 48, W, 60, 63, 70, 7:5, 75, 84, 87, and 95.

1ST

THE TEXT OF SIIAKESPEAUE

It would be a gross error, however, to assume that in
doing as he did he was actuated by the slightest personal
hostility to the man whose work he criticised. Indeed at
the outset of his career Theobald was so far from expect-
ing ever to become an opponent of Pope that he can be
reckoned among his warmest admirers. A poem of his on
the death of Queen Anne, written in the heroic measure,
and entitled * The Mausoleum,' came out in 1714. Like
nearly all of such occasional pieces it was both preten-
tious and wretched. It contained, however, lines clearly
suggested by those of his great contemporary. Further-
more in the course of it he paid him a personal compli-
ment. He spoke of the art of one

" who by the god inspired,
Could make Lodona flow and be admired."

To leave no doubt in the mind of any reader as to the
person meant, he appended the following note : u Mr.
Pope and his 4 Windsor Forest.' " A few years later he
expressed himself even more fervently in one of the es-
says of 4 The Censor.' In it he praised in most extrav-
agant terms the version of the eight books of the ' Iliad '
which had then appeared. " The spirit of Homer," he
said, " breathes all through this translation, and I am in
doubt whether I should most admire the justness of the
original, or the force and beauty of the language, or the
sounding variety of the numbers ; but when I find all
these meet, it puts me in mind of what the poet says of
one of his heroes, that he alone raised and flung with
ease a weighty stone that two common men could not
lift from the ground ; just so one single person has per-

188

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

formed in this translation what I once despaired to
have seen done by the force even of several masterly
hands."1

In truth Theobald's admiration for his great contem-
porary may be said to have passed over into unjustifiable
partisanship. He took frequent occasion in the periodi-
cal just mentioned to signalize his devotion to Pope by
making what seem unprovoked assaults upon Pope's
stoutest antagonist, Dennis. Him he designated by the
title of Furius. He spoke of him as an object of pity,
rather than of the laughter and contempt which were his
daily portion.2 In one instance he went to the unwar-
rantable length of saying that Furius ought to be under
obligation to him for his attack, for it would give him the
opportunity of contributing to his own support by writ-
ing twelve-penny worth of criticism in reply.8 In fine, he
affected to treat Dennis with the same air of superiority
which Pope was subsequently to manifest towards him-
self. The veteran critic, as we have seen, had not been
slow to retort in his usual slang- whanging style. But
by the time Theobald's review of the edition of Shake-
speare had appeared, all these differences must have been
made up. In that work lie paid Dennis a direct and
probably well-deserved compliment for his intimate ac-
quaintance with the works of the dramatist.4 It was not
an observation calculated to add to his great contempo-
rary's equanimity, or to increase his regard for its
author.

1 The Tensor, No. .1.1, January 5, 1717.

2 Ibid.

:: Ibid. NO. 70, April 2, 1717.
4 Shakespeare Restored, p. 181.

IS! »

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

This change of front accordingly led Pope to revive, in
the notes to 4 The Dunciad,' the memory of these early
quarrels, which had been largely due to the partiality
exhibited in his own behalf by the man he was now seek-
ing to disparage. He quoted the abusive terms which
Theobald and Dennis had applied to each other. It is
one of the singular results which followed the publica-
tion of this satire that the writer of it was not only
assailed for his version of the * Iliad,' but the hero of it
was likewise taken to task for having praised this version
in his periodical essays. The former, it was said, with a
comical and unparalleled assurance had undertaken to
translate Homer from Greek, of which he did not know
one word, into English of which he understood almost as
little. Along with this the latter was vituperated for
his u idiot zeal " in behalf of the translation.1 Theobald
must have felt at the appearance of this attack that he
was exposed to a double lire. It was certainly hard to
be at one and the same time an object of Pope's satire
for having exposed his blunders as a commentator and
to be railed at by the assailants of Pope for having
exalted him as a poet.

It is possible that Theobald's efforts to ingratiate him-
self with the most prominent man of letters of his time
had not met with much success. He certainly failed to
secure his name as a subscriber to his proposed edition
of iEschylus. This may have abated the warmth of the
feeling with which the inferior writer had been disposed
to regard the superior one. Still, it is manifest that it
was from no sentiment of hostility that he put forth his

1 The Popiad, 1728, pp. 1, 5.

190

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

review of Pope's edition of Shakespeare. lie not only
refrained from exhibiting the feeling, he disclaimed it.
Throughout his treatise, he was personally respectful to
the man he criticised. In fact, he professed admiration
for him, though it is clear that it was admiration for him
as a poet, and not as a commentator. " I have so great
an esteem for Mr. Pope," he wrote in one place, " and
so high an opinion of his genius and excellencies, that I
beg to be excused from the least intention of derogating
from his merits in this attempt to restore the true read-
ing of Shakespeare." l In another place, he enrolled
himself specifically in the list of the poet's admirers.2

But no one could criticise Pope and expose his real or
fancied shortcomings without subjecting himself to his
resentment. Knowing, as we do now his character and
methods, there is something almost guileless in Theo-
bald's remark at the close of his treatise, that while he
expected to undergo attacks of wit for what he had done,
he should have no great concern about those which
might proceed from a generous antagonist. Where
he was mistaken, it would gratify him to be corrected,
for the public would be sure to reap the advantage.
" Wherever I have the luck," he added, " to be right in
any observation, I natter myself Mr. Pope himself will
be pleased that Shakespeare receives some benefit." 3
There may be room for difference of opinion as to how
Theobald would have felt at having any blunders of his
own pointed out; there can be none as to how such a
proceeding would affect the mind of the man whom in

1 Shakespeare Restored, Introduction, p. iii.

2 Ibid. p. ii. » Ibid. p. 194.

191

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

his innocence he characterized as a generous antagonist.
It would be difficult to impart joy to the heart of any
author by showing up his errors; in the case of Pope, it
would have been absolutely impossible. Theobald was
speedily to learn that lesson to his heart's content.

Dr. Johnson tells us, in his life of Pope, that Spence's
review of the translation of the ' Odyssey ' was the poet's
first experience of a critic without malevolence. Un-
true as this statement was in general, in regard to the
particular work he had in mind, it was absurdly untrue.
Johnson was referring to the 4 Essay on the Translation
of the Odyssey,' the first part of which Spence brought
out in June, 1726, and the second part in August, 1727.
In it the writer professed to take into dispassionate con-
sideration the beauties and the blemishes of that version.
This work was highly thought of in the eighteenth cen-
tury. Few pieces of criticism have ever, at any time,
attained so much repute with so little justification for it.
The enthusiastic praise it evoked seems now almost in-
comprehensible. Joseph Warton, for illustration, went
into raptures over it. With a delightful unconscious-
ness of what his words necessarily implied as to his own
estimate of himself, he paid the following glowing trib-
ute to its excellence. " I speak from experience," he
remarked, " when I say I know no critical treatise
better calculated to form the taste of a young man of
genius than this ' Essay on the Odyssey.' " To show that
his opinion was not due to the partiality of intimate per-
sonal friendship which he enjoyed with the author, he
added that it was concurred in by three persons from
whom there could be no appeal. The three men whose

192

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

judgment, as reported by him, was to bind that of all
ci tilling times, were Akenside, Bishop Lowth,.and James
Harris.1

Posterity, however, lias failed to be awed by this for-
midable array of names. It lias been much more dis-
posed to accept Johnson's dictum that Spence was a
weak and conceited man. Still, it is delightful to have
lack of malevolence declared by the same authority to
be a distinguishing characteristic of this Essay. John-
son's farther remark that the poet was little offended by
it has been improved upon by later writers, who tell us
that Pope exhibited the loftiness of his character by not
taking the criticism amiss, and becoming instead the
close personal friend of the author. It would have re-
quired a peculiar temperament to feel annoyance or
irritation at the view of the version of the epic which
was taken by Spence. The most sensitive of souls
might be expected to bear with equanimity the charge
that his translation of the ' Odyssey ' was faulty because
it was superior to the original. As a matter of fact, we
know that Pope was delighted with it, as he had good
reason to be. His coadjutor, Fenton, declared that if
what appeared in this 4 Essay ' was the worst that could
be said of the version, he would be criticised into a much
better opinion of it than he had previously entertained.
He was inclined to believe, he wrote to Broome, that
the world would fancy they had employed a friend pre-
tendedly to attack them, or perhaps that they had written
it themselves.2

1 Warton's Pope, vol. i. in ' Life of Pope,' p. xxxvi, 1797.

2 Letter of .lime 10, 1720, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 720.

13 193

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Never, indeed, was more abject deference paid to a
great writer under the pretence of correcting his errors.
The direct censure was conveyed in such a way as to
involve the highest indirect praise. The passages with
which fault was found were, it was implied, not really
bad in themselves ; they were bad because they were so
good. They were unfaithful to the original. Where
that was simple, the translator had ornamented it, had
elevated it, had given it majesty. Even for venturing
to take mild exceptions of this complimentary character,
Spence was profuse in his apologies. He further made
up for the censure, if by any stretch of language it can
be called censure, by bespattering the man he was theo-
retically criticising with the grossest adulation. He was
not content with pointing out place after place in the
translation where Pope had improved upon Homer. In
general terms, he celebrated him as the one who had
shown the noblest genius for poetry in the world. He
paid the highest tribute to the generosity of his nature
and the virtue of his soul. He characterized those who
had presumed to find fault with his writings and char-
acter as Zoiluses and animals. The only redeeming
feature in all the fulsome flattery of this treatise is that
Spence said nothing more than he honestly believed.
His sincerity cannot be questioned, whatever we may
think of his sense.

This feeble essay, masquerading under the guise of a
critical examination, was designated during the eigh-
teenth century as useful and pleasing and just. To the
men who so regarded it, Theobald's review of the edition
of Shakespeare might seem malevolent. That certainly

194

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

is the inference to be drawn from Dr. Johnson's remark.
Yet, such a view of it would be about the farthest
possible remove from the truth. There was not the
slightest trace of malevolence in 4 Shakespeare Restored.'
There was nothing in the volume which passed the
bounds of legitimate criticism. Yet, while this can be
said with perfect justice, while indeed it is the precise
truth, it is not the whole truth. We all act from mixed
motives, and it would be idle to pretend that Theobald
in his review was animated by no other feeling than the
desire to rectify the text of his favorite author. It fur-
nished him an opportunity to distinguish himself in a
field where he could not fail to be aware of his own ex-
cellence. There was, undoubtedly, a spice of vanity in
his anxiety to show to the world that in one respect he
was far superior to the most eminent man of letters of
his time. Nor did he throughout his review maintain a
careful regard for the sensitive feelings of the writer he
was criticising. The subsidiary title of his treatise was
itself of a somewhat aggressive nature. That he should
term his work " a specimen of the many errors as well
committed as unamended by Mr. Pope" cannot be
deemed conciliatory. In three or four places he spoke
with a good deal of severity of the negligence and care-
lessness which had been exhibited in the revisal of the
text, lie called it inexcusable.

He did something worse. He showed that it was in-
excusable. Unpleasant inferences in this respect could
not fail to be drawn from some of his exposures. He
pointed out, for illustration, that in the second part of
I lonry VI., the " bastard hand " of Brutus is represented

195

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

in this much-vaunted edition, as having stabbed Pompey
the Great. The somewhat ridiculous blunder was due
to the disappearance of a line.1 This line, however, had
been found in all editions except the second one of
Rowe. Out of that it had been accidentally dropped,
it is clear, while the work was going through the press.
Its absence from the following edition, however, could
hardly be called the accident of an accident. There was
but one way of explaining the error. Pope's edition
had been printed from Rowe's second edition. This was
proper enough. What was censurable was that it was
so far from having being subjected to any thorough re-
vision that a gross blunder of this sort, unfaithful to the
truth of history as well as to the text of Shakespeare,
had passed unnoticed and unrecorded. This was far from
agreeing with the claim made for the work in the preface
that it was based throughout upon the original authorities.
The errors of this sort which were pointed out — and
the list has been by no means exhausted — were rarely
accompanied by any special censure. Theobald usually
set forth the exact facts, and left the reader to draw the
inference. But so long as the positive offence of detect-
ing the blunder was committed, the merely negative
merit of abstention from its denunciation was not calcu-
lated to allay the wrath of the man whose carelessness

1 The lines in ' Henry VI' (Act iv., scene 1) read as follows :

" A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murther'd sweet Tully ; Brutus' bastard hand
Stabb'd Julius Caesar ; savage islanders
Pompey the Great ; and Suffolk dies by pirates."
The third line was dropped out in Pope's first edition. It was
restored in the edition of 1728.

196

THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE

had been exposed. Undoubtedly, it would have been
just to give Pope credit for the work he actually accom-
plished, meager as it was when contrasted with what it
purported to be. But such action on Theobald's part
was desirable as a tribute to abstract justice, not to any
benefit he would have received for it at the hands of
the angry poet. From the experience he went through
in other cases, we may be sure that any admission of
the sort would have been wrested to his disadvantage.
While, therefore, it might have been better to treat
Pope's flagrant shortcomings with more deference ;
while it might have been courteous, in consideration of
his exalted position, to refrain from criticism of any sort,
it is perfectly correct to say that there was no malevo-
lence in it. Assuredly, if there was, all criticism which
aims to correct obvious error, is malevolent. Doubtless
it was impolitic to say the things he did. But the fact
remains that the things he said were true ; and Shake-
speare's text would have lost by their suppression the
benefit which Pope's feelings would have received. For
it must be kept in mind that it was the exposure itself
of his errors that roused the poet's resentment, and not
the spirit in which the exposure was made. To a slight
extent that, too, contributed to his irritation. There
was exhibited by Theobald a consciousness of superior-
ity which it would have been wisdom to dissemble,
though it was not malignity to manifest; for his crit-
icism throughout was that of a man who knew his
subject upon the work of one who showed on page
after page the results of half-knowledge and inadequate
investigation.

197

CHAPTER XI

The revelation which Theobald had made of the
inattention and incapacity displayed by Pope in his
edition of Shakespeare stirred the poet's nature to its
inmost depths. No one of the irritable race of authors
has ever been more sensitive than he to criticism of any
sort. The slightest censure galled him, the slightest
reflection upon his character or conduct irritated him
beyond measure. In this instance his natural sensitive-
ness was intensified by the consciousness, entertained
though unavowed, that the criticism was deserved. In
attacks to which his other works had been subjected,
he could not but be aware that even if faults in certain
particulars were pointed out, they were far more than
offset by merits which the most grudging envy was
compelled to acknowledge. No compensation of this
sort presented itself here. There was little to relieve
the wretchedness of failure. However much, therefore,
he might in public underrate and misrepresent the
criticism which had exposed his shortcomings, however
much he might affect to despise both it and its author,
in his secret heart he indulged in no illusions as to its
justice. It is very noticeable that much as he boasted
of many things, and at times with good reason, he never

198

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

boasted of his edition of Shakespeare. He rarely spoke
of it ; and when he did his attitude was distinctly
apologetic. It is expressed in the note found first in
4 The Dunciad ' of 1736, that he undertook the edition
of Shakespeare merely because no one else would.1

Theobald's criticism, moreover, had come out at an
unpropitious moment. Pope's friends and flatterers
were just on the point of celebrating his superiority as
an editor, as they had been wont to celebrate his supe-
riority as a translator. They stood ready and eager to
praise his work on Shakespeare, not because they had
the slightest knowledge of how it had been performed,
but because his name was associated with it ; and they
would have praised it just as ardently and unintelli-
gently had the execution of it been far poorer than it
actually was. In fact, one tribute of the kind had
already been paid when it was too late for the author to
recall it. In June, 1726, the final instalment of the
version of the ' Odyssey ' was delivered to subscribers.
At the conclusion of the notes lie had prepared, Broome,
not content with signing the false statement as to the
respective shares which Fenton and he had had in the
translation, burst forth into a glowing poetical panegyric
upon the man who had induced him to make the false
statement. In the course of it he celebrated in the
following words the ability displayed by Pope in editing
Shakespeare and the gratification which the ability
displayed would bring to the dead dramatist:

" If ought on earth, when once the breath is fled,
With human transport touch the mighty dead;

1 Dunciad, Book 3, line -v-vi.
L99

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Shakespear, rejoice ! his hand thy page refines:
And every scene with native brightness shines;
Just to thy fame, he gives thy genuine thought;
So Tully published what Lucretius wrote;
Pruned by his care, thy laurels loftier grow,
And bloom afresh on thy immortal brow."

Of Shakespeare, Broome presumably knew but little ;
of the proper manner of editing him he certainly knew
nothing at all. This view of Pope's achievement had
been prepared, though not published, before the appear-
ance of i Shakespeare Restored.' When that came out,
the criticism contained in it had a tendency to make all
such lines seem ridiculous. If Theobald's work accom-
plished nothing else, it put an end to all further enter-
prises in that particular field of eulogy.

Pope's sensitiveness was still further intensified by
the universal acclaim with which Theobald's treatise
had been received by every one interested in Shake-
speare. The author's friends, as was natural, were
never weary of celebrating its merits. Their utterances
had been reinforced by the voices of men who, having no
hostility to Pope, indeed being admirers of his writings,
had yet been led by this review of the subject to enter-
tain a poor opinion both of his critical skill and of his
industry as an editor. But to these two classes were
added those — and they were no small number — who
were envious of the poet and of the position he had
attained. Many of them cared little for Shakespeare,
still less for Theobald, but they hated Pope. The
unconcealed joy displayed by his enemies, and by those
whom he chose to regard as his enemies, gave increased

200

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

strength to the hostility which it was peculiarly char-
acteristic of his nature to feel toward the man who had
brought upon him this unexpected humiliation. No
depreciation which his writings had up to this time
received, no attacks made upon his conduct, no abuse
of his person inflicted upon him mortification so keen
as that which he underwent from a work which, how-
ever severe, was characterized by no malice and had not
in it one word of calumny.

It was its justice which made it intolerable. There
was no escape from its quiet but relentless exposure of
the carelessness he had displayed and of the blunders he
had committed. In the numerous quarrels with which
Pope's life was diversified, nothing — with perhaps the
single exception of Cibber's Letter of 1742 — so irritated
and incensed him as the publication of ' Shakespeare Re-
stored.' He took the course which those familiar with
his character and career would naturally expect. The man
who had been the instrument of making him feel his in-
feriority was followed by him for years with an activity
that never slept and a malignity that never tired. So
thoroughly did he acquit himself of the task he set out
to perform, so carefully did he cover his steps, that up
to the present day nearly all his perversions of fact and
of statement have been accepted with not even so much
as a suggestion as to their possible untrustworthiness.
Even those persons who have been unwearied in ferreting
out the truth in regard to Iiis tortuous course in the case of
other men, have been content to receive without ques-
tion and repeal, without examination the numerous false
charges he brought against Theobald.

201

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

At the time, however, he made no undue haste to
begin hostilities. In truth it was two years after the
publication of ' Shakespeare Restored ' before he took
any public notice of the criticism which his edition
of the dramatist had received. None the less did he
brood over it constantly, none the less was he pre-
paring to exact ample vengeance for the censure his
work had undergone. In June, 1727, more than a
year after the appearance of Theobald's treatise, came
out two volumes of ' Miscellanies ' under the avowed
editorship of Pope and Swift. They contained, fur-
thermore, pieces by Arbuthnot and Gay. To the first
volume was prefixed an apologetic preface, signed by
the two editors, but bearing the unmistakable ear-mark
of Pope. To begin with, there was the affected depre-
ciation of the work as a whole. The pieces contained
in it, the stricter judgment of the authors would have
suppressed had it been in their power. But by the in-
discretion of friends copies had got abroad, sometimes
mangled, sometimes with spurious additions, and ren-
dered in other ways intolerably imperfect. Hence they
were under the painful necessity of printing the things
which had appeared, not as they had appeared, but ex-
actly as they had been written. Contemporary comment
at once declared that their contents as now printed did
not vary at all from the way they read when originally
published. No change in them worth mentioning could
be discovered. Hence the assumed necessity of repairing
the indiscretion of friends did not exist. If this be true,
it may be the reason why the work did not at the time
excite any special interest or attention.

202

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

All this was changed, however, when in March, 1728,
came out another volume of ' Miscellanies,' having on
its title-page " the last volume." * This contained mat-
ter which had previously been printed ; but there were
in it some things both in prose and verse which were
new and which were designed to create the uproar, such
as it was, which followed. One piece of poetry entitled
* Fragment of a Satire ' was the celebrated attack upon
Addison which had first appeared in print five years
before. To it a number of additions concerning other
writers were now made. Among these was an attack
upon Theobald who was designated as " a word-catcher
who lives on syllables." To him was also applied here
the adjective " piddling " ; and by the keenness and bril-
liancy of the lines reflecting upon him Pope fixed per-
manently this epithet upon his critic. This so-called
4 Fragment ' was afterward embodied with some mod-
ifications in the * Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot.' But the real
firebrand thrown into the literary powder-magazine
was the prose piece with which this third volume
opened. No one doubts now that it was prepared with
the intent of creating the explosion which followed. It
was entitled ' Martinus Scriblerus on the Bathos, or the
Art of Sinking in Poetry.' Bathos, in the sense here
indicated, had apparently never hitherto been employed
in English. It consequently appeared in Greek charac-
ters, but was regularly rendered by " the profund," a

1 "This day is published 'Miscellanies,' The Last Volume. By the
Rev. Dr. Swift, Alexander Pope, Ksq. ; etc., consisting of several copies of
verses, most of them never before printed. To which is prefixed 'A Dis-
course on the Profund, or the Art of Sinking in Poetry." ('The Crafts-
111:111.' March 9, 1728.)

203

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

spelling designedly adopted to distinguish it from " the
profound."

The two men against whom the attack in this treatise
was mainly directed, were Sir Richard Blackmore and
Ambrose Philips. The former, now nearing his grave,
had incurred the bitter enmity of both Swift and Pope.
Swift had been denounced by him for his ' Tale of a
Tub.' For writing it, Blackmore had termed him an
impious buffoon, " who in any Pagan or Popish nation
would have received the punishment he deserved for
offering indignity to the established religion of his
country, instead of being rewarded, as had been his
lot, with preferment." Upon Swift's fellow-editor the
moralist had been, if anything, more severe. He at-
tacked him as the author of an indecent travesty of
the first Psalm. This, after having been handed about
in manuscript, had got into print and was widely dis-
persed. Blackmore had declared that the godless writer
had burlesqued the psalm in so obscene and profane a
manner that perhaps no age had seen so insolent an af-
front offered with impunity to a country's religion. The
authorship of the piece Pope frequently affected, but
never ventured really to deny.1 In a newspaper adver-
tisement he had offered three guineas' reward for the
discovery of the person who had sent it to the press.
But his threats were laughed to scorn ; for he was
careful to keep silence when met not only with de-
fiance, but with the assurance that whenever there

1 It is noticeable that in the note to 'The Dunciad' (4to of 1729, Book
2, 1. 256 ; modern editions, 1. 268) attacking Blackmore, Tope notices this
charge, but while trying to discredit it, does not deny it.

204

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

should be occasion for it, the production could and
would be shown in his own handwriting. This and
another poem, entitled ' The Worms,' cannot be found
in editions of Pope's works : but he was constantly
taunted during his life with their authorship, of which
indeed there is no doubt.

Blackmore's denunciation of both the editors had been
published about half a score of years previous to this
time. But Pope had never forgotten the provocation.
As a consequence, his assailant appeared in this treatise
as " the father of the Bathos and indeed the true Homer
of it." From his writings much the largest number of
examples were taken. Ambrose Philips was the one
who fell under the next heaviest censure. With him
Pope had been on ill terms since the publication of the
pastoral poems of each in 1709 in the same volume.
He had never been able to get over the injury wrought
to his feelings by the fact that men had been found to
exhibit the bad taste of preferring the artificial produc-
tions of this sort manufactured by his rival to the diverse
but equally artificial productions manufactured by him-
self. To all intents and purposes it was a quarrel about
the value of the yield of wool that could be secured from
the shearing of horned cattle. The bucolic emotions to
which each poet had given vent bore as close a resem-
blance to the bleating of sheep as they did to the speech
of shepherds. The admiration professed by many for
the pastorals of Philips, and the preference accorded
them over his own had furnished Pope previous occasion
for satire. A new opportunity was now offered. Hence
from these poems of his rival no small number of ex-

205

>•*«*

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tracts illustrative of the batlios were taken. But the
examples of it were by no means limited to these two
authors. They were collected from several other poets
of the time, and in some instances from men of eminence.
Addison's ' Campaign ' was largely drawn upon, and pas-
^ sages from anonymous pieces, some of them not impos-

^fa^^5 j^tDly written by Pope himself for the very purpose.
^JjL >\%fZ^0^ even vvas Shakespeare spared. These criticisms
fj> °* ^ might therefore have met with comparatively little re-

sentment, had not a distinct personal attack been levelled
in the sixth chapter against a large number of contem-
porary writers.

This sixth chapter was entitled " Of the several Kinds
of Geniuses in the Profund and the Marks and Charac-
ter of each." More than a score of authors, indicated
by their initials, were classified under the names of
various members of the animal creation. This Pope
desired and expected to be followed by an outcry that
would furnish in turn the needed pretext for the pub-
lication of the satire which, long contemplated, had now
been brought substantially to completion. In this list
Theobald appeared in two places as L. T. Once he was
represented as belonging to the swallows, who are de-
scribed as " authors that are eternally skimming and
fluttering up and down, but all their agility is employed
to catch flies. " He appeared again among the eels, who
are " obscure authors that wrap themselves up in their
own mud, but are mighty nimble and pert." But be-
sides the personal references in this chapter, certain
examples of the art of sinking in poetiy occurred else-
where in the essay, taken from the play of * Double

206

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

Falsehood,' which Pope ascribed to him, terming it in one
place * Double Distress.' *

The attack thus made upon the various authors was
intended to lead to recriminations and replies. To some
extent it did. When in the following May ' The Dun-
ciad ' made its appearance the author, under the guise of
its publisher, gave as a reason for its production that for
every week for the two preceding months the town had
been persecuted with pamphlets, advertisements, letters
and weekly essays, not only against the wit and writings,
but against the character and person of Mr. Pope. This
exaggerated statement has been accepted by all later
writers as a true account of the situation. As a matter
of fact the attacks upon the poet, compared with the
provocation given, Avere exceedingly few. Not a single
pamphlet was published. All the articles of any nature,
whether in prose or verse, whether the briefest of para-
graphs or the longest of letters, which appeared between
the dates of the 4 Essay on the Profundi ' and of ' The Dun-
ciad,' were collected soon after into a single volume.
They were just twenty in number. Of these it is per-
fectly clear that four either came directly from Pope him-
self or were instigated by him. He must have felt some
disappointment that more of the men who had been sat-
irized in his treatise on the bathos did not deem it worth
while to take any notice of the production. Among the
contemporary authors attacked were Blackmore, Defoe,
Ducket, Aaron Hill, Ambrose Philips, Ward, and Wel-
sted. From not one of these nor from several others not

1 This play, in truth, rarely receives even now its exact title. It is
almost invariably called 'The Double Falsehood.' Even in Lowndes it
appears with the definite article prefixed.

207

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

here recorded came a reply in any form. In the list which
Pope subsequently put forth of those who during the
two months before the publication of ' The Dunciad ' had
made him an object of invective, it is noticeable that five
only — Cooke, Dennis, Oldmixon, Theobald, and Moore-
S my the — had names answering to the initials which had
been given. The last-named had indeed attributed to
him a letter which was either written by Pope himself
or in his interest.

It is characteristic of Pope that one of the victims in
this treatise on the bathos was a man whom he called
his friend, and whom indeed at the time he was loading
with expressions of regard. This was his admirer and
imitator, Broome. He from the beginning had shown
himself willing to do almost anything and to say almost
anything to secure the poet's friendship and praise. He
had written the notes to the translation of the * Iliad,' and
for it had refused any compensation. He had further
written the notes to the ' Odyssey,' he had translated eight
of its books, and for both had received but little compen-
sation. Having used him as his drudge, Pope had pro-
ceeded to make him his tool. At the conclusion of the
notes he induced Broome to assign to him a large share
of his own work, and inferentially to include that of
Fenton. Instead of the twelve books of the ' Odyssey '
which they had rendered into English, they appeared as
having made a version of but five. The statement Pope
confirmed by calling it "punctually just." But the be-
trayal of the truth did not bring to Broome the praise
he craved and expected from the poet. He resented the
neglect, nor did he take pains to keep silent about the

208

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

real facts. For this insubordination Pope put the initials
of his name in the * Essay on the Prof und ' with those
of others. He furthermore gave from his poetry several
specimens illustrative of the bathos. Broome prepared a
private letter complaining of the ungenerous and un-
grateful treatment which he had met from the man for
whom he had done so much and from whom he had
received so little. Before sending it he forwarded it to
Fen ton, and by Fen ton was prevailed upon to preserve a
silence which he confessed he would not have been able
to keep himself. " He has challenged you to a public
defence," wrote his friend, " and if you do not think it
worth your while to take up the gauntlet, the sullen
silence of Ajax will be the most manly revenge. Far be
it from me to endeavor to spirit you up to the combat ;
but if it were my own case, I could not remain passive
under such a provocation." 1 But Broome was not an
Ajax, as Pope well knew, but only an amiable coward.
His sullen silence accordingly served only to procure
him later a place in 'The Dunciad.'

The treatment of Broome was typical of Pope's con-
duct when he felt that action of this sort could be taken
with impunity. If one to whom he was under obligation
could meet with such a return, what could he expect who
had inflicted upon the poet the keenest mortification?
Still, if Broome kept silent from fear, no motive of this
nature influenced Theobald. Yet from him came nothing
directly for the space of several weeks, and when it came
it was a perfectly legitimate defence, not of himself, but

1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 14G, letter of April 7, 1728, from Fentou
to Broome.

14 209

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of the language of the play he had edited. Indirectly he
may be said to have furnished at once a species of reply.
It was, however, coincident with the publication of the
last * Miscellany ' volume rather than a consequent of it.
That work had appeared in the hrst half of March.
About the middle of the same month ' Mist's Journal ' *
printed a communication which inclosed a private letter
of Theobald's to a friend. The letter was essentially a
continuation of the criticism which had already appeared
in * Shakespeare Restored.' This the correspondent who
sent it professed to have forwarded for publication with-
out leave obtained. The assertion was pretty certainly
one of those amiable fictions which have the semblance
of mendacity without its substance. False statements of
this sort partake rather of the nature of intellectual exer-
cises than of moral offences : for they never deceive nor
are they expected to deceive anybody.

This letter of Theobald's contained three emendations
of the text of Shakespeare and the clearing up of a
wrongly explained reference. All of these were of a
kind to arrest the attention of students of the dramatist.
One of them introduced a slight alteration in the speech
of Prospero to Ferdinand, when he bestows upon him
the hand of Miranda. In it he tells him, in the text up
to this time received, that he had given him " a third "
of his own life. Theobald changed 4 third ' to ' thread.'
About the advisability of this alteration, opinion has been
divided from the beginning. Some editors accept it,
others follow the original. But no such diversity of
opinion has befallen the next two. They have been sub-

l No. 152, March 16, 1728.

210

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

stantially adopted in all editions since the time of their
first appearance. One of these gives a further illustra-
tion of that conjectural sagacity which Theobald had
already exhibited and was later to exhibit still more
fully. It is concerned with the scene in which a senator
of Athens is represented as sending his servant to Timon
with a demand for the repayment of money borrowed.
He dismisses him with the following injunction, as the
passage appears in the original :

" Take the bonds along with you
And have the dates in. Come." 1

As dates are never a later insertion in bonds, Theobald
changed the last line so as to read

" And have the dates in compt. "

and this is the way the passage reads in modern editions.
The remaining correction as well as its explanation
was due rather to superior knowledge than to superior
acumen. In the play of * Coriolanus ' Lartius sums up
the hero's character by observing

" Thou wast a soldier,
Even to Calvus wish." 2

So read the editions of Rowe and Pope ; it was their
correction of the 'Calves' of the folios. But who was
Calvus? What was his idea of a soldier, and where was
it to be found? No one knew. Theobald really did
what Pope made a pretence to do, that is, he consulted
carefully Shakespeare's originals. In consequence he
pointed out that it must be Cato who was here meant, and
not any one by the name of Calvus. The former it was
1 Timon, act ii., scene 1. 2 Act i., scene 4.

211

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

who was described in Plutarch's life of Coriolanus as hav-
ing given utterance to the views of the soldier which were
here expressed. Of course this involved an anachro-
nism ; for the hero of the play lived two centuries and a
half before Cato, to whom the sentiments were attrib-
uted. But anachronism is a literary crime about which
few great poets trouble themselves much; and great
early poets not at all. Pope, while he was compelled to
admit the justice of the emendation, pretended to be
pained by the discovery. It cast a discredit upon Shake-
speare, which he seemed to think would never have
fallen upon him, had it not been for Theobald. " A ter-
rible anachronism," he wrote, " which might have lain
hid but for this Restorer."1 It was easy to retort —
Theobald did not fail to take advantage of it — that in
this same play occurred other anachronisms which had
not harrowed the feelings of the editor. Alexander the
Great and Galen had been mentioned. The one flourished
two centuries after Coriolanus, the other six.

The emendation just given is one which might have
occurred to any classical scholar of the time. Such,
however, is not the case with the following passage from
4 Troilus and Cressida.' In the course of the speech in
which Agamemnon recounts to Diomed the reverses of
the Greeks, he says among other things,

" The dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers."

Pope considered that the Trojan archer, Teucer, was
the person here meant. But Theobald knew, what few

1 Pope's Shakespeare, 2d ed., end of vol. viii., under * Various Head-
ings, Guesses, etc.'

212

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

men of his time did, that Shakespeare had founded his
play of • Troilus and Cressida' upon the mediaeval
version of the tale of Troy and not upon the Homeric.
He pointed out that the source of this speech was to be
found in an old chronicle originally printed by Caxton
and subsequently by Wynkin de Worde. It contained
an account of the three destructions of Troy. From it
he cited the passage describing the " mervayllouse beste
that was called Sagittarye, that behynde the myddes
was an horse, and to fore a man ; this beeste was heery
like an horse and had his eyen rede as a cole, and shotte
well with a bowe: this beste made the Grckes sore
afrede, and slew many of them with his bowe." No one
now questions the correctness of this explanation; few
indeed there were who did so then. But Pope con-
tinued to remain faithful to his Teucer. To original
lack of knowledge he added obstinate persistence in
error. The reference to the undoubted original was
the immediate cause of his speaking in 'The Dunciad' of
Theobald as stuffing his brain

*« With all such reading as was never read." 1

In the note to another line of this same work he spoke
contemptuously of the beast called Sagittary Avhich
Theobald " would have Shakespear to mean rather
than Teucer, the archer celebrated by Homer."2

These are specimens of emendations which in Pope's

i I)uuci:i(l, quarto of 1729, Book 1, 1. 166. In the recast of 1743 it
became line 250 of Book 4, as in modern editions, and was made to refer
to Beiitley. The original note upon it was necessarily dropped*

2 Quarto of 1729, Book 1,1. 129 ; in modern editions 1. 149. This note
also disappeared in the recast of 1743.

213

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

eyes were piddling, and of explanations which he pro-
fessed to deem unsatisfactory. Not so did they strike
Theobald's contemporaries. They did not impress the
men of that time as being of the nature of fly-catching
practised by swallows or as displaying the characteristics
of eels who wrap themselves in mud. Theobald was
not only encouraged but entreated to go on with the
work he had undertaken. Respect for his ability was
still further increased by the only article — at least the
only article under his own name — which took any
notice of the reflections cast by Pope upon himself in
his treatise of the Bathos. It was in the shape of a
communication to • Mist's Journal ' and appeared on
April 27. This letter, had his opponent been on the
same level of repute as himself, would never have met
with anything but unqualified commendation. It is
dignified in tone throughout. There is in it no abuse
of his assailant, nor any exhibition of undue sensitive-
ness to the attack which had been directed against him-
self personally. He said very justly that in exposing
the defects of Pope's edition he had endeavored to treat
its editor with all the deference that the circumstances
would permit. To deference indeed he added tender-
ness. This latter is not so apparent to the modern
reader. " But to set anything right," lie continued,
"after Mr. Pope had adjusted the whole, was a pre-
sumption not to be forgiven." For so doing he had
been subjected to personal attack. To this he intended
to make no reply ; and there is no evidence that he ever
did.

Theobald felt called upon, however, to defend the
214

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

three passages from the play of 'Double Falsehood*
which had been cited as specimens of bathos. He had
no difficulty in pointing out places in Shakespeare liable
to censure for precisely similar faults, if faults they
were. Only one of these three is of any interest now,
and that is due simply to the fact that it contains a line
which in consequence of Pope's ridicule became early
a stock quotation and has remained so to this day. It
is the last verse of the following passage:

" Is there a treachery like this in baseness
Recorded anywhere? It is the deepest :
None but itself can be its parallel."

This line Pope cited in the form in which it is now
generally known, —

" None but himself can be his parallel, — "

and declared that it was profundity itself, — " unless,"
he continued, " it may seem borrowed from the thought
of that master of a show in Smithfield who writ in large
letters over the picture of his elephant,

" 'This is the greatest elephant in the world, except himself.' " 1

Theobald's reply to this sally is a good illustration
both of the extent of his reading and of the acumen
which lie had brought and was still to bring to the
task of editing Shakespeare. " Literally speaking, in-
deed," he wrote, " I agree with Mr. Pope that nothing
can be parallel to itself; but allowing a little for the
liberty of expression, does it not plainly imply that it
is a treachery which stands single for the nature of its

1 Treatise on the Bathos, ch. vii.

2J5

THE TEXT OP SHAKESPEARE

baseness, and has not its parallel on record, and that
nothing but treachery equal to this in baseness can equal
it ? " He did not content, himself, however, with argu-
ment. He proceeded to point out in Plautus a piece
of nonsense, if it were nonsense, of precisely the same
stamp. It may be added that later in his edition of
Shakespeare he cited further examples from the classic
authors to keep the phrase in countenance. They
were taken from Ovid, Terence, and Seneca.1

It is worth while to remark that one of the examples he
gave — that from the Hercules Furens of Seneca — was
subsequently rediscovered several times by later writers
and announced with exceeding flourish of trumpets. In
1780 a correspondent of the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' who
wrote under the signature of iEneanasensis, informed
the world that this celebrated line with its palpable ab-
surdity had after all only the secondary merit of being
a literal translation.2 Nearly a score of years later
Joseph Warton made the same notable discovery. He
duly recorded it with the usual remarks and the usual
self-glorification. " It is a little remarkable," he wrote,
" that this line of Theobald, which is thought to be a
masterpiece of absurdity, is evidently copied from a line
of Seneca in the Hercules Furens." 3 A controversy
arose at once as to the priority in pointing out the orig-
inal of this verse. The claims of iEneanasensis — who

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 187. The passage from Seneca
reads as follows :

" Quneris Alcidae parem?
Nemo est, nisi ipse."

2 Gentleman's Magazine, November, 1 780, vol. 1. p. 507.

3 War ton's Pope, vol. vi. p. 220.

216

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

turned out to be the Reverend Mr. Kynaston 1 — were
vigorously set forth. It was a characteristic of the ill
fortune which waited upon Theobald's later reputation
that men continued to quarrel over the question as to
who was the first to discover something which he had
discovered and publicly announced more than half a
century before.

But Theobald in the defence of the passage did not
confine himself to the ancients. As in the case of the
other passages attacked, he resorted to modern writers
also and in particular to Shakespeare. Tie showed con-
clusively that this particular line selected for animad-
version was not different in character from several
others to be found in the greatest of English drama-
tists. These he quoted. The citations drove Pope
into a corner out of which he was not able to get. He
was so staggered by the examples given — one of which
he did not discover till later was a mistaken one — that
he was forced to take the ground that Shakespeare
was as bad as Theobald himself. In the third book
of 'The Dunciad' we find the line quoted again by
him, though with a slight variation, in the form,

" None but thyself can be thy parallel."

" A marvellous line of Theobald," ran the note upon
it, " unless the play called the • Double Falsehood '
be (as he would have it believed) Shakespear's. But
whether the line be his or not, he proves Shakespear
to have written as bad."2

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 729.

- Book 3, 1. 272, quarto of 1729. Neither line nor note is in editions
of 'The I tanciad,' from 1743 on.

217

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

The controversial discussion which went on about
this point furnishes a choice number of examples of
that common critical imbecility which contents itself
with adopting without reflection the likes and dislikes
of a great author. For writing this unlucky line, as
it was termed — his authorship of it was invariably
assumed — Theobald was subjected to constant attack
during the whole of the eighteenth century. As Eng-
lishmen, however, began to study with more care their
own literature, to say nothing of the literature of other
lands, they found precisely similar expressions in well-
known authors of every age and class. In truth this
particular comparison was so frequent with the Eliza-
bethan dramatists that its appearance in ' Double False-
hood ' is evidence, so far as it goes, that the play
belongs to the period to which it had been assigned.
Gilford had a note implying this view, upon the fol-
lowing passage in Massinger's * Duke of Milan ' :

" Her goodness does disdain comparison,
And, but herself, admits no parallel." '

To attack the phrase upon the score of impropriety
struck him as a lack of sense, and on the score of un-
usualness as a lack of knowledge. It was so common,
he declared, that were it necessary, he could pro-
duce twenty instances from Massinger's contemporaries
alone. Further, it was not peculiar to English litera-
ture. It could be found in every language with
which he was acquainted. Yet, he added, Theobald,
"who had everything but wit on his side, is at this

1 Act iv., scene 3.

218

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

moment laboring under the consequences of his imagined
defeat." »

But in his letter Theobald did not limit himself to
the defensive. He incidentally brought in an emenda-
tion of Shakespeare which is adopted in most modern
editions. It is worth recording here as an illustration
of how in many instances the sense of a passage can be
completely changed by a slight change in the punctua-
tion. To set right commas and points, it was the
fashion with Pope and his friends to sneer at and de-
preciate as something altogether trivial. Plow trivial it
is, the example itself shows, whether we accept it or
reject it. In 4 The Merchant of Venice,' a part of Gra-
tiano's speech to Bassanio, after the choice of the cas-
kets has been made, ran as follows in Pope's edition :

" My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:
You saw the mistress, J beheld the maid :
You lov'd : I lov'd for intermission.
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you."2

Pope had substantially followed the reading found in
the fourth folio and adopted from it b}^ Rowe. Theo-
bald declared that he could not understand the text so
printed ; and while certain modern editors have suc-
ceeded in explaining it to their own satisfaction they
have rarely done so to the satisfaction of anybody else.
The one they give he, however, explicitly rejected.
" Surely," he wrote, " he " (that is, Pope) " will hardly
persuade us that intermission here means ' for want of
something else to do, because lie would not stand idle/"

1 Gifford'i ftfaminger, \<>1. i. p. 312.

2 Act iii., scene 2.

219

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Theobald set out to make the passage clear, as he under-
stood it, by pointing the last two lines in the following
manner :

" You lov'd ; I lov'd : (for intermission
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you)."

Later in his edition he justified the employment of in-
termission in the sense of " a pause or discontinuance of
action " by other examples from Shakespeare.

The concluding paragraph of this letter contained the
promise of a second criticism of the second edition of
Pope's Shakespeare which was expected to be brought
out in the course of the year. The consideration of
what was said in it will come up later. There will then
be occasion to observe how well the poet remembered
and resented it, and how heedful he was to misrepresent
and garble and manipulate it so as to hold its author
responsible for words he never wrote and opinions he
never expressed. This communication to l Mist's Jour-
nal ' is Theobald's only reply, so far as we know, to the
attack made upon him in the ' Miscellanies ' before the
publication of 4 The Dunciad.' But shortly after this
third volume of the former work had come out, there
had appeared in this same paper an anonymous article
on its opening treatise. It was entitled ' An Essay on
the Arts of a Poet's Sinking in Reputation,' being a
Supplement to the 'Art of Sinking in Poetry.'1 It
wounded Pope deeply. There were things said in it

1 Mist's Journal, March 30, 1728. This article must not be con-
founded with the pamphlet which came out later, — in August, 1728, —
entitled ' A Supplement to the Profund,' and attributed by Pope to
Concaneu.

220

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

which rankled in his breast for years. In its way in-
deed it was a masterpiece of mean insinuation. There
were brought together in it all the charges against the
poet's character and conduct which had been for years
floating about in literary and social circles, besides those
which had already found their way into print. Not
only was there concentrated in it everything which
could annoy and irritate, there ran through it a vein of
cool contempt, which to a man of Pope's sensitive
nature must have been almost as galling as the charges
themselves.

There is no question that the article gave expression
to opinions about the poet which had become widely
prevalent. It was certainly appreciated and enjoyed by
some who were generally reckoned among his friends.
One of his old associates in the translation of the
1 Odyssey,' bore witness to the accuracy of its delineation
of his character. " Mist," wrote Fenton to Broome,
" had a very severe paper against him in the last jour-
nal, . . . ^written by one who has studied and understands
him." l Certainly, nothing calculated to injure him in
the estimation of the public was overlooked. The poet
who sets out to sink in his reputation, it was asserted,
must make it a point to publish such authors as he lias
least studied and are most likely to miscarry under his
hands. He must in revising forget to discharge the
dull duty of an editor, and make it impossible to deter-
mine whether his errors ore due to ignorance or to rapid-
ity of execution. He must lend liis name for a good
sum of money to promote the discredit of an exorbitant

1 Feutou to Broome, April .3, 1728, Pope'i ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 143.

221

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

subscription. He must misapprehend the meaning of
passages in Greek which he has sought to turn into
English. On the other hand, in his own tongue he
must wrest the language of others from their natural
meaning in order to serve his own purposes. He must
undertake a book in his own name by subscription and
get a great part of it done by assistants. He must de-
vote himself to getting off on the public three new mis-
cellanjr volumes of old and second-hand wares : for gain
is the principal end of his art, and it will further furnish
him an opportunity of indulging any lurking spleen
which he feels. He must make it an indispensable rule
to sacrifice to his " prof und wit " his friend, his modesty,
his God, or any other transitory regards, in the frequent
compositions he puts forth in the three different styles
of the vituperative, the prurient, and the atheistical.
Much more there was of the same sort.

Pope chose to ascribe to Theobald the authorship of
this little .but venomous essay. In his list of articles
published against himself he so registered it, though he
put it down there as " supposed "to be by him. To
this belief in its origin he certainly clung for years, if
not always. The charge of having lent his name for
money for the benefit of an exorbitant subscription
was the one which irritated him especially. He cited
it among the 'Testimonies of Authors,' prefixed to ' The
Dunciad,' as having been made in this article by one
" whom," he said, " I take to be Mr. Theobald." Three
years after, we find him expressing his resentment about
it and still imputing definitely to the same person the
circulation of the story, if not its invention. In Novem-

222

POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK

ber, 1731, with this very matter in mind, he wrote to
Tonson that he had suffered not a little on that pub-
lisher's account, by one lie of Theobald's venting.1 No
positive evidence can be secured either for or against
this ascription of the authorship. If Theobald were
really the writer of the essay, he would have exhibited
a capacity for flinging dirt which Pope himself might
have envied. On the surface the view is not reason-
able. It displays none of the characteristics of his ordi-
nary style. Theobald had ability of a certain sort ;
but it was not the sort of ability here manifested. It
did not lie in insinuative vituperation. But, whether
written by him or not, Pope chose to hold him respon-
sible for it ; and the cleverness as well as the malevo-
lence of the attack, while furnishing the most palpable
proof that its author had the least possible right to be
reckoned a dunce, would, nevertheless, still further
stimulate the angry poet to make the man to whom he
attributed it occupy the most prominent position in his
forthcoming satire.

For all this time, Pope had been forging a thunder-
bolt which he purposed to launch upon all his foes;
and, in his eyes, all were foes who did not assent to the
opinion of his character and genius which he assumed
for himself. The conception had been for a long while
in his mind. Whether or not it was desirable or feas-
ible to carry it into execution, he had been uncertain.
The project had been taken up occasionally only to be
laid aside. But the needed incentive had been furnished
in the damaging criticism which had demolished his pre-

1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. ix. p. 551, letter of November 14, 1731.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tensions as an editor. In its author he had found at last
his hero. Accordingly, the time had now arrived to put
into effect his long delayed intention. Not all his plans
indeed had succeeded. But few of the men whose ini-
tials had been given in the treatise on the Bathos had
been induced to make any retort. Still, there was
enough of clamor, even if contributed mainly by the
irresponsible and the unassailed, to furnish him with
what might be deemed sufficient justification for the
next step he was about to take ; for, as it has already
been intimated, it was not a reason for his course that
he was after, but a pretext. Accordingly, on the 18th
of May, 1728, appeared ' The Dunciad ' in its original
form, and with Theobald as its original hero. The fron-
tispiece represented an owl perched upon a pile of books
by various authors ; and among these was conspicuously
visible the title of * Shakespeare Restored.'

224

CHAPTER XII

4 The Dunciad ' in its original form is the greatest
satire in the English language. It suffers, as does all
satire of even the highest order, from the faet that the
individuals and incidents that excite the real or assumed
indignation of the author become dim even to the men
of the generation immediately succeeding, and with the
lapse of time often fade away entirely. The persons are
not known, the allusions are not understood. The point
of keen and delicate thrusts is largely and sometimes
wholly missed. Still 4 The Dunciad,' in spite of the vast
number of names it records, has been but little affected
by the ignorance of the age and the men which has come
to prevail. The satire in it against individuals is often
so general that what has been said of one would do
equally well for another. In fact, at the very time it
did equally well. There is nothing more characteristic
of the poem than the extent to which the names were
dropped, resumed, exchanged, and substituted for one
another in successive editions. The attack apparently
so personal became, in consequence, as impersonal as if a
fictitious designation had been employed. But far more
than this, there were in the work passages of brilliant
15 225

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

poetry which lifted it out of the region of the particular
into that of the universal.

This is all true of 4 The Dunciad ' in its original form.

It is altogether less true of it as we find it in modern
editions. The changes necessitated by the recast of the
poem have largely impaired its excellence as a work of
art. What was originally the leading motive has be-
come a subject of merely incidental allusion. The sub-
stitution of Cibber for Theobald as its hero utterly
destro}red the unity of the poem, involved the rejection or
misapplication of some of its wittiest lines, and rendered
pointless much of its keenest satire. The recast which
owed its origin to an ebullition of personal anger and the
keen suffering caused the poet by a most effective re-
joinder to an attack of his own, has been defended by the
poorest kind of inconclusive reasoning. The result it-
self has shown the folly of the action taken. The change
of heroes is the main reason why 4 The Dunciad ' is now so
little read, and with so much difficulty understood. It
has lost all the interest which it originally had as the
greatest literary production to which Shakespearean con-
troversy has given birth. This interest would have gone
on increasingly with the constantly increasing attention
paid later to everything connected with the life and
works of the dramatist. Furthermore the change was
absurd in itself. Whatever were Colley Cibber's defects,
they were not in the least those belonging to a dunce of
any sort, still less — if the expression be permitted — of
the sort of dunce which Pope set out to depict. The
labored sophistry put forth by partisans of Pope to de-
fend this unhappy change have had little other result

226

THE ORIGINAL * DUNCIAD'

than to lead the reader to believe that they are uncon-
sciously justifying their own pretensions to be included
in a work of the same character.

' The Dunciad,' however, was far from being directed
against Theobald alone. In it Pope expended upon
every one he hated or distrusted the stores of wrath
which he had been accumulating since his first produc-
tion had appeared, about twenty years before. All who
had ever found fault or were suspected of having found
fault with his writings or his character were compre-
hended under the general name of Dunces. No one was
too insignificant to escape ; no one too exalted not to be
alluded to if not to be struck at directly. While, there-
fore, the satire was mainly directed — especially the first
book — against Theobald and his method of editing, the
controversy about Shakespeare became involved with
the innumerable other quarrels in which Pope had been
and still was concerned. It is impossible to disentangle
it from these, with which it was united and into which it
was not infrequently merged. Hence a fuller treatment
of ' The Dunciad ' becomes necessary than the particular
controversy itself would here demand. It is the more
important to furnish a complete history of the circum-
stances under which the original editions appeared, be-
cause l The Dunciad,' as a Shakespearean document can
hardly be said to be known now. It has practically
passed away not merely from the memory, but from the
sight of men.

The ' Dunciad ' which holds so conspicuous a place in
early Shakespearean controversy has not been in exist-
ence since 1743. Its place was then taken by another

227

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

work bearing the same name, including most of the same
matter, but so modified in details, so shorn of certain of
its previous characteristics, that no one could now get
from it a conception of the feelings and motives which
originally brought it into being. In its very earliest
form it has occasionally been reprinted in editions of
Pope purporting to be complete. In the fuller and more
important form found in the editions of 1729 much of it
has never been reprinted at all save in the most frag-
mentary way. The original notes have in a number of
cases disappeared with the lines to which they were alone
applicable. Several of those aimed especially at Theo-
bald, and designed to satirize his method of dealing with
the text of Shakespeare, Avere necessarily swept away
when Cibber was made hero in his place. The conse-
quence is that the attack and defence to which the work
gave rise as well as the causes to which it owed its own
existence, are no longer comprehensible to him who reads
its contents in modern copies of the poem. Very few
are familiar with the varying forms it underwent in suc-
cessive editions. It is indeed in only a very limited
number of the great libraries of the world that they
would find the facilities for making themselves so. There
is consequently not only ample excuse but absolute ne-
cessity for going into the subject with a degree of detail
which would be unjustifiable were the materials upon
which the conclusions are based generally accessible to
students of Shakespeare.

The facts connected with the first appearance of this
satire shall be given as concisely as is consistmt with
any clear understanding of the circumstances which are

228

THE ORIGINAL <D UNCI AD'

to be narrated. The fundamental distinction between
the work in its original and in its present form must be
kept steadily in view. 4 The Dunciad,' as the modern
reader finds it, is a poem in four books, with Colley Gib-
ber as its hero, and Theobald only incidentally attacked.
As a factor in Shakespearean controversy it is a poem in
three books with Lewis Theobald as its hero, and Gibber
incidentally attacked. In its very earliest form it came
out shortly after the middle of May, 1728, in a small
duodecimo volume. No name was on the title-page
except that of the publisher, A. Dodd. This was a
bookseller whose place of business is put down in
other volumes in which he or she was concerned as
"without Temple Bar." The frontispiece represented
an owl holding in his beak a label having on it the
words " The Dunciad," and perched upon a pile of
books. This was built up of the works of contempo-
rary authors — • Blackmore, Ozell, Dennis, and Gibber,
as well as Theobald — whom Pope despised or af-
fected to despise. The volume also contained on the
title-page "Dublin printed; London reprinted," and the
date, 1728. It had been and it continued to be adver-
tised in the newspapers as the second edition ; 2 in the
book itself this particular misstatement was implied, but
not asserted. Further, special notice was given that the

1 E.g: "This day is published The Dunciad. An heroic room.
The second edition. Dublin printed; London, reprinted for A. Dodd.
Trice one shilling."

" N. B. Next week will be published, The Progress of Dulness, By an
eminent hand.'' ('The Country Journal: or The Craftsman, ' Saturday,
May 25,1728, No. 99.)

Pope, in a letter to Lord Oxford, dated M;iy 2<), speaks of the work being
out, but says that he had uot seen it. Tope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 235.

229

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

next week would be published ' The Progress of Dul-
ness ' by an eminent hand. This announcement of a
work not in existence and never contemplated was a
further mystification which was kept up still later.
It appeared on the verso of the last leaf of some of
the editions of 1728.

The words " Dublin printed," were designed to create
the belief that the work had been first published in Ire-
land. An additional motive was to convey the impres-
sion that some one there — presumably Swift — was its
author or had at least some share in its production. To
strengthen this view the dedication to him under the
various names of " Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gul-
liver," which had been prepared, was for the time being
suppressed. The belief that he was its writer would fur-
ther spring naturally from the assertion contained in the
publisher's preface that the unknown author had a better
opinion of Pope's integrity, joined with a greater per-
sonal love for him than any other of his numerous friends
and admirers. When the following year Pope brought
out i The Dunciad ' in its full form, he pretended that the
preface was throughout a piece of continued irony ; and
that two days after the appearance of the satire, every
one knew that he himself was its author. This particu-
lar portion of the prefatory matter belongs to that species
of irony which needs notes and commentaries to explain
its intent. Certainly its statements wrought at the time
the desired effect of misleading the public. Swift was
for a while widely supposed to have had something to
do with the preparation of the satire, even if he were
not its actual writer. " Fierce is the present war among

230

THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD'

authors," was an observation made in a work which ap-
peared almost contemporaneously with ' The Dunciad.'
" Swift," it added, " had mauled Theobald, but Theobald
had mauled Pope." 1 Communication in those days be-
tween the two capitals was slow and unsatisfactory. A
mystification of the kind here practised could now be
dispelled in a day. Then it took weeks and even
months to clear it up, if it were ever cleared up at
all.

The statement that the book was a reprint led also to
the conclusion that it had not only been brought out
originally in Dublin, but that it had been brought out
the year before. This came necessarily into conflict
with Pope's assertion that it owed its existence to
the clamor which had been aroused by the contents
of the final volume of the « Miscellanies.' Still, this
deception as regards the time of the first appearance
of * The Dunciad ' was never abandoned. On the con-
trary, it was upheld and strengthened. In later editions
" written in the year 1727 " appeared pretty regularly on
the title-page. This is one of the class of truths which
confer and are intended to confer upon their utterers the
benefit of a lie. Part of the work — certainly nearly all
the first book relating to Theobald — must have been
written in 1727. To this extent full tribute was ren-
dered to veracity. But the reader would be sure to
draw the conclusion from these unusual words on a
title-page that " written in the year 1727 " meant also
that il bad been published that year. The deception
was carried further. In later editions — in some indeed

1 The Twickenham Hotchpotch, p. 4.
231

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

which have " written in the year 1727 " on the title-page
— a note in the body of the work tells us that it was
written in 1726 and published the following year. As
there was no London edition of this date, a Dublin one
which never had a being was long the despair of bibliog-
raphers. The falsification was never cleared up till the
y latter half of the nineteenth century.

' The Dunciad ' in its first form contained but few
notes. These, save once or twice where they touched
upon Theobald, were of a purely explanatory character.
The names of the numerous living persons referred to
in the poem were very rarely printed in full. Instead,
either the initial and final letters were given or the ini-
tial letter only. The hero, of course, was an exception.
He invariably appeared as Tibbald. Where nothing but
the initial letter was found, the person intended could
only be guessed at, unless he appeared at the end of the
line. Then the ryme would ordinarily indicate who
was meant. The identification, easy in some instances,
was, however, difficult in others. The uncertainty
gave opportunity for wide conjecture. As some of the
authors were hardly known at all outside of their im-
mediate circle, as some of the incidents referred to were
even less known, as some of the scandal suggested
rather than asserted could hardly be said to be known
at all, it was inevitable that public curiosity should be
much piqued and that mistakes should be occasionally
made.

Blunders were committed wlien even the first and last
letters of the name were given. A gross one occurred
in the Dublin reprint of the original which came out

232

THE ORIGINAL lD UNCI AD*

the same year. In one line of the first book the goddess
of Dulness is represented as having seen rt furious

D n foam." l A Key which soon appeared explained

this as meaning the somewhat noted publisher, Dunton,
whom Pope subsequently described in a note as " a
broken bookseller and abusive scribbler." 2 But in this
Dublin edition of 1728 the name, there printed in full,
appeared as Dryden. A blunder of this sort, however
agreeable to Swift, could hardly have been anything
but vexatious to Pope. Yet it is a remarkable illus-
tration of the reputation which the poet's tortuous
course has secured him in modern times that he has
been suspected of deliberately contriving such a possible
interpretation of the initial and final letters. As the in-
clusion of the great name of Dryden would have utterly
destroyed the force of his attack upon other authors,
there seems little reason to doubt the sincerity of the
annoyance he expressed at the blunder. Still, in one
way it did him good service. It gave him an additional
pretext for denouncing these early editions as surrep-
titious and incorrect.

If doubt as to the proper identification could prevail
at the capital, it would be sure to exist on a much
greater scale the moment the book reached places dis-
tant from London. By readers in them, no possible clue
could be found in many instances which would enable
them to fill up the blank spaces with the letters neces-
sary to indicate the name. Hence a clamor at once
arose for a Key which would supply the needed informa-

1 Dnnciad, 1728, Rook 1, 1. 04.

2 Note to lino 136, Book 2, quarto of 1729; line 141 in modern editions*

233

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tion. The demand must surely have been foreseen. At
all events, a little sheet of four pages, made speedily its
appearance, containing the names in full of the persons
whose initial or initial and final letters had been given.
The chances are that this key either owed its existence
to Pope's instigation or was brought out with his conni-
vance. It was exactly of the same size as the duo-
decimo page and could easily be bound up with it.
Even had he not furnished it himself, he could not but
have been aware that there was one man who could be
relied upon to produce something of the sort. This was
the indefatigable Curll. Scarcely had the satire ap-
peared when that publisher advertised a Key.1 From
his house came successive editions of it which were
made to correspond with the successive changes of name
in the text.

The poem itself was ushered in with a sort of preface
written really by the author, but purporting to come from
the publisher. It was exceedingly laudatory of Pope,
and of its perfect sincerity in this particular, there is nat-
urally no question. Otherwise it abounded in equivo-
cal phraseology capable of being interpreted in various
ways, as well as in unmistakably contemptuous allu-
sions to the men who were made the objects of attack.
It started out with the assertion that if any scandal was
vented against a person of high distinction in the state
or in literature, it usually met with a quiet reception.
On the other hand, if a known scoundrel or blockhead

1 " I see Curll lias advertised a Key to the Dunciad. I have been
asked for one by several; I wish the true one was come out." (Lord
Oxford to Pope, in letter dated May 27, 1 728, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii.
p. 236.)

234

THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD*

chanced to be touched upon, a whole legion of scribblers
were at once up in arms. This condition of things had
just been illustrated. For the past two months the
town had been persecuted with pamphlets, advertise-
ments, letters, and weekly essays, not only against the
writings of Mr. Pope, but against his character and per-
son. This statement was, as we have seen, an exaggera-
tion at the time itself; later it was converted into a
gross exaggeration. The actual facts and the order of
events naturally soon became dim in men's memory;
and the editions which appeared in the following decade
contained a series of statements which were not only
contradictory to the actual facts, but to some extent
contradictory to each other. In them, in a note to the
original preface, which had been relegated to the appen-
dix, Pope remarked that in his treatise on the Bathos
the species of bad writers had been arranged in classes,
and initial letters of names prefixed for the most part at
random. But the number of these men was so great that
some one or other of them took every letter to himself.
Consequently all of them fell into a violent fury, and for
a half a year or more the common newspapers — in most
of which they had some property as being hired writers
— were filled with the most abusive falsehood and scur-
rility they could possibly devise. This was what had
led to the publication of ' The Dunciad.' Accordingly,
the two months which had elapsed between the 'Miscel-
lanies ' and the satire had been extended to more than
six. The score of articles, long or short, that had ap-
peared, and for some of which the poet was responsible
himself, had been swelled into a number indefinitely

285

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

large. Furthermore, a work which according to the
title-page or notes was written in 1727 had been occa-
sioned by scurrilities and falsehoods that were not pro-
duced till 1728.

Against these virulent attacks the preface went on to
say that there had been no reply. Of the men who had
received pleasure from Pope's writings — amounting by
modest computation to more than one hundred thou-
sand in the British islands, besides those dwelling in
regions outside — not a single person had been forward
to stand up in his defence, save the author of this satire.
That he was an intimate friend of the poet, though
plainly not the poet himself, was clear. Not a man had
been attacked in it who had not previously begun the
warfare. Further, how the publisher came to get hold
of the work was a matter of no consequence. Having,
however, come into the possession of it, he felt that it
was wrong to detain it from the public, because the
names which were its chief ornaments were daily dying
off — dying off in truth so fast that delay would soon
render the poem unintelligible. He would not, how-
ever, have the reader too anxious to decipher from the
initials used the persons indicated. Even after he had
found them out, he would probably know no more of
them than before. Still, it was better to present them
in the form in which they appeared rather than give fic-
titious names. Such a course would only multiply the
scandal. Were the hero to be designated by some such
appellation as Codrus it would have been applied to sev-
eral persons instead of being limited to one. All this
unjust detraction was obviated by calling him Theobald,

236

THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD1

which by good luck happened to be the name of a real
person.

The foregoing are the parts of the preface which have
any interest for us here. Its whole character had been
determined by the change of plan which had taken
place. The satire had not come out in the manner at
first contemplated. Not even was the name preserved
which had been given it when the poet had planned its
creation. As originally conceived, it had been the in-
tention to call it 'The Progress of Dulness,' and the
matter contained in its third book answered pretty ac-
curately to the title. But when the design had been
largely modified, when by the numerous additions and
the introduction of a hero personalities instead of gene-
ralities had become the main instead of the subsidiary
staple of the satire, the poet's natural timidity made him
hold back for a while from carrying out in its complete-
ness the scheme he had devised. Accordingly, in the
first edition practically everything but the text was
shorn away. Not only was nothing said to establish
decisively the authorship, but the very advertisement
that the satire was speedily to be followed by a poem
entitled ' The Progress of Dulness ' and written by an
eminent hand, would tend to divert from Pope the sus-
picion of having been the writer of the one which pre-
ceded it.

That the poet himself was soon to bring out a work
with the designation just given, had got more or less
abroad. An article in a contemporary newspaper as-
serted this distinctly. It was transmitted by a corre-
spondent who signed himself A. B., and was attributed

237

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

by Pope to Dennis. This ascription of the authorship is
probably correct, for it exhibits some choice charac-
teristics of that master-critic's vigorous vituperation.
After attacking Pope's writings generally, and speci-
fically his treatise on the Bathos, he closed with a
paragraph referring to the forthcoming work and its
author. " Yet, notwithstanding his ignorance and stu-
pidity," remarked the writer, " this animalculum of an
author is, forsooth! at this very juncture writing the
Progress of Dulness. Yes! the author of Windsor
Forest, of the Temple of Fame, of the What d'ye Call
it ; nay, the author even of the Profund is writing the
Progress of Dulness! A most vain and impertinent
enterprise ! For they who have read his several pieces
which we mentioned above, have read the Progress of
Dulness ; a progress that began in Windsor Forest, and
ended in the Profund; as the short progress of the
devil's hogs ended in the depth of the sea." l

This small duodecimo of 1728, without author's name
and practically without commentary, was consequently
put forth as a feeler. If it failed, the course he had
adopted put Pope in a position to disown it ; if it suc-
ceeded he could reap all the benefit and would be en-
couraged to go on and bring out the complete edition he
had in mind and largely in readiness. This intention
had been distinctly hinted in the preface. " If it pro-
voke the author," said the theoretical publisher, "to
give us a more perfect edition, I have my end." As it
turned out, as indeed it might confidently have been
expected to turn out, the precaution was wholly un-

i Daily Journal, May 11, 1728.

238

THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD'

necessary. The reception the work met showed Pope
that he had nothing to fear from the indifference of the
public. The town, to use the phrase then current, had
never before seen served up for its delectation such a
mess of scandal, spite, misrepresentation, malice, and all
uncharitableness, couched in brilliant verse, abounding
in pointed lines and containing passages of rare beauty.
The personalities tickled the most jaded appetite for
invective and abuse. Of themselves, they would have
averted failure even had the wit been less. Nor,
further, had there been neglect to appeal to the innate
nastiness of human nature by descriptions which it was
disgraceful to write and which still remain disgusting
to read.

All doubt about the complete success of the work was
at once removed. On every side it produced comment,
inquiry, indignation. Every one interested in literature
was eager to read it. Every one who had even the
humblest share in producing literature was eager to see
if he were in it, to rejoice if he were not, to condole —
though doubtless, after the manner of men, secretly
amused — with friends who had been included in its
wide-embracing scope. The almost instantaneous suc-
cess of the satire is established by the advertisement of a
second edition on the first of June.1 This contained the
further announcement that speedily would follow ' The
Progress of Dulness,' which would serve as an explana-
tion of the poem. It was accompanied with a quotation
from 'Paradise Lost' which shows the sense of exulta-

1 ' Mist's Journal/ June 1 : 'The Craftsman,' June 1, 1728. This does
not seem to be " the second edition " of the previous advertisements.

239

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tion that now filled the poet's heart at the success of his
experiment. The passage, of which the last line is
Pope's, reads as follows :

" (He) as a herd
Of goats and tim'rous flocks together thronged
Drove them before him Thunderstruck, pursued
Into the vast Profund."

A few days later — on June 8 — followed the advertise-
ment of the third edition. These were not all which
came out this year. Pope himself in his correspondence
spoke of the five surreptitious editions which appeared
before the quarto of 1729; and in the list he probably
did not include the reprint published in Ireland.1

1 What and how many editions there were of 'The Dunciad' in 1728
are facts not yet definitely ascertained. The list given from ' Notes aiid
Queries ' in El win and Courthope's ' Works of Pope/ vol. iv. pp. 299-301,
numbers five; but included are the Dublin reprint of that year, and three
impressions from the same type. There is no mention of an edition — of
which Pope first spoke in a note to line 86 of the first book in the quarto
of 1729 — which for " glad chains " reads " gold chains." " The ignorance
of these moderns ! " runs the note on glad chains. " This was altered in
one edition to ' Gold Chains,' showing more regard to the metal of which
the chains of aldermen are made, than to the beauty of the Latinism and
Grecism, nay of figurative speech itself. — Lailas segetes, glad, for making
glad, &c. — Sen."

The edition with the line reading "gold chains" is in the library of
Yale University, and is distinct from any of the others described. The
substantives with scarcely an exception begin with capital letters. It
has on the verso of the last page the announcement found in the news-
paper advertisements u Speedily will be published, The Progress of Dul-
ness, an Historical Poem. By an eminent hand. Price Is. 6d." In the
first line also it has Books and the spelling Interludes in the note on Hey-
wood on page 5. It seems to correspond to the C. C. mentioned in a com-
munication to 'Notes and Queries,' 5th Series, vol. xii. p. 304, Oct. 18,
1879.

240

CHAPTER XIII

'THE DUNCIAD ' OF 1729

The success of ' The Dunciad ' in its incomplete form
dispelled any idea Pope may have entertained of keep-
ing the authorship of the poem concealed. He accord-
ingly reverted to his first plan and set out to carry into
effect the intimation given in the publisher's preface of
a more perfect edition. At this he labored during a good
share of the rest of the year. In the preparation of
the notes he secured to a slight extent the assistance
of his friends ; but it was to a very slight extent. Most
of them are unmistakably of his composition. Still, he
never scrupled to assert that he wrote none of them at
all whenever it became convenient for him to disavow
their authorship. The work was now to come out with
all the learned paraphernalia attending the publication
of Greek and Latin classics. Prolegomena, appendices,
and textual notes were to be supplied. With the elab-
orate furniture of • The Dunciad ' all modern students of
the poet are familiar, though, while the general plan has
remained unaltered, there has been great variation in de-
tails. Much of the commentary had unquestionably been
prepared long before. But the pieces that appeared after
the publication of 'The Dunciad' of 1728 gave Pope
10 241

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

new matter for note and comment ; and every opportunity
for statement or misstatement, which he believed would
serve his turn, was sedulously improved. By the end of
the year the new edition was ready for the press.

The news of its coming was spread abroad before it
actually came. To Warburton, Theobald wrote in
March, 1729, that he would hear " from our friend Con-
canen" — a friendship which Warburton later took care
to forget — that the Parnassian war was likely to break
out fiercely again, and that * The Dunciad ' had been pom-
pously reprinted in quarto, and that its publication was
every day expected.1 At the very time this letter was
written the work had been advertised as published,2 and
had already been dispersed abroad to some extent by the
agency of three good-natured noblemen whom Pope had
prevailed upon to act in a certain way as his representa-
tives and accept an assignment of the temporary owner-
ship of the volume before it was allowed to go regularly
into the hands of the trade. In the dedication of a col-
lection of pieces about 4 The Dunciad ' which appeared
three years later the statement was made by Pope,
through the agency of Savage, that " on the 12th of
March, 1729, at St. James's, that poem was presented to
the king and queen (who had before been pleased to read
it) by the Right Honorable Sir Robert Walpole; and
some days after the whole impression was taken and dis-
persed by several noblemen and persons of the first dis-

1 Letter of March 18, 1729, in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 209.

2 " This week is published in a beautiful letter in quarto, A Compleat
and Correct Edition of the Dunciad, with the Prolegomena, etc., etc.
Printed for A Dod, near Temple Bar." ('London Gazette,' No. 6760,
Tuesday, March 11, to Saturday, March 15.)

242

< THE DUN CI AD' OF 1729

tinction.1 " In this same dedication the ridiculous story
was gravely told — it was safe then to tell it — that on
the day the satire was regularly put to sale, a crowd of
authors besieged the publisher's shop, with entreaties,
advices, threats of law, even cries of treason, in order to
hinder the coming out of the work, while, on the other
hand, the booksellers and hawkers made as eager efforts
to procure it.2 This particular specimen of mendacity, of
no importance among the more serious mendacities con-
cocted, would not even need an allusion here, had it not
been cited, though not certified to, by Dr. Johnson, and in
consequence been seriously repeated as a fact by some
of Pope's biographers.

This new edition, entitled i The Dunciad Variorum,'
purported to be the first complete and correct one. In
form it was an elaborate quarto. It did its proper duty
in denouncing the previous ones as surreptitious and
inaccurate. The owl of the frontispiece was discarded.
In its place appeared an ass, chewing a thistle, and
laden with a panier of books upon which an owl was
perched. The titles of the volumes were distinctly
legible, and works of Welsted, Ward, Dennis, Oldmixon
and Mrs. Haywood, and plays of Theobald made up the
list. Strewn about in various places were copies of
certain newspapers. In the poem itself the names of
the persons mentioned in it were, with about half a
dozen exceptions, printed in full. There were embraced
in it, besides the commentary, several other pieces.

1 Dedication to the Earl of Middlesex of a Collection of Pieces pub-
lished on Occasion of the Dunciad, p. vi.
* Ibid.

243

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Among these was a prefatory letter to the publisher
defending the work itself from charges which had been
brought against it, and exhausting the resources of the
language in celebrating the virtues of all sorts of its
author. This letter was signed by an obscure and
inoffensive private gentleman named William Cleland.
It is perfectly well known now, it was perfectly well
known then, save to the thick-and-thin partisans of
the poet, that it was written by Pope himself. The
notes were in some instances pretendedly philological,
occasionally explanatory, but in most cases personal.
Several of the first class purported to come from Theo-
bald himself. These were mainly devoted to casting
ridicule upon him and the methods he had employed
in establishing the text of Shakespeare.

The very opening note of the commentary is a fair
example of the nature of these attacks. It is on the
title given to the poem ; and as the occasion of it has
never been set forth, it may be well to instance it here
as a fair specimen of the pretendedly textual annotations
which the work contained. The spelling of Shake-
speare's name without the final e had been general since
the Restoration. It so appeared on the title-page of the
second impression of the third folio, which bears the date
of 1664. So it was spelled in the fourth folio and
in the editions of Rowe and Pope. Theobald, who had
the scholar's instinct for accuracy in details, followed
the original authorities in adding the e to the end of the
word. He made no comment upon it ; he simply used
it. This was enough, however, to give Pope the pre-
text he needed. On the very first page of the poem he

244

'THE DUNCIAD* OF 1729

had two elaborate notes on the proper way of spelling
the title. They were attributed respectively to Theo-
bald and Scriblerus. The former is represented as
doubting whether the right reading had been preserved.
Ought it not to be spelled Dunceiad with an e ? Then
Pope proceeded to make Theobald talk of himself in the
note to which his name is signed. " That accurate and
punctual man of letters, the Restorer of Shakespeare,"
he is reported as saying, " constantly observes the pre-
servation of this very letter e, in spelling the name of
his beloved author, and not like his common careless
editors, with the omission of one, nay sometimes of two
ee's (as Shak'spear) which is utterly unpardonable."
It may be added that the spelling of the name without
the final e was followed also in the editions of Hanmer
and Warburton. Though now discarded it continued
to prevail to some extent during the latter half of the
eighteenth century. The practice occasionally extended
even into the nineteenth.

The main object of notes like the foregoing was to
cast discredit upon Theobald's labors; to convey the
impression that the corrections he made did not touch
anything essential to the understanding of the author,
but were devoted to petty points of punctuation and
orthography, that in short they were entitled to the
designation which had been given them of "piddling."
A number of reflections of this general character were
scattered through the commentary ; but in consequence
of the change of hero they have not been preserved in
modern editions. This omission has been a distinct
advantage to Pope's later reputation ; for however they

245

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

may have seemed to the men of his own generation,
they would serve now only to reveal his deplorable lack
of insight into the proper method of editing the text.
But the effect wrought by them remained ; and it still
remains all the more potent because they themselves
have disappeared.

In the appendix was further contained a specimen of
a Latin treatise by Scriblerus, styled Virgilius Restau-
ratus. This 'Virgil Restored' of Scriblerus was of course
intended as a satire upon the title of Theobald's previous
criticism of Pope's edition of the dramatist, though it
may likewise have been aimed indirectly at Bentley. It
z^{/\ m JU^started out with the assertion that the text of the iEneid

was full of innumerable faults and of spurious readings
which had escaped the notice of all commentators.
This piece was the beginning of an effort to restore it
to its pristine integrity. Then followed various emen-
dations. The wit here displayed was very clumsy and
was altogether better calculated to produce depression
of spirits than exhilaration. In this edition too there
were a number of errata specified. One gets the impres-
sion from examining it that the errata had been pur-
posely introduced into the text for the purpose of
preparing a comment upon their correction. These,
Pope said, he had been disposed to trust to the candor
and benignity of the reader to rectify by the pen as
accidental faults escaped the press. " But seeing," he
added, " that certain censors do give to such the name
of Corruptions of the Text and False Readings, charge
them on the editor, and judge that correcting . the same
is to be called Restoring and an achievement that brings

246

lTHE DUNCIAD' OF 1729

honor to the critic ; we have, in like manner, taken it
upon ourselves. "

Now followed a most singular device for attracting
further attention to a work which needed for its suc-
cess no extraneous support of any kind or from any
quarter. It has been the means of perplexing bibliog-
raphers immeasurably. While it perhaps can never be
so decisively cleared up as to afford no chance for ques-
tion, the account now to be given satisfies all the condi-
tions which then prevailed and explains all the facts
which are now known to exist. It is furthermore in
complete harmony with the practices in which the poet
during his career was wont to indulge. Pope's genius
was sufficient to raise him above all his contemporaries.
His writings had likewise this peculiar element of success
that they were in fullest accord with the prevalent liter-
ary taste of his time. Yet he was never satisfied with
the natural curiosity which would necessarily be aroused
by the productions of the most popular author of the age.
He was always striving to heighten by some device the
attention of the public and to revive its interest if he
fancied it to be waning. ' The Rape of the Lock ' in its
complete form had been published only a year, when, not
content with the legitimate success which it had obtained,
he sought to draw towards it the eyes of the public by a
pamphlet about it written by himself under an assumed
name. The treatise was entitled ' Key to the Lock.'
Its object was to show the dangerous tendency of the
poem, and that it was really inimical to the religion and
government of the country. No drearier attack was ever
made upon Pope's writings by any of the critics he de-

247

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tested than was this affected exposure prepared by him-
self of the evil designs which had animated him in the
composition of this purely literary mock-heroic. Such
were the sorts of arts which in his attack upon Addison
he intimated had been employed by that writer. They
were the ones which had enabled him to rise. He im-
plied that it was because he in turn had employed them
that Addison's hostility towards him had been excited.
Pope in truth was so accustomed to practising tricks of
this kind that he seems in all honesty to have believed
that other men were constantly doing the same thing.

In this new enterprise, about to be related, of attract-
ing attention to his work, he was not original. During
the previous year Pope had been a curious and interested
spectator of a device of Voltaire. It was a contest be-
tween rival editions of the same work carried on in the
advertising columns of the newspapers. The ingenuity
\ displayed in the whole proceeding was of a kind to kin-
dle the poet's admiration and to call forth his imitation.
Voltaire, then exiled to England, had brought out by
subscription his epic La Henriade in a sumptuous quarto
form. It appeared in February, 1728. The next month
the expensive quarto edition was followed not by one,
but by two cheaper octavo editions. They came or pur-
ported to come respectively from the publishing houses
of Woodman and Lyon1 and of Prevost. No sooner
were they both on the market than the latter put
forth an advertisement in which he said that his was
the only complete edition; that it had appeared with
the author's consent ; and that the two other editions

1 Wilford's ' Monthly Chronicle ' for March, 1 728.

248

'THE DUN CI AD' OF 1729

— the one in quarto and the one in octavo — had been
castrated. Voltaire at once came out with a protest.
He had granted no such privilege as claimed. It was
something unheard of, he added, for a bookseller to call
an author's own edition castrated. On the contrary Pre-
vost had printed six bad lines taken from the old edition
of the epic called La Ligue, for which in its new form
six better lines had been substituted. The publisher
in turn was not slow to retort. His, he rejoined, was
a perfectly authorized copy of the poem, legitimately
acquired, as he could show clearly. Furthermore, he
had in his possession several copies of the author's
own edition containing the six lines which had been
replaced in other copies by those said to be better.
Voltaire took care to return at once to the charge with a
counter-statement. For some time longer the carefully
arranged squabble went on. At last a peace was patched
up between the contending parties, and a final adver-
tisement announced that a reconciliation had been ef-
fected, and that mutual regard had come to prevail
between author and publisher.1

In those days newspapers were very small and adver-
tisements were very few. A quarrel carried on in this
fashion was certain to come to the knowledge of every
reader. A man who could be concerned in so prepos-
terous an effort to heighten interest as the composition
of the ' Key to the Lock ' was not likely to let go untried
a so much more clever device to attract the attention of

1 See advertising columns of the ' London Post,' ' London Journal,' and
' The Craftsman ' during the latter part of March, 1728, and subsequently.
The advertisement announcing the reconciliation of the two parties can Ik-
found in ' The Craftsman • for June 1.

249

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the public. lie not only followed it, but improved upon
it. Pope was not indeed one to engage personally in
a controversy of this sort. There was nothing in his
nature of Voltaire's reckless hardihood and directness
in carrying out his schemes. But he saw his way to
make the artifice more effective. Voltaire's experiment
of following the expensive quarto with two cheaper oc-
tavos instead of a single one recommended itself as an
example worth imitating, lie proceeded at once to
imitate it, and it was in the following fashion that the
thing was done.

The editions of 1728 had been printed for A. Dodd.
The quarto of 1729 bore on its title-page the name of
A. Dod. So it had been given in the advertisement
announcing it, but with the added notice that the place
of business was " near Temple Bar." l This would indi-
cate that the work came from the publishing-house
from which had proceeded the editions of the year
before. Thither accordingly expecting purchasers would
resort ; there the work would doubtless be found. The
omission in the advertisement of one of the d's of the
name would be regarded as merely an error of the press.
But when the quarto actually made its appearance and
the name of the publisher which stood on the title-page
was not A. Dodd but A. Dod, the matter assumed a
different aspect. The dropping of the final letter was
clearly due to no accident. Furthermore A. Dod's place
of business was not designated. This was at that time
the usual though not invariable practice of reputable
publishers, in days when streets were not numbered and

1 See note to page 242.

250

'THE DUNCIAD' OF 1729

directories did not abound. There seems no escape from
the conclusion that the proper name had been shorn of
its second d deliberately. The action was intended to
pave the way for the devices which were to follow.

Dod's quarto had not been long out before it was
followed by an octavo purporting to be published not by
A. Docl, but by A. Dob. This name was even more mys-
terious than the one of which it took the place. As in
that case there was here, too, nothing on the title-page to
indicate the local habitation of its owner. He seems
to have been a purely mythical creation. In what fol-
lows, however, he will be treated as a genuine charac-
ter until the time of his disappearance a few months
after. Dob's octavo was an exact reprint of the quarto.
If there were any changes at all, they were due to the
printer. It so closely followed its model that it reproduced
some of its minutest typographical errors, such for in-
stance as ' Attilla ' for ' Attila ' and 4 Chi-hoamte ' instead
of ■ Chi-hoamti ' in the Index of Persons. Again, it fol-
lowed it in placing against line 1G3 of Book II the figures
165, and consequently made the succeeding numbering all
wrong as well as the whole number of lines contained in
the book. Not even were the errata given in the quarto
corrected. The volume had also prefixed the frontispiece
of the ass laden with volumes.

Shortly after Dob's edition appeared, came out another.
It differed from the previous octavo in type and general
appearance.1 It bore on its title-page the name of Lawton

1 This is the edition which Pope refers to in his letter of Oct. o, 1729

(' Works,' vol. vii. p. 158). ( In il, he says, " You will find the octavo rather
more correct than the quarto, with some additions to the notes and epi-

251

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Gilliver, who was to become the publisher of many of
Pope's later writings. His place of business was given
as being at "Homer's Head, against St. Dunstan's
church, Fleet street." The volume contained as its
frontispiece the owl of the edition of 1728, though that
of the ass was also included in the body of the work, at
least in some copies. In this octavo were found certain
changes and additions which Pope made to the work
after the appearance of the quarto a few weeks before.
They were not a dozen in all, nor were they generally of
any great importance. The corrections indicated by the
errata of the previous editions were here made. Still,
Pope was unwilling to part with the implied sneer at
Theobald with which the list of these had opened. So
he substituted another set of errata containing the recti-
fication of various slight errors which had crept into
the text of the Greek and Latin passages that had
been cited. This gave him the desired opportunity of
reflecting ironically upon the ignorance of the author
of ' The Dunciad ' in quantity, accent, and grammar in
the two ancient tongues as well as in his own.

As soon as Gilliver had put his edition upon the mar-
ket he accompanied it with an advertisement denouncing
the one published by Dob. This was declared to be sur-
reptitious, piratical, and imperfect. A list of the most
important deficiencies were given and the pages where
they occurred. These were naturally the additions which
had been made to the reading matter in the prolegomena

grams cast in." It cannot refer to the later edition of this same year, as
is said by Courthope in the note to this letter. That, which bears on the
title-page " The Second edition," etc., was not then published.

252

♦ THE DUNCIAD* OF 1729

and notes in this second octavo. The only true edition,
it was added, was the one printed for Lawton Gilliver, at
whose shop could be had also the few copies that were
left of the quarto. It was clear from this announcement
that A. Dod had retired from business and had passed
over his stock to the one who was to become Pope's reg-
ular publisher. At least he disappeared from any further
connection with 4 The Dunciad ' save that in some of the
Gilliver octavos his name is found with a slightly differ-
ent title-page prefixed to what is in other respects the
same edition.

To Gilliver's advertisement Dob at once replied vig-
orously in another advertisement and at considerable
length. He scornfully repelled the attack upon the
volume which had come from his press. He stated,
and very truly stated, that all the pretended deficien-
cies in his edition were equally true of the pompous
quarto. The few trifling additions found in Gilliver's
octavo, which were asserted to be so material, he could
farther furnish printed separately. These would be given
gratis to all persons who had bought or might here-
after buy the octavo printed by himself. From him
too could be purchased for two shillings what the pub-
lic had been insulted by having been required to pay
as great a price as six shillings and sixpence to secure
in the quarto which contained no more. Further he
could point with pride to the fact that men could get
from him for a less price the same matter for which
Gilliver charged three shillings. Jn this way for about
a month the mythical Dob and the real Gilliver hurled
defiance at each other through the advertising columns

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of the newspapers.1 At last this farcical war ceased
altogether. In the silence which ensued, Dob followed
Dod in disappearing from the publishing field.

All the evidence obtainable points directly to the
conclusion that Gilliver was really the publisher of
the edition of 1729, so far as it had any publisher
save Pope himself ; and that from his shop came, directly
or indirectly, the quarto and both the octavo editions.
The first of these, indeed, though it did not bear his
name on the title-page, was advertised by him shortly
after its appearance.2 He certainly was the sole sur-
vivor of the conflict, if there was any conflict. Later
in the same year this same publishing-house brought out
the second edition of the work " with some additional
notes. " It corresponded very closely in its typography
with his previous octavo edition. At the outset, in
fact, its paging was precisely the same, reproducing
even the error by which the numbering of pages 19
to 24 was repeated. Its coming was announced some
time before it came.3 It was advertised in September

1 This controversy was carried on in the columns of the ' Daily
Journal' and 'Daily Post' and doubtless in other papers. Gilliver's
attack on Dob can be found in the ' Dady Journal ' of April 27, and
' Daily Post ' of April 29 and April 30. Dob's counterblast in the
1 Daily Journal ' of April 27, and for some days later : in the number
for May 3, its form was somewhat changed.

2 'Monthly Chronicle ' for April, 1729.

3 "Next week will be published, The Second Edition, with some
additional notes and epigrams, ' The Dunciad ' with notes Variorum,
and the Prolegomena of Scriblcrus. Printed for Lawton Gilliver at
Homer's Head, etc." ('The Daily Post,' Wednesday, Sept. 10, 1729.)
Prom the same paper, Monday, Nov. 24, " This day is published, The
Second Edition with some additional notes and epigrams," etc. etc., as
above. See also Wilford's 'Monthly Chronicle' for November, 1729,

254

'THE DUNCIAD' OF 1729

as immediately to appear. The publication, however,
was delayed for two months. Late in October Theobald
wrote to Warburton that a new edition of ' The Dunciad '
had been threatened for some weeks. The sword, he
added, had been suspended, and had not yet fallen.1
It was not till the end of November that the revised
work made its appearance. This is the edition of
which Pope wrote to Swift that it was "the second,
as it is called, but indeed the eighth edition of 'The
Dunciad,' with some additional notes and epigrams." 2

This new volume of 1729 contained in its commen-
tary a quantity of additional matter. Among the notes
was inserted an epigram to the effect that it was gen-
erous in Theobald to help people read the works of
others. For so doing he could never hope for an ade-
quate return ; for his own works nobody could be ex-
pected to help others to read. With the exception
of this and of a false variation of a previous false
statement, there was no further reference to the hero
of the satire. The attacks fell upon others, — Ward,
Welsted, Moore-Smythe, Roome, Burnet, Duckett —
against whom Pope entertained sentiments of hostility.
These took largely the form of epigrams. In later
editions slight alterations were made both in the text
and the notes; but until the recast of 1743 the poet
clearly regarded this so-called second edition as 4 The
Dunciad ' in its final form. A statement to that effect
may be said to have been implied in the declaration

in which 'The Dunciad,' second edition, is the fifty-sixth of sixty-four
entries.

1 Letter of Oct. 25, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 248.

2 rope to Swift, letter of Nov. 28, 1729, Pope's ' Works,' vol. vii. p. 172.

255

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

purporting to have been made by the author before
the mayor of London on the third of January, 1732,
which was appended to the later editions. This as-
serted that the poem, in the authentic form here given,
contained u the entire sum of one thousand and twelve
lines." It strictly enjoined and forbade any person or
persons to change directly or indirectly any word, fig-
ure, point, or comma in it as now found.

The object of producing this declaration was to in-
dulge in a further sneer at Theobald, whose edition of
Shakespeare was then well known to be in preparation,
and in fact was expected to appear at any time. The
animus could be easily detected in its very opening.
In this the reason given for its introduction was that
" certain haberdashers of points and particles, being in-
stigated by the spirit of pride, and assuming to them-
selves the name of Critics and Restorers, have taken
upon them to adulterate the common and Current sense
of our glorious ancestors, poets of this realm ; by clip-
ping, coining, defacing the images, or mixing their
own base allay, or otherwise falsifying the same, which
they publish, utter, and vend as genuine." Regret was
further expressed that the poet's great predecessor had
not adopted the practice here set " as a remedy and
prevention of all such abuses." It is a matter of no
consequence in itself, but it is a striking illustration
of the carelessness which Pope had more than once
manifested in his edition of Shakespeare that his own
numbering of the lines of 'The Dunciad,' which were
to be regarded as authentic, was not true of any edi-
tion of it ever published. He gave it as ten hundred and

256

< THE DUN C IAD' OF 1729

twelve. The editions of 1728 consisted of nine hun-
dred and twenty lines, the three earlier editions of
1729 of ten hundred and fourteen, and the so-called
second edition of the same year, followedby the later
ones, of ten hundred and eighteen.

17 257

CHAPTER XIV

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD '

For more than half a century scholars have devoted
time and labor to clearing np the difficulties connected
with the original publication of * The Dunciad.' Their
efforts have been crowned with substantial success.
The problems they were called upon to solve had long
been the puzzle of bibliographers. They were made
hard to elucidate by the elaborate system of falsification
of statement and mystification of fact which attended
the work from the outset. The effort to mislead was
never indeed abandoned entirely. It was the source of
numerous slight variations in the early editions, for the
existence of which no pretext can be found save the in-
tention to obscure and perplex. The bibliographical
statements which are true in general of the copies of any
impression are subject to exception in the case of partic-
ular copies belonging to it.

This bibliographical obscurity, however, once envel-
oping the original 'Dunciad' has now been pretty
effectually dispelled. But there still remain misappre-
hensions of a totally different kind. The legendary past
has handed down nothing more mythical than some of
the beliefs which have grown up about this satire.
They continue to find expression in the lives of the

258

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD'

poet and in works dealing with the literature of the
period. Statements are regularly made concerning * The
Dunciad ' which, even if they have become true now, were
not true at the time of its appearance. Some of them,
however widely circulated and constantly repeated, have
never been true at any time. Yet they have been
and are so universally accepted that to doubt or deny
them will seem to many as being of the nature of a blow
aimed at the foundations of all accredited literary history.
No small number of these false assertions are connected
with Theobald and his edition of Shakespeare. But the
utter untrustworthiness of the representations made
about him cannot be fully comprehended until certain
general statements in regard to 4 The Dunciad ' have been
disposed of which have had wide vogue for a century
and a half. They are three in number. One of them
indeed has been of late years largely abandoned as a re-
sult of the better knowledge which modern times have
gained of Pope and his practices. But the two others
still continue to flourish with all their original vitality.

The first of these is the assertion that the men whom
Pope chose to stigmatize as dunces were really dunces.
This is a view of them which cannot well be taken save
by those who look upon the vast majority of mankind as
properly entitled to that designation. There may be
justification for this wholesale view ; but it is attended
with the disagreeable adjunct that it involves including
the person accepting it in any impartial definition of the
word. The truth is that nearly all the writers satirized
in 'The Dunciad' had either distinguished themselves
Or were to distinguish themselves in some particular

259

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

field of intellectual effort. The position they held in
the eyes of the public furnishes presumptive proof that
they were not dunces. In most instances they were far
from being great in any sense ; but they had talents of
a certain kind. They may have written very indifferent
poetry. But they did something in some way sulli-
ciently out of the common to attract the attention of
readers and hearers. Men have largely forgotten who
and what these writers were, just as the men of future
times will forget writers who, however eminent in our
own day, have not ability sufficient to raise them to the
highest rank. Merit may make an author more or less
conspicuous in his own generation, or accident may
make him notorious ; but it requires genius to transmit
his name to posterity as an active vital force.

It is the names only of the contemporaries of Pope
living at the time of the appearance of ' The Dunciad '
which concern us here. Nor does there come into the
discussion any consideration of their character. It is
with their ability, not with their morals, that we have to
deal. Some of them may have been justly liable to all the
charges brought against them by Pope and his partisans ;
but that fact, if true, does not prove them to be dunces.
Theophilus Cibber, for instance, seems to have been a
man whose character was almost as contemptible as that
of Pope's jackal, Savage ; still he was very far from
being a fool. But leaving out of consideration for the
present men little known now, it is not likely that any
one will venture to advertise himself as a dunce by giv-
ing that appellation to Defoe. Pope himself, though he
had no real appreciation of that author's genius and

260

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD'

never ceased from making him an object of attack, had
still occasional glimpses of the absurdity of so designat-
ing him. In the addition to a note upon him which ap-
peared first in the Gilliver octavo of 1729 1 he relented
so far as to remark that Daniel Defoe "had parts." Yet
even this seems to have been added to make more effec-
tive the attack upon his son Norton, of whom he said
that he had no parts at all.

To defend Defoe from the charge of being a dunce
would be an insult to eArery reader's intelligence. But
who that is familiar with English literature would apply
that term to Ambrose Philips ? Him, during the whole
of his later career, Pope pursued with unrelenting viru-
lence. Yet Philips was a man of high character, and of
talents much more than respectable. The places he
held could not have been filled by an incompetent man,
nor could the pieces he produced have been written by
a dull one. Again, Dennis the critic was in his way as
foul-mouthed as Pope himself in his treatment of those
with whom he engaged in controversy, though he lacked
entirely the poet's power of pointed expression. Yet,
with all his coarseness of abuse, his habit of virulent
vituperation, he was not only possessed of much learn-
ing, but exhibited in many ways keen critical insight.
It was not for nothing that he was regarded by so many
of his contemporaries as the master-critic of his age, and
that with all Pope's dislike of him there was mingled in
liis mind a certain dread.

Or take the eccentric, not to say half-crazy, Eustace
Budgell. A man who was permitted by Steele and

1 Book 1, line loi ; modem editions, line 103.
261

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Addison to be their associate, who contributed to ' The
Spectator ' numerous essays, may have been wanting in
many important qualities, but he cannot well be reck-
oned a fool. Upon him, indeed, has fallen the ill-for-
tune which attended so many whom Pope looked upon
as his foes. The poet's views about his contemporaries
were largely adopted by Dr. Johnson, the critical auto-
crat of the following generation. In his lives of the
poets, he gave wide circulation and permanent accep-
tance to derogatory stories which in some cases hardly
rose to the dignity of gossip. For illustration, Budgell
wrote the epilogue to Ambrose Philips's play of 4 The
Distrest Mother,' founded upon the Andromaque of
Racine. It was very successful ; in fact, it is said to be
the most successful piece of the kind ever recited on the
English stage. For this, and apparently for no other
reason, efforts have been put forth to deprive the author
of the reputation, such as it is, of having written it.
Budgell was Addison's cousin ; therefore Addison wras
the real composer of the piece. Johnson tells us that
Garrick told him that it was known to the Tonsons that
Addison was the writer, and had substituted at the last
moment his cousin's name for his own in order that the
interests of the former might be advanced. This pre-
cious piece of second-hand gossip, has since been reg-
ularly repeated. Not the slightest respect need be paid
to it. The epilogue is not in the least a remarkable
production. There is nothing in it Budgell could not
easily have written ; there are things in it Addison
would not have written.

We need not linger over a name like that of the anti-
262

ERRORS ABOUT ' THE DUNCIADy ■

quary Hearne, towards whom Pope's attitude was not
one of hostility, but of amused contempt. Let us con-
sider the case of men, known now only to special stu-
dents of the period, who, in some instances, were made
the object of his bitterest attacks. Nearly all of them
achieved in their own time a degree of success which
raised them above the rank and file of their contempo-
raries. Welsted, though lacking the saving grace of
genius, was no mean adept in the production of the sort
of poetry, then most in vogue. Some of his verses were
sufficiently pointed to cut Pope to the quick. Cooke
was a classical scholar, whose translations of Hesiod and
of Terence were long held in highest repute, and even
to this day are spoken of with respect. Ward's pages
are still read by the curious for the pictures they drew
of London life. Or take the popular lecturer who went
under the name of Orator Henley. He reviled Pope in
his discourses and was reviled by him in his poems.
Yet, a preacher who, for more than a quarter of a cen-
tury could maintain a chapel by the voluntary contribu-
tions of attendants, who during that long period could
continue to draw audiences to listen to him twice a
week, — such a man may have been guilty of many dis-
creditable devices, he may have resorted to every trick
characteristic of the charlatan, but he clearly must have
been possessed of abilities of a certain sort.

Even more marked is the case of Ralph. He was
possibly, and perhaps probably, not a person of the high-
est (-liaracter. He may have sold his services to oppos-
ing leaders and opposing parties. Such a fact — if it
be a fact — will put him in the class of rogues; but it

208

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

removes him at once from the class of dunces. Nor,
indeed, is it likely that he was a dunce whom Benjamin
Franklin for a long time regarded as a friend, and to
whom he dedicated one of his works. Nor, again, is he
likely to have been a dunce whom Fielding joined with
him in a journalistic enterprise, and whom Hallam de-
scribes as u the most diligent historian we possess of the
time of Charles II." Or take the case of dramatists.
Charles Johnson was in his own age a generally success-
ful playwright. He was charged by his enemies with
having taken from other authors most of what he put
forward as his own, and of then having forgotten to ac-
knowledge his indebtedness. If true, this course of con-
duct implies rascality, and not imbecility. He stole, and
succeeded ; other men stole as much as he and did not
succeed.

A statement not essentially different can be made
about the ability of the party-writers of the day. By
those who have carefully refrained from reading a line
they ever wrote they have been denounced as peculiarly
stupid and utterly malignant. He who is willing to
take the pains to render himself even slightly familiar
with their articles recognizes at once the falsity of this
view. Their work was no better and no worse than
what was done before and after them. It was no better
and no worse than most of that which is done to-day.
The fate which has befallen it is the precise fate that is
destined to overtake all editorial production which con-
cerns itself with matters that have merely the vitality of
the passing moment. What is written may be excel-
lent; it is sometimes brilliant; but it cannot endure,

264

ERRORS ABOUT ' THE DUNC1AD*

because it concerns itself only with the changing ques-
tions of the hour. The instant these cease to exist,
they drag to death everything concerned with them.
Did not Swift and Addison live for us by their other
works, their political articles would have been as gener-
ally forgotten as have those of the feeblest of their suc-
cessors. No one reads now these productions of theirs
for enjoyment. No one thinks of consulting them, save
those who are making a special study of the political
history of that period. Such is the fate of all party-
writing. The themes which once stirred the heart of
the writer are dead to the later reader beyond all hope
of resurrection. As we no longer care for them in the
slightest, we naturally care not for what is said about
them. What is written is to us, therefore, necessarily
dull. But it is not necessarily dull in itself. Still less
was it dull to the men of the time whose convictions it
expressed and to whose passions it appealed. None of
the journalists of that day were great men ; but several
were distinctly able men.

One of these writers whom Pope hated with peculiar
hatred was Concanen. For the feeling he displayed he
may be conceded to have had a certain justification ; for
in this instance he seems not to have been the aggressor.
Concanen was an Irishman by birth, a lawyer by pro-
fession, who took to literature by choice. As a poet his
production was thoroughly commonplace; as a journalist,
so far as he devoted himself to that occupation, he was
both able and effective. Theobald's criticism of Pope's
Shakespeare had excited his admiration, [tied him to
express of it a high opinion before lie knew personally

205

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

its author. Acquaintance tended to increase the fa-
vorable estimate which he had already formed of the
commentator's powers. This naturally would not rec-
ommend him to Pope; but he drew upon himself the
poet's bitter resentment by a review he wrote of the
1 Miscellanies.' We must keep in mind that in those days
'Miscellany' was the title regularly given to collections
of hitherto imprinted or little known pieces by various
authors. Consequently, when the first two volumes
of Pope and Swift's appeared, buyers felt themselves
tricked at receiving something which they discovered
they already had in their possession. A certain resent-
ment was entertained, as if an imposition had been prac-
tised upon the public.

To this feeling Concanen, in his article, gave very de-
cided expression. He reviewed the ' Miscellanies ' with
a severity which amounted almost to acrimony.1 He
remarked that when he found that the greatest part of
the pieces thus published already existed in an octavo
volume, and that the rest were very common either in
single pamphlets or in old collections, lie began to fancy
that the work was merely a bookseller's fraud upon the
public. Such an imputation was of itself offensive
enough. But what followed was especially calculated
to irritate the poet. Concanen went on to say that he
was filled with surprise at finding the preface signed by
the great names of Swift and Pope. The former he
knew to be very careless about prefixing his name to
such of his works as he published himself. He could
not therefore understand the motive which had induced

1 Letter in the • British Journal,' No. 270, Nov. 25, 1727.
2G6

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD1

him to join the other in putting out a collection of second-
hand wares. At this point followed a remark which,
while undoubtedly representing a belief then widely
prevalent, ought never to have been made of an author
so eminent unless based on positive proof. He had
heard, he said, that Pope had been often concerned in
such kinds of jobs and had hired out his name to stand
sentinel before the inventions of booksellers. It is no
wonder that the poet resented this imputation upon his
character. He was irritated beyond measure, and he
furnished ample proof of it in • The Grub-street Jour-
nal,' 1 — especially so when, a few years after, Concanen
was made attorney-general for Jamaica. This was a
post, it may be added, which he filled with great credit
to himself and with great satisfaction to the inhabitants
of the island.

Concanen's name had not been introduced into the
treatise on the Bathos ; but his after-acts necessarily
caused it to be inserted in • The Dunciad.' According
to Pope he was the author of a preface to the collection
of verses and essays which had been occasioned b}^ the
publication of the third volume of the • Miscellanies/
This was addressed to the then unknown author of 'The
Dunciad.' It was a severe and able criticism of the
spirit with which that satire had been written, though
the usual mistake was made of not giving recognition to
the ability which had been displayed in its creation and
execution. He was also represented by Pope as being

1 S.n 'Grub-Street Journal/ No. 32, Aug. 18, 1730; No. 35, Sept. 3,
1730; No. 38, Sept. 24, 1730; and No. 188, Aug. 24, 1732. Most if not
all of these articles wen- pretty certainly written \>y Tope himself

267

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the author of a treatise which appeared in August, 1728,
entitled 'A Supplement to the Profund.' This was
largely given up to examples of this so-called ' profund '
drawn from the writings of Pope and Swift, especially
the former. It is an illustration of the readiness of men
to accept the derogatory estimate the poet expressed of
his adversaries that Warton tells us that this work dis-
plays so much ability that it is likely Concanen had in
its preparation the aid of Warburton, with whom he
was at that time on terms of peculiar intimacy.1 This
observation is in the true style of eighteenth-century
criticism. A conclusion is first reached on general
principles as to just how able a man must be. Then,
when something presents itself exhibiting superiority to
this assumed conception of his talents, its existence is
accounted for by surmising, and sometimes stating as a
fact, that in composing it he had received aid from some
one else. The suspicion in this case has not even the
merit of plausibility. The particular treatise here re-
ferred to was one which men inferior to Concanen could
well have produced. Much of it is verbal criticism.
Though occasionally good, it exhibits all the defects of
verbal criticism, the petty cavilling at constructions and
words which the censurer does not understand or does
not like.

Furthermore, the charge that the men satirized in
' The Dunciad ' were really dunces becomes particu-
larly absurd the moment we turn our attention away
from literature proper. No small number of those
whose names appear in this poem had attained prom-

1 Warton's Pope, vol. vi. p. 237.

268

ERRORS ABOUT < THE DUNCIAD'

inence in occupations in which dulness may be con-
sidered an absolute barrier to success. This is true
in particular of those who were engaged in the prac-
tice of law. Not even under the most corrupt govern-
ments are inferior men placed in posts of responsibility
where acumen and legal knowledge are required. Yet
if we are to accept Pope's testimony, this was largely
the custom under Walpole. Concanen has already been
mentioned. Both Ilorneck and Roome were solicitors
of the treasury. The latter was a friend of Warburton.
" I am at this moment," wrote to him Theobald in De-
cember, 1729, " alarmed with the death of our common
acquaintance and favorite, poor Mr. Roome." * Popple
was solicitor and clerk of the reports to the commission-
ers of trade and plantations. In 1745 he was made gov-
ernor of the Bermudas and occupied that position through
all changes of administration till just before his death in
1764. Burnet, if a dunce, was one of that class of dunces
whom for time immemorial the English government has
been in the habit of raising to the bench. In 1741 he
was made judge of the court of common pleas and
attained wide reputation for the learning he possessed
and the ability he displayed.

It may be said that these men were not attacked as
lawyers, but as authors. But assuming — what in some
instances cannot be assumed safely — that they failed in
literature, that failure does not make them dunces any
more than Pope's failure as an editor consigns him to
such a class. But even this sort of pretext will be of
no avail in the case of certain writers who appear in

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 326.

269

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

4 The Dunciad ' on account of their theological views.
There is nothing more noticeable in the literary history
of the eighteenth century than the zeal for orthodoxy
manifested by its men of letters. They might lead the
loosest of lives ; they might be guilty of the most dis-
creditable practices ; they might be spendthrifts, drunk-
ards, libertines, liars, hypocrites ; but they could always
plead in their own behalf that they were perfectly sound
in the faith. They were shocked and indignant if any
one put forth views which were not of the regulation
pattern. Pope fully shared in this prevalent feeling of
the men of his class. Toland and Tindal were held up
to reprobation in all editions of ' The Dunciad.' Collins
appeared too in the original edition of 1728, but for some
reason was dropped later with a complimentary note.

Woolston, however, was the one who fell under special
condemnation. For putting upon Scripture an allegori-
cal interpretation he had drawn down upon himself much
clerical censure. But when, in 1726, his work on mira-
cles came out, all the orthodox element in the realm was
disturbed. The views expressed in it attracted to him
the active attention of the government. To correct the
error of his ways it shut him up in prison for the rest
of his life. Pope joined with great fervor in the general
outcry. In a note to the quarto edition of 1729, Wool-
ston was designated as "an impious madman." 1 By the
time the Gilliver octavo appeared, the poet's religious zeal
had distinctly increased. The pile of books in the owl
frontispiece had originally had at its summit Blackmore's
epic of * Arthur.' For this was then substituted a volume

1 Book 3, line 208 ; in modern editions, line 212.

270

ERRORS ABOUT < THE DUNCIAD1

entitled ' Giklon and Woolston against Christ.' It is
hardly necessary to remark that whatever may be thought
of the opinions of the rationalistic writers of the eigh-
teenth century no one, unless he combined the qualities
of a fool with those of a bigot, would venture to main-
tain that they were dunces. Nor will any one who has
interest enough in the subject itself to read their works
pretend that they are dull.

That some of the men satirized in 4 The Dunciad '
were possessed of only ordinary abilities is unquestion-
able. It is equally true that but very few of them were
possessed of extraordinary abilities. But if they are to
be deemed dunces because they entertained or were sup-
posed to entertain towards Pope feelings of hostility, this
exact term can with as much justice be applied to those
who ranged themselves under his banner. The same for-
getfulness which has overtaken the writers he attacked
lias overtaken the writers he patronized and praised and
befriended. Who reads now the poetry of Bramston, of
James Miller, of Paul Whitehead, or even that of Mallet,
all of whom came forward on his side in the course of
his controversies? No dullest opponent of Pope ever
produced anything more aggressively dull than the po-
etical ' Essay upon Satire ' which Walter Ilarte wrote
in his defence. These were men whose works lie held
up to honor. Had they been on the other side they
would have held a prominent place in the roll of those
he delighted to call dunces.

No flimsier structure lias ever been built upon more
insecure foundations than the belief in the Special intel-
lectual Inferiority of the men attacked in 'The Dunciad.'

271

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Upon an equally insecure basis rests another widely
accepted belief. We are told on every hand that the
publication of this satire practically resulted in the
annihilation of the authors whose names appeared in it.
This belief seems to be fully accepted by most, if not
indeed by all, literary historians. They have this excuse
for the credulity they manifest, that it had its birth at
an early date and was assiduously nursed by the parti-
sans of the poet. He had not been in his grave eight
years before it was proclaimed by an authority presum-
ably so impartial as Fielding. In one of the novelist's
essays a brief history was given of the commonwealth
of letters in England. Dryden was represented as hav-
ing for a long time ruled. To him had succeeded
King Alexander, surnamed Pope. " He is said," wrote
Fielding, " to have been extremely jealous of the affec-
tions of his subjects, and to have employed various
spies, by whom if he was informed of the least sugges-
tion against his title, he never failed of branding the
accused person with the word dunce on his forehead in
broad letters ; after which the unhappy culprit was
obliged to lay by his pen for ever; for no bookseller
would venture to print a word that he wrote." 1
Fielding went on to say that without Pope's license
and approbation no person durst read anything which
was written.

These exaggerated statements are interesting, coming,
as they do, from a contemporary. They are much more
valuable, however, for the light they throw upon the
prevalent impression as to the poet's proceedings than

1 Covent Garden Journal, No. 23, March 21, 1752.

272

ERRORS ABOUT ' THE DUNCIAD'

from any revelation they make of the fate which befell
the authors he attacked. But the wide currency of the
belief in modern times is due to the statement made by
Dr. Johnson in his life of Pope. Johnson tells us that
Ralph unnecessarily interfered in the quarrel caused by
the satire and thereby got a place in the subsequent edi-
tions. The assertion is true. Its very truth shows that
dread of the poet was not so widespread as is now the
custom to report it as having been. But Johnson then
went on to say that Ralph complained that as a conse-
quence he was for a time in danger of starving, inas-
much as the booksellers had no longer any confidence
in his capacity. Where and when he made the com-
plaint we are not informed. It is not unlikely to have
come to Johnson's ears from his friend Savage, who in a
community where liars flourished luxuriantly seems to
be entitled to the distinction of having been the greatest
liar of all.

Whether the words ascribed to Ralph were ever
uttered or not, there is incontestable evidence that the
poem never had the slightest effect in restraining his
literary and political activity. For a long time follow-
ing the publication of 4 The Dunciad ' scarcely a twelve-
month went by in which he did not bring out a work of
some sort or engage in some journalistic enterprise.
The very year in which the enlarged edition of the
satire was published he struck a more serious blow at
his own literary reputation than it was in the power
of Pope to inflict. He produced a long and unspeak-
ably tedious poem in blank verse entitled 4 Zeuma ; or
the Love of Liberty.' Early in the year following, a
18 273

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

piece of his, styled * The Fortunate Lady ; or Harlequin
Opera,' was acted at the theater which had just been
started in Goodman's Fields, and met with a good deal
of success. In fact, for the remaining thirty years of
Ralph's life there was confidence enough in his capacity
to keep him all the while actively employed. It is
manifest that the complaint, if ever uttered at all —
which is more than doubtful — was due to an outbreak
of some temporary mood of depression. Even were we
to concede that it was made in all seriousness and sin-
cerity, it would be an unwarranted inference to assume
that it was typical. Yet mainly on the strength of it all
the other authors assailed have been described as living
in a constant state of anxiety for fear that neither pub-
lishers would bring out their works nor readers buy
them if published.

It would indeed be a matter of interest to ascertain
the names of some of the writers whose works were re-
fused publication in consequence of their having been
satirized in l The Dunciad.' There is not a single one
of them, who was in the vigor of his powers at the time,
that did not continue his literary labors after this poem
appeared, and several of them immediately after. Old-
mixon kept up the production of historical and party
writings to the time of his death in 1742. Ozell's life
had been largely devoted to translations, and to the end
of it, in 1743, he never ceased translating. Johnson's
plays were accepted as readily at Drury Lane after he
had been enrolled in ' The Dunciad ' as they had been
before. Nor was the attitude of the public towards
them influenced at all by this fact, though on one occa-

274

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD'

sion he tried hard to solace himself with the belief that
the hostile reception one of his plays met was dne to the
influence of Pope.1 Even a more signal illustration of
the powerlessness of this attack upon the immediate for-
tunes of those assailed is seen in the case of Mrs. Hay-
wood. In his personal onslaughts upon women, Pope
was one of the most brutal of men. As early as this
poem of 'The Dunciad' he had manifested his hostility
to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu by insinuations and
reflections upon her character and acts, though he did not
venture to insert her name in the Index of Persons.
But the attack upon Mrs. Haywood exceeded all bounds
of decency. To the credit of the English race nothing so
dastardly and vulgar can be found elsewhere in English
literature. If the influence of * The Dunciad ' was so
all-powerful as to ruin the prospects of any one it
satirized, it ought certainly to have crushed her be-
yond the hope of any revival. As a matter of fact
Mrs. Haywood's most successful and popular writings
were produced after the publication of that poem,
and that too at a period when Pope's predominance
was far higher than it was at the time the satire itself
appeared.

The case of Cooke, usually termed Hesiod Cooke, has
been singled out as a typical example of the terror in-
spired by Pope's work. Certainly if such dread existed,
his is the only conduct which can be cited as famishing
direct evidence of its prevalence. For that reason it is
worth while to give an account of it in detail. 'The
Dunciad' in its original form belongs, as we have
i Preface to ' Medaa,1 1731.

^75

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

seen, to May, 1728. In it there was the following

line,

" C shall be Prior and C n Swift."

Cooke was about the only author whose name, beginning
with an initial C, would suit the measure. While it
could not be definitely asserted that he was the person
intended, no one acquainted with the minor poets of the
time would have been likely to hit upon any one else.
The * Key to The D unclad,' which speedily followed,
settled the question for those who were ignorant.
Cooke's offence had not been a very flagrant one. In
1725 when he had but little more than reached his ma-
jority he had published anonymously what he termed an
heroic poem. It was in two cantos and was entitled
' The Battle of the Poets.' In it Pope was spoken of, in
general, in high terms. He was represented as leader of
one of the two opposing armies. Under him were
ranged several of the most noted authors of the day,
Fenton, Young, Gay, Aaron Hill, Tickell, Savage, and
singularly enough, Colley Cibber.

In spite of this tribute to his position, much that was
said in the poem was necessarily distasteful and displeas-
ing to Pope. It put on an equality with him Welsted,
whom he detested. It represented Ambrose Philips as
carrying off in triumph the laurel crown, and as now
reigning upon earth as the great Apollo. Further, there
were two places specially calculated to arouse resent-
ment in a man of the poet's sensitive nature. In one
line it had been said that great as were Pope's -merits,
they were not so great as his reputation.1 There was

1 " In merit great, but greater far in fame," p. 78 (ed. of 1725).

276

ERRORS ABOUT < THE DUNCIAD*

another passage whieli was even more offensive. Dennis,
"the modern author's dread," was described as ranging
round the field for spoil. In so doing he encountered
Pope. As this poem came out just after the appearance
of the edition of Shakespeare, we can get from the lines
which follow some conception of the impression produced
by the way that task had been executed before Theo-
bald's exposure of its defects had been published. It is
in these words that the poet is addressed by the redoubt-
able critic :

"Next to their mighty chief he turned his eye,
By whom he saw the deathless Grecian lie;
And Shakespeare stood, stupendous ruins, by.
Oh ! mercenary bard, the critic cried,
For lesser faults than these have thousands died;
Too dire an instance of what gold can do,
That thy own countryman must suffer too !
Too weighty are thy crimes for me to bear,
He spoke and left the guilty volumes there." 1

Any praise, therefore, that in this poem had been accorded
to Pope was much more than offset by the unpardonable
offence of speaking in high terms of Welsted and of
leaving Ambrose Philips master of the field. Worse
than all was the reflection upon his character implied in
the words given to Dennis. Cooke knew perfectly well
that he was the one intended in the line just cited from
' The Dunciad.' Furthermore, news reached him that he
was regarded by Pope as the author of several attacks
which had appeared in the newspapers. This he wrote
to deny. He naturally recognized the undesirability of
being selected for satire by the most popular poet of the

1 Battle of the Poets, ed. of 1725, p. 15.

277

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

age. Especially would he feel that he had a right to
remonstrate, if he were assailed for writing articles with
which he had had nothing to do. There may have been
disingenuousness in Cooke's proceedings. He may have
actually been concerned in some of the pieces which he
was suspected by Pope of having composed. But whether
he equivocated or lied is beside the present question.
There appears nowhere in his letters any sign or indica-
tion of that abject terror with which he has been regu-
larly credited.

Cooke's course indeed was precisely such as any fear-
less man of the present day would follow in addressing
an author of highest eminence who, he discovered, had
been suspecting him unjustly. He took occasion to
disavow the sentiments expressed in 4 The Battle of the
Poets ' — a poem of which he declared he was sincerely
ashamed. There seems little doubt that he had come
to look upon it not only as a boyish performance, but
as one not very creditable to his judgment even as a
boy, which it assuredly was not. There is accordingly
no reason to question the sincerity of his declaration
that he intended, not to modify it, but to leave it out
entirely of the collection of his pieces in prose and verse
which he was on the point of publishing. Undoubtedly
Cooke would have been glad to be in Pope's good
graces. But neither in this nor in the subsequent letter
did he say anything unmanly. He deprecated attack
upon himself, but he did not disown his friendship
with men whom the poet looked upon with special dis-
like. On the contrary, he admitted that he associated
with several who had written against Pope. For some

278

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD'

of them, he said, he had real respect ; for others as
sovereign a contempt as had the man he was addressing.
But in the former class he included James Moore. For
him he expressed high esteem. Had he been particu-
larly solicitous to avert attack from himself, he must
have been well aware that he could hardly have taken a
poorer method of ingratiating himself with the poet than
by the expression of such a sentiment.

We know that Pope, after some hesitation, decided to
disbelieve Cooke's assertion. Accordingly in the quarto
edition of 1729 his name appeared in full with a note
further attacking him.1 This, so far from annihilating
Cooke, merely made him angry. He certainly did not
sit down quietly under it. He had doubtless become
aware of Pope's determination before it manifested itself
in act. His new volume followed hard upon the appear-
ance of the quarto edition of the satire. Instead of
carrying out his previous intention of suppressing ' The
Battle of the Poets,' he rewrote it, largely changing its
character. In the revised version Pope was assailed
with great virulence, both in the piece itself and in the
preface to it. He was taunted with secretly flinging
dirt at both friend and foe, and with the mercenary
motives by which he had been influenced in his literary
labors.2 It is evident that Cooke's publisher had not

1 Book 2, 1. 130; in modem editions, 1. 138.

2 " Who better knows than I his dust to throw ?

To wound in secret either friend or foe 1

A genius formed like mine will soar at all,
And boldly follow where subscriptions call;
My gentle touch from Homer cleared the rust;
And from the brow of Shakespear wiped the dust.

279

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

been dissuaded from bringing out his work, and that
Cooke personally did not consider himself crushed.

Pope was stung by this renewed attack. In the
second edition of 1729 he gave proof of his resentment
at this contumacy. To his previous note charging
Cooke with openly assailing him in several journals, he
added that at the very time he was doing so, " the
honest gentleman sent letters to Mr. P. in the strong-
est terms protesting his innocence." 1 But Cooke, like
Pharaoh of old, hardened his heart. In the edition of
his poems which appeared in 1742, when Pope's suprem-
acy was undisputed, he reiterated all his previous opin-
ions and charges. The same contumacious course had
previously been taken by Concanen. Pope had stigma-
tized him as the author of several scurrilities in the
British and London Journals.2 These contributions of
his to those periodicals he reprinted in 'The Speculatist.'
He did not do it, he said in his advertisement, " from
any opinion of their excellence, but to refute the cal-
umny of a rancorous and foul-mouthed railer, who has
asserted in print that the author of them wrote several
scurrilities in those papers."

The truth is that the men whom Pope satirized were
so far from being silenced that for no short time they
were louder and more obstreperous than ever. This
fact will come out very distinctly in the detailed story
of the Shakespeare controversy. At no period in his
career, indeed, were his assailants more active and

1 Dunciad of 1729, 2d edition, Book 2, 1. 130; in modern editions,
line 138.

2 Quarto, 1729, Book 2, 1. 130; in modern editions, note to line 299 of
Book 2.

280

ERRORS ABOUT < THE DUNCIAD'

defiant, and in one sense more successful, than during
the three or four years following the publication of
4 The Dunciad.' They had no hesitation in returning
railing for railing and abuse for abuse. Everything
that was discreditable in Pope's career was sedulously
raked up from the obscurity into which it had fallen by
lapse of time, and was paraded afresh before the public.
Every tiling that was doubtful had put upon it the
worst possible construction. The mere recital of the
works which came out in 1728 subsequent to the pub-
lication of ' The Dunciad ' more than exhibits the
absurdity of the statement that that satire crushed his
opponents : the spirit displayed in them is as defiant and
uncompromising as if he were the most contemptible of
adversaries.

The epigrams and articles with wThich the newspaper
press abounded may be neglected. Some of these
indeed wrounded Pope exceedingly; for they dwelt, at
times with wit as well as bitterness, upon his personal
deformities. Nor need we consider certain petty pieces
which appeared without name and were too drearily
stupid to excite apparently even the poet's natural
curiosity as to their possible authorship. Furthermore,
let us disregard the volumes containing several pieces,
all of them designed to hold him up to contempt, such
as ' The Popiad ' which appeared in July, and 4 The
Female Dunciad' which followed the month after.
These latter were essentially miscellanies devoted to
attacks upon the poet, and for them authors were not so
much responsible as publishers. Here we may confine
our attention to the replies of that year whose author-

281

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

ship was- openly avowed or was speedily ascertained.
The appearance of ' The Dunciad ' in May was followed
by the ' Sawney ' of Ralph in June ; in July by ' Remarks
on the Rape of the Lock ' by Dennis, which, written long
before, had been withheld from publication; further, in
the same month by * The Metamorphosis ' of Dean
Smedley, showing the change of Scriblerus into Snarl-
erus ; in August, by this last writer's ' Alexandriana,' in
which he appended an attack upon Pope to an attack
upon Swift, and by 'A Supplement to the Profund,'
which was attributed by the poet to Concanen ; and in
December by the ' Durgen ' of Ward. Some of these were
wretched productions ; others were sufficiently vituper-
ative to have a certain interest; but none of their
writers had been awed by the prospect of annihilation,
and there was clearly no difficulty in securing the pub-
lication of the poorest of them.

As a matter of fact, the assumed havoc wrought by
Pope with the repute of contemporary writers is en-
tirely the creation of literary history. It has arisen from
attributing to the period of the appearance of ' The Dun-
ciad ' the feelings and beliefs which came to prevail much
later. At the time itself his satire did not affect materi-
ally their prospects or fortunes. There is no question
that a large and powerful body of the public sympa-
thized at the outset with the men he had assailed, and
applauded the bitterest abuse heaped by them in return
upon the poet. In this class too, were included some
who were genuine admirers of his works, though not of
his conduct. While they might be delighted with the
keenness and wit of his satire, they were not favorably

282

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD'

impressed with his spirit. Unquestionably, Pope had
not only a large but a steadily increasing body of parti-
sans who were disposed to accept with unswerving loy-
alty his favorable or unfavorable estimate of those of
whom he spoke. But there was also a body of men
who for various reasons had a poor opinion of the
poet, and disliked and distrusted him. Nor were they
by any means limited in number or in influence. Pope
himself, while not disposed to underrate the dread he
inspired, was conscious of the futility of his efforts
against those for whom he had the extremest aversion.
" Whom have I hurt ? " he said in a later production :

" Has poet yet or peer
Lost the arched eyebrow or Parnassian sneer?"

In fact, the epithet of "dunce" was flung about with
too much recklessness during the eighteenth century to
carry much weight with the general public. The term
was employed by every writer to designate every other
writer who for any reason had not found favor in his
eyes. Fielding had the good fortune to escape the ap-
pellation from Pope ; but this did not save him from
being at one time joined by Swift with the men whom
his friend had satirized in 4 The Dunciad.'

There lingers still, though it no longer flourishes, a
third myth connected with ' The Dunciad.' It was once
widely, almost universally believed ; but fuller knowl-
edge of the poet and his times lias bedn attended witli
consequent loss of faith. Yet though shorn of its an-
cient vitality, it colors to some extent the expression of
the views, if not the views themselves, of those who af-
fect to reject it. The myth concerns the origin of ' The

283

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Dunciad.' Its own origin is due to Pope himself. With
a confidence in the gullibility of mankind which has
been amply justified, he was considerate enough to
formulate for the benefit of his fellow-countrymen a
theory to account for the creation of his satire. It
represented him as having been led by the noblest
motives to engage in the preparation of the work.
It was from a desire to free society from the ravages
of abusive and scurrilous scribblers who, relying for
impunity upon their own obscurity and insignificance,
had been in the habit of aspersing all the great charac-
ters of the age.

This theory first found its way to the light under the
sponsorship of Savage. The name of that convenient
tool was signed at the outset to the authorized account
of the origin of * The Dunciad.' Subsequently, Pope
reclaimed it and made it wholly his own by incorporat-
ing it into later editions of the satire in the shape of a
note to the original preface. There it followed the ac-
count he furnished of the clamor aroused by his inno-
cently putting down, in his treatise on ' The Bathos,'
capital letters almost at random, which, singularly enough,
happened to be the initials of certain authors. The abu-
sive falsehoods and scurrilities to which this accidental
coincidence gave rise suggested the action he had taken,
as well as afforded for it ample justification. * The Dun-
ciad,' according to this theory, owed its origin to the li-
cense of the press which had prevailed during the two
months — extended now to more than half a year — that
had elapsed since the publication of the third volume of
the ' Miscellanies.' " This gave Mr. Pope the thought,"

284

ERRORS ABOUT * THE DUNCIAD'

ran the account, " that he had now some opportunity of
doing good by detecting and dragging into light these
common enemies of mankind ; since to invalidate this
universal slander, it sufficed to show what contemptible
men were the authors of it. lie was not without hopes
that by manifesting the dulness of those who had only
malice to recommend them, either the booksellers would
not find their account in employing them, or the men
themselves, when discovered, want courage to proceed
in so unlawful an occupation. This it was that gave
birth to the Dunciad, and he thought it an happiness
that by the late flood of slander on himself he had ac-
quired such a peculiar right over their names as was
necessary to this design."1

Nobody who has read the account already given of
the circumstances under which the satire was origi-
nally published needs to be told that it required pecul-
iar impudence at that day to attempt to palm off upon
the public a falsehood so transparent, just as it would
require at the present day peculiar ignorance to regard
it as true. Still, though it did not impose upon the in-
telligent men of his own time, it came to impose upon
both the intelligent and unintelligent of later times.
His contemporaries recognized fully that it was nothing
bat Theobald's review of his edition of Shakespeare that
led Pope to complete the poem he had long been con-
templating, and to change the character of what had al-
ready been prepared. The poet's adversaries naturally
had no hesitation in proclaiming this view in the plain-

1 Appendix to undated duodecimo edition of 'The Duueiad' (1734),
p. 2.*J2.

285

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

est terms. They may have been often wrong in details ;
but their statements about the central motive can be
trusted. In Ralph's poem of 'Sawney,' Pope is repre-
sented as having been brought to the greatest distress
of mind on account of Theobald's criticism. Finally he
is encouraged and induced by Shameless — which is here
the designation of Swift — to revenge himself by making
its author the subject of a lampoon. " The hero of his
farce," wrote another, " was the man who had incurred
his vengeance by doing justice to poor Shakespeare over
him."

Pope himself furnished directly or indirectly the evi-
dence which shows conclusively that it was Theobald's
criticism of his edition of Shakespeare which occasioned
the production of ' The Dunciad.' He gave in his ap-
pendix a list of eighteen books in prose and verse in
which he had been abused before the publication of that
satire. They were the ostensible reasons for its compo-
sition. Of these eighteen three had come out after the
attacks he had made upon various authors in his treatise
on ' The Bathos ' ; and so far as they referred to him had
been occasioned by it. A fourth — the criticism of
Dennis on ' The Rape of the Lock ' — followed ' The
Dunciad,' and, though written many years before, would
doubtless never have been printed had it not been for
the appearance of that work. The latest date which can
be found for twelve of the remaining fourteen is 1717.
This interval of nearly a dozen years was sufficiently
long to have caused them to be forgotten by every one
but Pope himself. Not even a newspaper attack is
specified by him before the publication of the first two

286

ERRORS ABOUT < THE DUNCIAD1

volumes of 6 Miscellanies,' and but a single one before
the publication of the third. Of the books, there are
but two left upon which he could base any pretext for
his belated outburst of indignation. One was Cooke's
three-years-old poem entitled 4 The Battle of the Poets.'
The other was Mrs. Haywood's ' Memoirs of Lilliput,'
which did not refer to him personally but satirized the
political views of his friends.

The one work which Pope did not venture to include
in his list of attacks upon himself before the publication
of ( The D unci ad ' was the one work which caused that
satire to be written. That, however, he was shut out
from specifying. He could not pretend that Theobald's
criticism of his edition of Shakespeare partook of the
nature of a personal attack. There were in consequence
but two ways in which he could drag his name into the
collection of ' Testimonies of Authors ' who had assailed
him, which he prefixed to his satire as justification for
the retaliatory measures he had taken. Both of these he
employed, but for neither had he the slightest warrant.
He ascribed to Theobald passages from pieces which
there is no evidence whatever that he wrote, and almost
convincing evidence that he did not write. This Avas one
method ; the other was not much unlike. He garbled
what had actually been written and perverted its sense.

There is accordingly no escape from the conclusion
that * The Dunciad ' owed its existence to the revelation
which had been given of Pope's incapacity as an editor,
and to that alone. Had there been no such criticism,
the satire would either never have appeared at all, or if
it had appeared, it would have been of a character es-

287

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

sentially different. It would likely have corresponded
closely to what was implied by its first contemplated
title, * The Progress of Dulness.' This would have
harmonized with the line of thought found in the third
book. Constituted as Pope was, he could not and he
would not have refrained from introducing attacks upon
his enemies or supposed enemies ; but it was the bitter
feeling aroused by Theobald's criticism which converted
what would have been a general satire, with personal
reflections upon individuals, into a personal satire in
which the general subject of the progress of dulness
faded into the background.

The criticism of his edition of Shakespeare was not
the only offence of which Theobald had been guilty.
He was on friendly terms with men whom the poet dis-
liked and either despised or pretended to despise. In
his discussion of the text of Shakespeare he had spoken
in the highest terms of the knowledge of that author
possessed by Dennis. To James Moore-Smythe's play
of ' The Rival Modes ' lie had furnished a prologue.
To Cooke's translation of Hesiod he had contributed
notes. Such consorting with the men Pope deemed his
own assailants or enemies aggravated his main offence
and increased the poet's bitterness towards the offender.
Had he furnished no other pretext, it would have been
of itself a sufficient ground for enrolling him among the
objects of his satire, though not of constituting him its
hero. For Pope's ideas of vengeance extended not
merely to the men he detested, but to all who had with
them any friendly dealings. His conduct was modelled
upon the instructions given by Samuel to Saul as to the

288

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD1

course to bo followed with the Amalekites. Not only
was A gag to be slain, but all his people ; not only man
and woman, infant, and suckling, but ox and sheep and
camel and ass.

Theobald's connection with one of the men above-
mentioned furnishes a striking illustration of the way
in which Pope was in the habit of misrepresenting the
action of those he desired to injure. Misrepresentation
is, perhaps, too mild a word to characterize the course
he pursued. Cooke, in a postscript at the close of
his translation of Hesiod * expressed his gratitude to
Theobald, in particular, for the assistance he had ren-
dered. He had further said that whatever remarks he
had received from any of his friends, he had carefully
distinguished from his own "as a matter of justice to
those by whom he had been obliged." In accordance
with this practice he had in some instances pointed out
that certain notes or parts of certain notes were not his
own, but had been furnished him by Theobald. Pope
chose to represent this action as having been taken not
by Cooke himself, but by the man to whom Cooke had
professed obligation. He spoke of Theobald's contri-
bution to the version of Hesiod, " where," he said,
" sometimes a note and sometimes even half a note are
carefully owned by him." 2 It is acts of this sort that
account for the low estimation in which the poet was
held even by many among his contemporaries who rec-
ognized fully the greatness of his genius.

1 Cooke's Hesiod, vol. ii. p. 196.

2 Note to Book 1, line 1G8, quarto of 1729, and later. It is not found in
modern editions.

19 289

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

The reason for making Theobald the hero of his satire
was so well understood at the time that Pope himself
came speedily to have an uneasy consciousness that the
choice would react upon his own repute by calling re-
newed attention to the criticism his work as an editor
had sustained. It did not take him long to comprehend
that he was putting himself in an unfortunate position
by laying special stress upon the volume which had ex-
posed his shortcomings. In the very first edition of
' The Dunciad,' part of the opening line read as follows :

" Book and the man I sing."
The book was * Shakespeare Restored.' No sooner,
however, had the satire appeared than he recognized the
desirability of withdrawing from the notice of men the
real motive which had led him to make Theobald its
hero. This consideration involved consequently the
withdrawal from readers of the slightest incentive to
examine the volume which had roused his resentment.
Accordingly, in the next and all subsequent editions
1 Books ' took the place of ' Book.' Here modern bibliog-
raphy has obligingly come to Pope's aid, and assures
us that the very first word of the poem — the one
word which above all others would be certain never to
escape the notice of author, type-setter, proof-reader, and
reviser — is nothing but an error of the press which
passed unheeded and uncorrected by them all.

In truth, as time went on, Pope half apologized for
his action. As it would not have done to give the real
reason, he tried to explain the selection on various
grounds. All were pretty lame; but the world has
never cared enough about the matter to examine either

290

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNC1AD'

their justice or their sufficiency. On one occasion he
observed that Theobald was made the hero of the satire,
just as Eusden had been made poet-laureate, "because
there was no better to be had."1 As this was not alto-
gether satisfactory, he gave as another reason that his
critic had concealed his design of reviewing the edition
of Shakespeare, while at the very time soliciting from
him favors ; and then, it was implied, had joined in the
outcry raised against Pope that he had been concerned
with the publisher in the extravagant subscription which
had been demanded. " Probably," he went on to say,
" that proceeding elevated him to the dignity he holds
in this poem, which he seems to deserve no other
way better than his brethren ; unless we impute it to the
share he had in the journals cited among the testimonies
of authors prefixed to this work." 2

Pope, in truth, practically laid aside, in his notes and
in the appendix to the poem, any pretence that he was
actuated by any other than personal motives. It was
the attitude of men towards himself that dictated the
insertion or non-insertion of their names. The ability
or lack of ability they had displayed did not come into
the question at all. It requires biographic zeal of peculiar
magnitude and blindness to see in Pope's conduct as con-
trasted with his professions anything but the ebullition

1 Note to line 319 of Book 3, quarto of 1729 ; transferred to line 102
of Book 1, in the Gilliver octavo of 1729 and later editions. Not in
modern editions.

2 Note to line 106 of Book 1, quarto of 1729; same with additions —
especially ahout Theobald having been concerned in the outcry against Pope
■boat the Shakespeare subscription — in the Gilliver octavo of 1729 and
later editions. Not in modern editions.

291

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of private spite masking itself under the guise of public
virtue. Naturally he was occasionally misled. lie
sometimes mistook friends for enemies or attacked men
who had given him no cause of offence. The wanton-
ness indeed with which reputations were assailed is made
very marked by the fact that in the original edition of
his satire he enrolled in his list of dunces the hymn-
writer, Isaac Watts, and the rector of Epworth, Samuel
Wesley, the father of two far more famous sons. In the
complete edition which followed he had the grace to
withdraw these names with an apology for their inser-
tion ; but the fact that they appeared at all illustrates
the reckless spirit with which the composition of the
work was undertaken.

It must not be assumed that for writing 4 The Dun-
ciad ' Pope had not received provocation. During his
whole career, but especially during the earlier part of it,
he had been subjected to dull criticism, to malignant
criticism, and to criticism which was both malignant
and dull. Stupid men had not liked his brilliancy.
Envious men had been hurt by his success. He had
had to encounter not merely gross abuse, but the studied
depreciation which consists in half-hearted appreciation,
and which he himself has so happily characterized as
damning with faint praise. He had been subjected to
all that sort of perfunctory reviewing which is the reg-
ular resource of third-rate critics. If he did one thing,
it was suggested that he might better have done some-
thing else. Everything he had said had been said be-
fore, usually by some obscure person known only to the
critic himself. Any particular thing he fancied he had

292

ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD'

discovered or Lad for the first time clearly set forth, he
had been assured was well known to everybody, only
nobody had thought it worth while to communicate to
the public what was so generally accessible. In par-
ticular, a not uncommon charge against an author whose
meaning often suffered from conciseness was that he was
altogether too diffuse. Innumerable details could have
been spared to the great advantage of the piece. All
these cheap critical commonplaces so favored of the dull
or of those ignorant of the subject had been bestowed in
abundance upon Pope's early productions by men who
had taken them up with the determined resolution to be
dissatisfied, and if they could not find faults would create
out of their own imaginations faults which the poet had
missed making.

All this is true. But Pope's fortune in this respect
was no different from that of any man of genius, it may
almost be said of any man who has talents sufficient to
raise him much above his fellows. His lot was the com-
mon lot. Circumstances there were, to be sure, peculiar
to the age in which he lived. During most of his active
life two kings were on the throne who lacked the literary
sense as well as the moral. He personally came in con-
tact with men of wealth and position who sought to be
recognized as patrons without the ability to recognize
merit or the disposition to reward it. The error which
Pope made was to heed attacks for which he ought to
have had no other feeling than contempt; for after
all it was not so much from malignant criticism that he
suffered as from the dulness that is due to the sheer
lack of ability to appreciate. No great author has

293

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

ever escaped it. No great author ever will. Resent-
ment of attack is of course an error easier to point out
than avoid committing. Still, it was ignoble in Pope to
enter into a contest with his decriers. It reduced him
to the level of the men by whom he had been assailed.
But far more ignoble it was to resort to practices from
which he professed to have constantly suffered himself ;
to seek revenge for wounded vanity by a systematic
course of prevarication, of misrepresentation, and too
often of direct falsification.

294

CHAPTER XV

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

If the treatise on 4 The Bathos ' did not really excite
the clamor which it suited Pope's purposes to pretend it
did, and which it is still said to have produced, no such
failure attended the publication of * The Dunciad ' two
months later. This both gratified the scandal-loving
public and aroused to the highest pitch the resentment
of those it attacked. Replies of all sorts were made to
it. They were marked by the malevolence displayed in
the satire itself, but very rarely by anything remotely
approaching its ability. In them neither Pope's person
was spared nor his morals. It might have seemed un-
generous to taunt him for defects for which nature alone
was responsible, had not his own example given his in-
tellectual inferiors ample excuse as well as provocation
to assail him for crookedness of body as well as of mind.

Yet even the extent to which resentment manifested
itself publicly has been constantly overstated. A re-
markable thing connected with 'The Dunciad' is not
the number of those who were vociferous in repelling
the attack made upon themselves, but the number of
these who kept silence. Many, to be sure, were dead,
and could not reply. Some among the living — such as
Eusden and Blaekniore — were approaching death, and

295

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

were in no situation to reply, even had they possessed
the desire. Ambrose Philips was in Ireland, and though
he outlived Pope many years seems never to have taken
any notice, at least any public notice, of the assaults
made upon him and his writings either in the prose miscel-
lany or in the poem. This indeed is true of him through-
out his whole career. Constantly pursued by Pope with
virulence, the only retaliation he is ever reported to have
adopted or threatened is the one act of hanging up a rod
at Button's to indicate the nature of the chastisement
which awaited the poet on his appearance there ; and
this exhibits rather the mark of a jest or of an intent to
play upon his critic's fears than the indication of any
serious purpose. But among those attacked in the
1 Miscellanies ' or ' The Dunciad ' were several who were
still in the full maturity of their powers. Up to the
issue of the complete edition of the poem, with notes,
many of those satirized — such as Welsted, Moore-Smythe
and Cooke — preserved silence. Several others — like
Defoe, Colley Cibber, Aaron Hill, Hearne, and Budgel —
preserved silence always, so far at least as the public was
concerned. The most noise was made in fact by the
least injured.

The failure of some of these to reply, whether due to
dislike of controversy, or to the consciousness of the
absurdity of the charge, or to the lack of sensitiveness to
attack, or to the dread of further attack, occasioned in
many quarters a good deal of surprise. This was par-
ticularly the case after the quarto of 1729 with its
intensely personal notes made its appearance. Not un-
naturally Warburton was unable to understand a course

296

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

of conduct so repugnant to his own methods of procedure.
He so expressed himself to Theobald. " I am as much
surprised as you," replied the latter,1 " at the silence of
some whom we take to be injured." Yet in the number
of these was included the writer of the letter himself,
the one man against whom the full fury of the satire
had been directed. In none of the elaborate replies
made to the original ' Dunciad ' was Theobald concerned.
Scarcely even can he be said to have taken any notice of it
save under compulsion. Silence in his case could hardly
have been due to any dread of consequences. The
worst had been said of him already that could be said.
But there is little doubt that Theobald was by nature
averse to these personal controversies so dear to Dennis
who had now become his friend. Even if disinclination
had not existed, it was policy to remain silent. He
could not have been but well aware of the hopeless dis-
advantage under which he would labor in a contest of
wit with the most brilliant genius of the age. There
was one way in which he was conscious that he could ex-
hibit a superiority which would be generally recognized ;
and to this sort of reply he purposed to limit himself.
One result of the publication of 4 The Dunciad ' was
doubtless to spur him to put forth still more strenuous
exertions for the rectification of the text of Shakespeare.
The good or ill success of the work to which lie had now
devoted himself would, lie felt assured, either condemn
or justify the attack made upon him by the poet.

Attention has been called to the fact that Theobald's
method of dealing with the text of Shakespeare bad pro-

1 Letter of October 25, 172!>, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 848.

297

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

foundly impressed his contemporaries. English scholar-
ship indeed, as we understand it, did not exist at the
time. Still, there were men living then who were ca-
pable of recognizing what had been done to rescue the
work of the great dramatist from the state of unintelli-
gibility in which a good deal of it had been left by
the carelessness of printers, or into which it had been
brought by the ignorance or indolence of editors.
Regret, as we have seen, had been expressed from the
moment of the appearance of his criticism that he had
not been the one selected to supervise and establish the
correct text. That opportunity, it was thought, had
now passed. There prevailed a belief at that time, or
rather an impression, that a monopoly of printing the
plays of Shakespeare had accrued to the Tonsons.
From that publishing house had proceeded the editions
of Rowe and Pope. By many it was looked upon as
having secured by this action the sole right of printing
the text, at all events the text as amended. Accord-
ingly the next best thing was to publish commentaries
and corrections. To this sort of work Theobald was
urged to devote himself. A general desire was dis-
played, amounting almost to a demand, that he should
carry through the task he had already begun. The feel-
ing widely existed that he should not confine his atten-
tion, as before, to single passages or even single plays,
but he should make a full critical examination of all the
plays.

Theobald undoubtedly needed little urging. The
work was of a sort in which his tastes and inclinations
lay. For it too he must have been aware that he was

298

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

far better fitted than any man of his time. The fact
was indeed so generally recognized that others who had
the emendation of the text in mind abandoned their
plans and in some instances lent their aid. Still it was
not till 1728 that the project appears to have taken
definite shape. The play of 4 Double Falsehood ' had
been published late in December, 1727. Early in the
following year came out a second edition. In that,
Theobald added a passage to the original preface
announcing his intention. " I am honored," he said,
" with so many powerful solicitations pressing me to
the prosecution of an attempt which I have begun with
some little success, of restoring Shakespeare from the
numerous corruptions of his text, that I can neither
in gratitude nor good manners longer resist them. I
therefore think it not amiss here to promise that tho'
private property should so far stand in my way as to
prevent me from putting out an edition of Shakespeare,
yet some way or other, if I live, the public shall receive
from my hand his whole works corrected, with my best
care and ability." It is evident from his words that at
that time Theobald deemed himself barred from any
attempt to bring out an edition of the text. In conse-
quence his intention was to publish a complete series of
emendations of all the plays after the manner of the
work he had done in 'Shakespeare Restored.'

A project of this sort was one upon which Pope could
not be expected to look with favorable eyes. The
wound inflicted upon his self-love still rankled as much
as ever, if not even more. He knew well that in the
eyes of men Theobald's criticism of the way lie had

299

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

performed his task of editing appeared fully justified.
Additional exposure of his incapacity would be particu-
larly galling at a time when a second and cheaper
edition of his Shakespeare was going through the press
and would soon be put upon the market. It was his
interest, and it soon became an object at which he
steadily aimed, to underrate the results Theobald had
reached, to decry his methods, to give the impression
that his corrections, while good enough as far as they
went, did not after all go very far, and were in fact
little more than the fruits of protracted and stupid
industry. The fuller revenge for the criticism which
had inflicted this unexpected blow upon his repute had
been already prepared, and was waiting only for a
sufficient pretext to be put forth. But before that
made its appearance he had set out to convey the idea
that Theobald's correction of the text dealt only with
matters of minor importance, trivial points, details of
punctuation, and generally with things of little moment.
The prose attack made in the treatise on ' The Bathos '
has already been given. But in this third volume of
4 Miscellanies ' — called on its title-page " the last " l —
appeared certain verses with the heading * Fragment
of a Satire.' Pope's attack upon Addison had. been
first printed in a collection of pieces which came out
in 1723 under the title of 'Cythereia; or New Poems
upon Love and Intrigue.' It was styled in that work
' Verses occasioned by Mr. Tickell's Translation of the

1 The volume of the ' Miscellanies' called "the third" on its title-page
appeared in 1732. The 'Daily Journal' of October 5 announces it as
M first published this day."

300

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

first Iliad of Homer.' J It was followed in the same
volume by an answer from a certain John Markland,
and the following passage, infinitely inferior as it is
to any part of Pope's brilliant characterization, gives
some conception of the view which prevailed largely
as to his relations with Addison:

" So the skilled snarler pens his angry lines,
Grins lowly fawning, biting as he whines;
Traducing with false friendship's formal face,
And scandalizing with the mouth of praise."

The title-page of this collection of poems showed that
it came from the establishments of Curll and of Payne.
It is by no means unlikely that Pope had contrived to
have the satire conveyed into the hands of the former
publisher, just as he did later his letters; for Curll
was a man whom Pope took care to use occasionally
as well as to abuse regularly.

The satire upon Addison was now for the first time
printed in a volume authorized by the poet himself.
But to it were added attacks upon others; and the
whole fragment was subsequently embodied by him in
his * Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot.' There we have it in
its improved and perfected form; and whatever may
be thought of its justice, too much cannot be said in
praise of its point, its vigor, and its brilliancy. The
paragraph which contained the first attack upon Theo-
bald follows here as originally printed:

" Should some more sober critics come abroad,
If wrong, I smile ; if right, I kiss the rod.

i Cythereia, p. 90, N<>. XII.
301

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Pains, reading, study are their just pretence,

And all they want is spirit, taste and sense.

Commas and points they set exactly right;

And 't were a sin to rob them of their mite.

In future ages how their fame will spread

For routing triplets and restoring ed.

Yet ne'er one sprig of laurel graced these ribalds,

From sanguine Sew — down to piddling T — s,

Who thinks he reads when he but scans and spells,

A word-catcher that lives on syllables.

Yet ev'n this creature may some notice claim,

Wrapt round and sanctified with Shakespear's name ;

Pretty, in amber to observe the forms

Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs or worms ;

The thing, we know, is neither rich nor rare,

But wonder how the devil it got there."

No merely scholastic reputation could hold its own
against lines so stinging as these. Later much of
this passage was changed for the better. In the re-
vised form in which we are now familiar wTith it, the
couplet containing the remarks on routing triplets and
restoring ed was omitted. For whomsoever it may
have been designed, it had nothing to do with Theo-
bald, who had never been concerned in anything of the
kind. But the epithet " piddling " was retained, and it
clung to him. The addition of an -s to his name was a
necessity imposed by the ryme, and the word selected
for the ryme had here neither sense nor appropriateness.
Yet such is the influence of a great writer that this way
of spelling the commentator's name was henceforward
adopted by many.

The lines just given were put forward as the pre-
cursors of the more crushing attack which was now

302

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

ready to come out and soon came. A short time, how-
ever, after the appearance of ' The Dunciad,' there was
printed in ' Mist's Journal ' a communication about it
which excited Pope's indignation to a high degree. It
was dated from Gray's Inn the 29th of May, and was
signed W. A.1 These letters chanced to be the initials
of the name of a somewhat noted political writer of the
period, William Arnall, a man of no mean abilities. lie
had had nothing to do with the composition of the piece,
and in all probability was entirely ignorant of its origin.
But he knew enough of Pope to be well aware that
unless he cleared himself from all complicity with its
production he would have directed against him the hos-
tility of the greatest genius and most popular writer of
the day. He took pains, therefore, to disavow the author-
ship of the letter signed with his initials and to dis-
claim any connection with it whatever. His statement,
of which there is no reason to doubt the truth, was ac-
cepted by the poet. It ma}r be added, however, that he
gained nothing in the long run by being spared on this
occasion. He still continued to write articles in favor
of Walpole and against Bolingbroke and the so-called
party of patriots. Pope's patience gave way at last at
what lie chose to call Arnall's '* most unexampled inso-
lence, impudent billingsgate language and personal abuse
of several great men, the poet's particular friends." 2 Ac-
cordingly in later editions he was given a place in ' The
Dunciad,' and in the opinion of Pope's biographers be-
came in consequence a dunce.

1 'Mist's Journal,' June $, 1728.

- Dunciad, note to line 898 of Book 2, edition <>r 1735, In edition of

1743, note to lino 315, with soiih; omissions and other changes.

808

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

This letter signed W. A. was somewhat softened by
the editor of ' Mist's Journal,' as he himself tells us.
But as it was, Pope resented it bitterly. It gave an
account of his relations with Addison and charged
him with heaping flattery upon that author while he
was living; but as soon as he was dead, it added, he
"libelled the memory of his departed friend, traduced
him in a sharp invective, and what was still more hei-
nous, he made the scandal public." Then followed an
account of the reasons which had led to the production
of the just published poem, the most irritating feature of
which was its truth. Reference was made to the lines
in the ' Miscellany ' satirizing Theobald, and the further
attack upon him in l The Dunciad.' These, it was said,
had been written by Pope " to express his indignation
at the man who had supplied his defects without his
reward, and faithfully performed what himself under-
took and ought to have discharged." To what had
been accomplished by the commentator the article
gave the highest praise. One passage in particular
there was in this letter expressing an opinion about
'Shakespeare Restored' which Pope, as we shall see,
was speedily to join with another written by the
author of that treatise and manipulate to suit his own
purposes.

No one knows now who wrote the letter signed W. A. ;
nor did Pope know then. The secret of the identity of
the author was well kept. As there was no one man
upon whom the poet could fix with certainty, he chose
to ascribe the composition of this piece to a cabal. In
the appendix to the quarto of 1729 he attributed it to

304

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

" Dennis, Theobald, and others."1 By the time the Gilli-
ver octavo appeared, knowledge of the real authorship
had not, to be sure, increased, but the invention of writers
and circumstances had. Pope created an association of
men who met together weekly to assail him. By some
one of this band it was concocted, though he did not
know by whom. " It was writ," he said, " by some or
other of the club of Theobald, Dennis, Moore, Concanen,
Cooke, who for some time held constant weekly meetings
for these kind of performances." This is a statement re-
peated in all editions of 4 The Dunciad ' down to the pres-
ent day. The association of men who met regularly to
assail Pope and his writings plays an important part in
the accounts given of the satire. It is treated with as
much seriousness as if there were no doubt of its having
had an actual existence. It is a club which owed its
existence to the poet's creative imagination. Outside of
what was said by Pope in the passage just quoted there
is not a contemporary allusion to it elsewhere, nor a
scintilla of evidence anywhere to suggest its reality.

If internal evidence is of any value one thing is cer-
tain. Whoever wrote the letter signed W. A., Theobald
did not. Not only is it unlike his manner, it contained
remarks to which he would never have himself given ut-
terance. That it was written by some one friendly to
him is probable ; not impossibly by a personal friend.
Of this, however, there can be no assurance ; for any one
and every one hostile to Pope would almost inevitably
resort to so fertile a source of irritation to the poet as
praise of his critic. But it was clearly written by one
i Dunciad, <|u:u-t<> <>f i7im>, p. 94,

20 305

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

who knew the facts. The account of the origin of ' The
Dunciad ' naturally varied a good deal from that which
Pope took care later to give, and which for a long time
it became the fashion to repeat. Here the true source
was distinctly indicated as being the criticism of his edi-
tion in 'Shakespeare Restored.' "It being impracti-
cable," went on the letter- writer, " to expose any errors in
that work, he was extravagantly witty on some earlier
productions of his antagonist."

Wherever there was an end of his own to be served,
Pope was always capable of adjusting the facts to the
requirements of the situation. In the appendix to ' The
Dunciad ' we have seen that he attributed W. A.'s letter
to one or more of several authors. In the body of the
work, however, he ascribed it to one alone. This was
Theobald himself. In the notes he introduced a quota-
tion from it as if there were not the least doubt of that
fact.1 The apparent ground for imputing its composition
to Theobald was the high commendation it gave to his
work on Shakespeare. As this was a method of self-
criticism to which Pope was himself specially addicted,
it is not particularly surprising that he should attribute
the same practice to his opponent. But there was an-
other reason for the bitterness he felt. Besides this
letter which Theobald surely did not write, there was one
which he surely did. To it his name was appended. It
is that already described as containing the defence against
the criticism, put forth in the treatise on ' The Bathos,' of
certain expressions found in * Double Falsehood.' In this

1 Note in quarto of 1729 to line 106 of Book 1. In modern editions,
where the falsification is much graver, the note is attached to line 133.

306

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

letter he had taken no notice of the personal attacks
upon himself both in the prose and poetry of the last
volume of ' Miscellanies.' There was nothing indeed in
his communication which betrayed the existence of any
special sensitiveness to what had been said about
himself; in fact the tone throughout may be called
good-natured.

But Theobald had been rudely awakened from the be-
lief that he was to find in Pope the generous antagonist
he had pictured in his treatise, delighted to have the text
of Shakespeare benefited, even if errors made by himself
were pointed out. He therefore felt under no obligation
to spare his adversary's sensibilities. During the preced-
ing two years he had not been idle. Much, he believed,
had been accomplished by him in establishing a correct
text of Shakespeare ; though he evidently had no con-
ception of how much more remained to be accomplished.
He was now maturing a scheme to publish the results of
his studies ; and in this letter of April 27 he exhibited
no hesitation about declaring his intention of following
up his previous criticism. This declaration could not of
itself have been agreeable to the poet ; but it was made
more offensive by the way in which it was announced.
His own second edition of Shakespeare was to come out
in the course of the year ; then his performance would
be subject to a new examination. " If Mr. Pope," Theo-
bald wrote, in conclusion, " is angry with me for attempt-
ing to restore Shakespeare, I hope the public are not.
Admit my sheets have no other merit, they will at least
have this : They will awaken him to some degree of
accuracy in his next edition of that poet which we an- to

£07

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

have in a few months ; and then we shall see whether he
owed the errors of the former edition to indiligence or
to inexperience in the author. And as my remarks upon
the whole works of Shakespeare shall closely attend upon
the publication of his edition, I'll venture to promise
without arrogance that I '11 then give above five hundred
more fair emendations that shall escape him and all his
assistants."

There was a threat in these final words which Pope
never forgot or forgave. A rod had been held up over
his head. The consciousness possessed by Theobald of
his own superiorit}^ in textual criticism had led him to
give to this announcement a tone almost of patronage.
Whether it was wise or unwise to say what he did, the
confidence expressed was due to his full acquaintance
with Pope's methods of editing. How deeply these
words galled the poet can be seen from the way he
subsequently tortured them to convey a meaning en-
tirely different from what they had expressed. Indeed,
no more instructive example can be furnished of the de-
vices resorted to by Pope to misrepresent both the words
and the character of his critic. He remembered to quote
this passage or something like it, in the editions of * The
Dunciad ' of 1729, and those which followed. He re-
membered to misquote it in the edition of 1743. The
changes it underwent at different times present a strik-
ing picture of the varieties of falsification which Pope
could manage to exhibit in a small compass.

When the extract from 4 Mist's Journal ' appeared in
a note to the quarto of 1729, the letter itself was still
reasonably fresh in memory, and was readily accessible

308

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

to any one who sought to ascertain for himself the exact
words. Pope's representation of it did not consequently
vary materially from what Theobald had written. In the
note containing it lie joined to it the remark just cited
from W. A.'s letter concerning ■ Shakespeare Restored.'
It was with the following account of Theobald that he
introduced it. " What is still in memory," wrote Pope,
" is a piece now about a year old ; it had the arrogant
title of * Shakespear Restored.' Of this he was so
proud himself as to say in one of ' Mist's Journals,'
June 8, i That to expose any errors in it was imprac-
ticable.' And in another, April 27, ' That whatever
care for the future might be taken either by Mr. P. or
any other assistants, he would still give above five hun-
dred emendations that shall escape them all.'' " l

There is a certain popular prejudice — from which, in
justice to Pope here it must be said that he was every-
where invariably exempt — in favor of giving an author's
exact words when extracts from his writings are enclosed
between quotation marks. To say nothing of ascribing
to Theobald an assertion about his ' Shakespeare Re-
stored' which had never come from him at all, the
variations between what he actually wrote in his let-
ter and what he was represented as having written,
though somewhat trivial, are sufficient to give a mis-
leading impression. Especially is this caused by the
insertion of the words " whatever care for the future
might be taken." Still, for Pope this was a reasonably

1 Dunciad, quarto of 1729. Note to line 106 of Book 1. The note
in thifl form is not in modern editions ; in its changed form it is attached
t<» line 133.

309

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

accurate quotation. At that period it was not safe to
go any farther. Accordingly the note as here quoted
continued essentially unchanged for a number of years
— in truth until the edition of 1743. Lapse of time
then enabled Pope to subject the facts to a more sat-
isfactory rearrangement. Men had forgotten them ; the
means of verifying them practically existed no longer.
The observation contained in W. A.'s letter that it was
impracticable to point out any errors in ' Shakespeare
Restored • was now extended. That it should continue
to be imputed to Theobald was what might have been
expected. But it now appeared as having been said by
him, not of this particular critical treatise, but of his edi-
tion of Shakespeare, which it is needless to remark, was
so far from being in existence when W. A.'s letter ap-
peared that it was not then even contemplated.

This did fairly well as a falsification of something
which, though not written by Theobald, was ascribed
to him. But it was equalled, if not surpassed, by the
further falsification of something which he had written.
The promise which he had made that he could give above
five hundred fair emendations of the text which would
escape the attention of Pope in his forthcoming edition
and of all his assistants, was no longer confined to that
work. It was extended to all editions yet to be brought
out by any one whomsoever. Theobald is reported as
having asserted " that whatever care might for the fu-
ture be taken by any other editor he would still give
above five hundred emendations that shall escape them
all." l This statement must have met with the implied

1 Dunciad, quarto of 1743 and later editions, note to Book 1, line 133.

310

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1738

if not the express sanction of Warburton, who could not
well have managed, by straining forgetfulness to the ut-
most, to be unaware of its utter falsity. That divine
was careful to retain what he could not help knowing
to be a lie in the edition of • The Dunciad ' which he
published in 1749. It is upon this and similar flagrant
perversions of the facts — for while many must be left
unrecorded, there are others yet to be given — that the
estimate taken of Theobald came to be founded. The
note just given, with its glaring falsehood, has remained
unchanged and unchallenged in every edition of the poet's
works from his day to our own. It is one of several for-
geries which have been made the basis for imputing to
Theobald vanity, self-sufficiency, and arrogance. It was
more than once cited by later writers as giving a true
picture of his character and state of mind.

Theobald, while never making a formal reply to ' The
Dunciad,' incidentally took notice of one or two false
statements made about himself in that satire. On June
22 he published in ' Mist's Journal ' his proposals for
printing by subscription notes and remarks critical and
explanatory on the comedies, histories, and tragedies of
Shakespeare. One gets from his words the impression
that he had as yet no conception of the magnitude of
the task he had set before himself. In the proposals a
definite declaration was made that the corruptions of all
the former editions would be removed ; the text would
be amended in above a thousand places; the pointing
would be rectified so as to render clear a number of pas-
sages previously absurd and unintelligible ; and finally
that obsolete and difficult words and obscure places would

311

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

be explained. The work was to be printed in three oc-
tavo volumes at the price of a guinea, and to be deliv-
ered to subscribers the first day of the coming December.
It was further announced that the whole copy was ready
for the press. This statement, if precisely true, is con-
clusive proof that the undertaking, so far completed, cor-
responded but little with the design he came speedily to
entertain.

In the communication to * Mist's Journal ' accompany-
ing these proposals Theobald called attention to one speci-
fic falsehood about himself expressed or rather implied in.
* The Dunciad.' He seems to have referred to it because
it was distinctly calculated to interfere with the success
of his efforts in gaining subscribers. This method of
publication had now come to be overdone. Any pretext,
however flimsy, was consequently seized upon by the
unwilling victim to free himself from the importunities
of writers. It is evident from a number of passages in
his letter that Theobald was now beginning to realize
what it meant to come into conflict with the most influ-
ential author of the age, who was at the same time the
most unscrupulous. Pope had represented his critic as
deciding to give himself up to party writing, which then
and long afterward among the English was considered a
pursuit distinctly unbefitting a gentleman. He was de-
picted as having cast aside his Flaccus — a possible al-
lusion to the once contemplated version of Horace —
and deliberating whether he should resume his ancient
profession of attorney,

" Or rob the Roman geese of all their glories,
And save the state by cackling to the Tories ?
312

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

Yes, to my country I my pen consign,

Yes, from this moment, mighty Mist ! am thine." 1

There was a manifest intention to insinuate here that
Theobald was writing politieal articles in the most ex-
treme Tory organ of the time. It was not a light charge
to make against a comparatively obscure scholar in those
days of Whig domination. The mere report could not
fail to be harmful; for ridiculously false as it would
seem to those who knew the facts, the number of these
would be necessarily limited. Theobald was accordingly
fully justified in the indignation he expressed at a false-
hood so purposely malicious. He had never meddled in
political matters. As he said himself, he had never had
any inclination that way. Both his tastes and his studies
lay in entirely different fields. He could have justly
added that his sympathies, so far as he possessed any,
were with the existing administration. Walpole indeed
became one of his patrons, and to that minister his
4 Orestes ' was dedicated in 1730, and his • Fatal Secret,'
in 1735. Furthermore, up to the time of the publica-
tion of ' The Dunciad ' but two pieces of his had ap-
peared in ' Mist's Journal.' Neither of these had dealt
at all with political questions, and one of them had not
been communicated by himself.

Theobald's indignant denial of an assertion intended
to injure him in his scheme of securing subscribers had
not the slightest effect upon Pope's action. No one
ever recognized more clearly than he the advantage of

1 Dunciad, ed. of 1728, Hook 1, lines 181-184; eel. of 1729, lines 191-
194; in modern editions, lines 211-214, necessarily niueh changed, as it
now refers to CibbttN

313

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

sticking unflinchingly to a falsehood, or followed more
assiduously the practice of enlarging and strengthening
it after it was once put forth. Not only were the lines
left unchanged in the complete edition of 1729, but a
note was added to make the insinuation conveyed by
them more effective. " Nathaniel Mist," ran its words,
" was publisher of a famous Tory paper, in which this
author was sometimes permitted to have a part." * The
note was intended to injure the man attacked, not to
enlighten the reader, who would be as well informed
about this journal as Pope himself. Theobald was fully
aware at the time that there were difficulties enough in
his way without being saddled with the burden of this
unfounded charge. It was not merely, he said, that sub-
scriptions had now become a heavy tax, but he was not
known to the opulent and great, whose encouragement
and assistance was needed in order to carry through his
undertaking. " I am aware too," he added, " of no little
discouragement from the slenderness of my own reputa-
tion in letters. " All he could plead was that he sought
to make Shakespeare intelligible to his readers, and to
increase the pleasure to be derived from his writings.
"Could I flatter myself," he wrote, "this performance
would have a merit equal to the labor of it, I might hope
to build a reputation that all Mr. Pope's attacks should
not be able to pull down. But the only praise it shall
have from myself is what I hope I may be allowed to
give it ; that as I have for many years had my author
entirely at heart, my whole powers shall be bent to
retrieve and explain his text."

1 This note was omitted in the recast of 1 743 and no longer appears.

814

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

In November of this year came out in eight duodecimo
volumes the second edition of Pope's Shakespeare. In
preparing these for the press the poet found himself in
something of a dilemma. Theobald's emendations were
in many cases too palpably right to be disregarded. If
he neglected them he would lay himself open to the
censure of the public for having allowed personal pique
to stand in the way of the proper presentation of the
text of his author. If he adopted them he would by
that very fact confess that he had been indebted for
the explanation of passages which he had failed to under-
stand to the very man whom he had stigmatized as pre-
eminently a dunce. It shows the extent of the repute
which Theobald had then gained that Pope felt himself
under the necessity of resorting to the latter alternative.
He did it grudgingly; he tried to break the force of
every admission ; he underrated his critic's emendations
wherever he discovered the slightest pretext. Some of
the corrections he adopted in his text without specify-
ing them in particular. At the end of the eighth volume
he made a general acknowledgment of the obligations he
was under, so far as he was under any obligation at all,
which he implied was very little. Then lie inserted sev-
eral pages of Theobald's corrections under the heading
of " Various readings or conjectures on passages in
Shakespear." The addition to his work of this list,
which was accompanied with comments of his own, fur-
nished him the easiest way of extricating himself from
an unsatisfactory position.

The prefatory remarks to the list, with all the affected
depreciation displayed in it of the work of his opponent,

315

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

does not hide the mortification which his criticism had
caused. "Since the publication of our first edition,"
wrote Pope, "there having been some attempts upon
Shakespear published by Lewis Theobald (which he
would not communicate during the time wherein that
edition was preparing for the press, when we, by public
advertisements, did request the assistance of all lovers
of this author), we have inserted in this impression as
many of 'em as are judged of any the least advantage to
the poet; the whole amounting to about twenty-five
words. But to the end every reader may judge for
himself, we have annexed a complete list of the rest;
which if he shall think trivial or erroneous, either in
part or the whole ; at worst it can spoil but a half sheet
of paper that chances to be left vacant here. And we
purpose, for the future, to do the same with respect to
any other persons, who either thro' candor or vanity,
shall communicate the least thing tending to the illus-
tration of our author. We have here omitted nothing
but pointings and mere errors of the press, which I hope
the corrector of it has rectified ; if not, I cou'd wish as
accurate an one as Mr. Th. had been at that trouble,
which I desired Mr. Tonson to solicit him to undertake."
It needed but the most cursory of examinations to
discover that no really serious work had been put by
Pope on this new edition. But it was at once subjected
to an examination which was not cursory. It had been
out only a few days when Theobald sent a letter to the
1 Daily Journal ' 2 commenting upon it and the remarks
contained at the end of it about himself. The first sen-

1 .November 26, 1728. Theobald's letter is dated Nov. 23.

316

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

tence of these he quoted in full. He referred to his
previous declaration in * Mist's Journal ' in which, be-
fore this edition came out, he had promised that he
would give over five hundred fair emendations that
should escape Pope and all his assistants. His friends
had been disposed at the time to regard this declaration
on his part as both impolitic and rash. Pope, however,
he said ironically, had been too generous to take advan-
tage of his challenge. He was therefore prepared to
more than fulfil his promise. The expected edition had
now made its appearance, and so far as he had been en-
abled to discover, contained no other corrections of pre-
vious errors than those drawn from his own treatise
published two years before. According to the state-
ment found at its end, the number of what its editor had
called his critic's " attempts upon Shakespeare," that
had been adopted by him, amounted to u about " twenty-
five words. Any reader, Theobald affirmed, who took
the pains to make the requisite examination, would find
that Pope had introduced into his text from ' Shake-
speare Restored ' " about " a hundred of changes in ex-
pression, or changes in meaning which affected the
sense. Every one now knows that the poet had grossly
understated his obligations to that treatise. Still, he
was doubtless prepared to parry the effect of any such
charge by insisting that those above the number he gave
consisted merely of pointings and errors of the press.
At all events his assertion seems to have been the reason
that led Theobald in the notes to his own edition, some
years after, to specify the instances in which Pope had
adopted the more importanl corrections of words and

317

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

phrases which he had himself previously proposed.
They amounted to fifty-one in all.1

If there had been any anxiety on Theobald's part that
Pope was ever likely to rival him as a commentator on
Shakespeare, the appearance of this new edition dis-
pelled any fear of the sort. " I have over and over
declared," he wrote, " that no provocation from this gen-
tleman shall break in either upon my temper or good
manners ; nor tempt me to reply to him with petulance
or scurrility." But he clearly considered that neither
temper nor good manners prevented him from express-
ing very positive opinions about the qualifications as an
editor of the man whom, he asserted, he had once viewed
with respect and admiration, and wished that he could
so view him still. His characterization of the poet in
that capacity was sufficiently sweeping. It was to the
effect that " if want of industry in collating old copies,
if want of reading proper authors to ascertain points of
history, if want of knowledge of the modern tongues,
want of judgment in digesting his authors own text, or
want of sagacity in restoring it where it is manifestly
defective, can disable any man from a title to be the
editor of Shakespeare, I make no scruples to declare

1 The following are the pages in Theobald's first edition of Shake-
speare in which he specifies the adoption by Pope in his second edition
of emendations which he had advanced in his ' Shakespeare Kestored ' ;
in one instance his approval merely: vol. i. pp. 67, 92, 301, 418, 428;
vol. ii. pp. 6, 20, 64, 115, 273, 313, 432, 497 ; vol. iii. pp. 18, 39, 125, 192,
378; vol. iv. pp. 49, 65, 225, 250, 509; vol. v. pp. 12, 13, 18, 193, 243, 269,
284, 360, 426 ; vol. vi. pp. 19, 41, 76, 110, 216, 234, 382, 393, 405, 419, 439,
440 ; vol. vii. pp. 76, 90, 132, 141, 246, 257, 384. Compare also in this last
volume, page 259. These, of course, are Theohald's own emendations ;
not his restorations, from the original editions, of the right reading which
had been overlooked by Pope.

318

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728

that hitherto Mr. Pope appears absolutely unequal to
that task."

One of Theobald's most irritating peculiarities was
his habit of proving his assertions. He set out to con-
vict Pope of every one of the sort of errors he had
enumerated. He professed that under each he could
furnish plenty of examples; he would do so when his
promised volumes of comment came out; but in the
space allowed to a letter he had to content himself with
a single illustration of the various charges. In general,
it may be said that he took the ground that Pope had
failed in giving the right reading, sometimes because he
had not followed the old copies which he pretended to
have collated, and sometimes because he had followed
them. He specified as an instance of his want of in-
dustry of collation, the appearance of fortune for fortress
in the speech of Octavian in 'Antony and Cleopatra'; 2
of his want of reading proper authors to ascertain points
of history, in his substitution of hate for have in the
same play, when Sextus Pompey says to Antony, tf You
have my fathers house ; " 2 of his want of knowledge of
modern languages in leaving unamended the corrupt
Italian in 'Love's Labor's Lost';3 of his want of judg-
ment in correcting his author's text by his following the

1 Act iii., scene 2. 2 Act ii., scene 7.

•'5 Act iv\, scene 2. Theobald in his own edition printed this Italian
quotation as follows : Vinegia, Vinegia I </ui non te vedi, el non te pregia
(vol. ii. p. 130, ed. of 173.3). In this letter, however, it reads as follows :
Venezia, Venezia, che non tl vedi, ei non It preziaa. In the folio of 1623
the following was the reading : vemchie, vencha, que non te wide, (pie non te
perreche. Pope followed Howe and the later folios in printing it, Venechi,
venache a, qui non te vide, t non te piaech. Theobald*! Italian eonld have been
improved: but there was no difficulty in ascertaining from it the meaning.

819

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

old copies in ' Henry VIII.' 1 and so representing Car-
dinal Wolscy as being a scholar, and a ripe and good
one, from his cradle ; and in 4 Henry V.' 2 of his want of
sagacity in restoring the text by reading " abounding
valor" instead of "a bounding valor." Further, he
pointed out that the story of ' Hamlet,' of the origin of
which Pope professed his ignorance, came from the
Historia Danica of Saxo Grammaticus.

With the exception of the reading in ' Henry V.' — to
which there has been only partial assent — all the res-
torations and changes given here are found usually in
later editions. One of these — fortress for fortune —
Theobald claimed as being in one sense his own. He
had seen that the context required the emendation, and
had actually made it before he had had the opportunity
to discover that it existed in the folio of 1623 ; just as
in his ignorance of its occurrence in that same work he
had previously altered guided to gilded in ' The Merry
Wives of Windsor.' 3 There is no more reason to ques-
tion the assertion in the former case than in the latter.
Both corrections were due to his own sagacity, though
each was later confirmed by authority. The first folio,
Theobald informs us, he had never seen until a short
time before. Its supreme value no one at the time ap-
preciated ; but with a scholar's instinct he recognized at
once its exceeding importance. Though only a little
while in his hands he tells us in this letter that he
had already collated by it a single play, the shortest
in Shakespeare, and had found above forty material
various readings of which Pope had taken no manner

1 Act iv., scene 2. 2 Act iv., scene 3. 3 See page 169.

320

SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1128

of notice. This had strengthened his previous convic-
tions. As a result of his examination of the new
edition he accordingly considered that he was justified
in declaring that whatever were Pope's poetical merits,
he could not but feel himself able to contest with him
the palm of Shakespeare.

In this letter Theobald further announced that the
necessity of reading and collating Pope's eight volumes
rendered it necessary to postpone for a little while the
publication of his own volumes of comment. Still, he
assured subscribers, or intending subscribers, that with
the exception of those to be made from the edition just
published, his remarks had all been drawn out and
copied and were ready for the press ; and the manuscript
would be subject to examination at his house by any
one wishing to satisfy himself of the fact by personal
inspection. Such an offer indicates how much at that
time this method of publication had been abused, — how
suspicions, too often justified, had come to prevail about
the good faith of authors in resorting to it. The time of
subscribing was now extended to the latter end of the
following January. Thus closed the year 1728.

21 321

CHAPTER XVI

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

January came and went without showing any signs
of the appearance of Theobald's promised three volumes
of emendations. It may be that there had not been a
sufficient number of subscribers to justify sending to the
press what he had already prepared. To this reason for
delay, if it existed, there must have been added another
and more powerful one. There can be little question of
the fact that the greatness of the task he had assumed
grew upon him. The impossibility of completing it
satisfactorily in the time he had set would force itself
more and more upon the attention of a man who was by
nature essentially a scholar as distinguished from a man
of letters. It is not unlikely too that a change of plan
had already presented itself to his mind which would
involve revision on a grander scale than he had origi-
nally contemplated.

But, however long he might delay his promised vol-
umes, or for whatever reason, he could rest assured of
the unceasing and virulent hostility of the man whose
resentment he had roused. Outside of the Shake-
spearean controversy, the ' Parnassian War,' as it was
then the fashion to style it, had shown distinct signs of
having spent its violence by the end of 1728. It cannot

322

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

be said to have died out entirely, but it had been pretty
effectually lulled to sleep. In the last month of that
year Ward, to be sure, had made an exceedingly feeble
but not ill-tempered reply to the attack upon himself in
a poem called ' Durgen.' But this was a belated out-
burst. The whole matter, as well as the ill-feeling
engendered by it, had now ceased to interest the public.
Very few traces of its existence can be discovered in
the newspaper press of the period under consideration.
All this was suddenly changed by the publication in
March, 1729, of the so-called ' Dunciad Variorum.' The
war broke out at once with redoubled fury.

In 'The Dunciad' of 1728 it was the verse that kindled
anger. In the enlarged edition of the following year
the same result was produced by the prose of the pro-
legomena and appendix, and especially of the notes. In
all these Pope represented himself as having acted
entirely on the defensive. He had been for years a
long-suffering but silent victim to slanders which he
had now set out to expose, and to slanderers whom he
was determined to crush. In consequence the commen-
tary was full of severe reflections upon the lives and
works of his enemies or supposed enemies. The hero
of the poem was but one of a number upon whom the
censure fell. Dennis, Welsted, Moore-Smythe, Con-
canon, Ozell, Giles Jacob, and numerous others were
made the subjects of attack in his annotations. Their
obscure origin was dwelt upon, as also their detestable
practices in assailing I 'ope and his friends. It is very
noticeable, indeed, how very sensitive the poet was to
anything that had been said in disparagement of the

323

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

unfortunate play, ' Three Hours after Marriage,' which
bore Gay's name, but in which Arbuthnot and he were
charged with having a hand.

The ill-success of that piece was the principal cause
of Pope's henceforth life-long hostility to the stage. No
one cast any reflections upon it without incurring an
enmity that never died out. Breval had satirized it in
a farce called ' The Confederates ' ; eleven years after
he was pilloried for the act in 4The Dunciad.' The
same fate befell Charles Johnson for reflecting upon it
in the prologue to ' The Sultaness ' which was brought
out in 1717. Giles Jacob, in his ' Poetical Register ' had
given a far from unfavorable estimate of Gay and his
poetry. But in the account of his theatrical pieces he
observed of the play in question that it "has some
extraordinary scenes in it which seemed to trespass on
female modesty." 2 This was a very mild way of
describing the gross immorality of a piece of which
Welsted justly said, it

" was so lewd,
E'en bullies blushed and beaux astonished stood."2

But mild as it was, it was enough. Jacobs was hence-
forth a marked man. He took his place in c The Dun-
ciad ' with a note about his volume containing the lives
of the poets, that "he very grossly and unprovoked
abused in that book the author's friend, Mr. Gay."3
We can get from this specimen some conception of

1 Poetical Register, vol. ii. p. 114.

2 Palaemon to Caeliaat Bath ; or the Triumvirate, 1717.

3 Note to line 149 of Book 3, editions of 1729. But this part of the
note was not in the quarto ; it did not appear till the Gilliver octavo.

324

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

Pope's idea of gross abuse, when directed toward him-
self and his allies.

But however much other persons took part in the
various controversies that arose from the publication of
the 'Dunciad Variorum,' it is Theobald alone who con-
cerns us here. He could not fail to feel keenly the
abusive picture given of himself, which multitudes
would accept as a genuine portrayal of his character and
actions, and as a matter of fact have accepted. Atten-
tion has already been called to his determination not to
return railing for railing. In his letter to 'Mist's Journal'
some months before, communicating his proposals for
the publication of his three volumes, he had distinctly
proclaimed his intention of not replying in kind to the
attacks aimed at himself. " As I endeavored," he said,
" in my ' Shakespeare Restored ' to treat Mr. Pope with
all becoming deference, so I shall carefully avoid in
these volumes any animadversions that may impeach me
of ill manners. And as to follow him in his scurrilities
I should think too great a reproach upon myself : so to
name him oftener than there is a necessity for it in a
work where he has been so egregiously mistaken, I shall
think it doing him too much honor."1

To this resolution Theobald adhered faithfully to the
last. At times indeed he was tempted to break silence
and assume the offensive. Early in 1730 he consulted
Warburton about the advisability of publishing some
comments occasioned by the translation of Homer.2
His proposal apparently met with the approval of his

1 ' Mist's Journal,' No. 1G6, June 22, 1728.

2 Letter to Warburton, March 10, 17.'H), Nichols, vol. ii. p. 551.

325

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

correspondent; but fortunately he never carried the
project in effect. If right, he could only have made a
further exposure of Pope's lack of scholarship, which
scholars already knew fully, and for which none of the
poet's readers cared a particle. There was in conse-
quence nothing to be gained and everything to be
risked by an undertaking of this sort. Theobald was
not a writer who could have shone in a controversy
where the knowledge was all on his side and the wit on
the other. He was not one of that order of scholars
who bear their load of learning lightly as a flower. He
would have sunk under it. He would have written on
matters in which hardly anybody took interest, in a
way which would have destroyed the interest of the
very few that did.

Theobald's intention to make no reply was well known
to friends as well as foes. Cooke, in his revised edition
of * The Battle of the Poets,' 1 made a distinct reference
to the resolution in the following lines :

" Pope and his forces disappointed bend
Their fury doubled on great Shakespeare's friend.

The style of porters he would bring in use,
As if all wit consisted in abuse ;
But Theobald, in keener weapons strong,
Made his revenge to prove the foe was wrong ;
He wisely sees, while envious slanders fail,
The better part is to convince, not rail."

Theobald in fact had a curious confidence in the ultimate
triumph of truth, which has about it, when we consider

i Edition of 1728, p. 32.

326

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

what has actually happened, something almost pathetic.
The only way he proposed to defend himself was by ex-
posing the blunders of his adversary. " For myself,
you know," he wrote to Warburton, "I have purposed
to reply only in Shakespeare." l As time went on, he
was less and less inclined to retaliate by personal attack,
in spite of the persistent provocation he was receiving.

But though Theobald took no notice of the attacks
upon his writings scattered through the notes to ' The
Dunciad,' there were one or two which reflected upon
his moral character. These stood on a different footing
and demanded in consequence a different attitude. Pope,
after stating that the hero of his poem had produced
many forgotten plays, poems, and other pieces, went on
to put down as a fact that he was the author of several
anonymous letters in praise of them in ' Mist's Journal.'
This assertion, as gratuitous as it was false, Theobald let
pass without comment; but not so the personal griev-
ance which Pope formulated immediately after. It was
the very same which he had already specified at the end
of his second edition of Shakespeare. Theobald had
not come forward to assist him as he ought and when he
ought. While he himself had been engaged upon the
text of the dramatist he had requested all those interested
in the plays to furnish him with whatever contributions
they could to render the work more perfect. Theobald,
however, had chosen to keep the results of his investiga-
tion to himself, obviously intending to make the use of
llicin he did. " During the space of two years," ran this
portion of the note, "while Mr. Pope was preparing his

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 248, letter of Oct. 25, 1729.

827

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

edition of Shakespear, and published advertisements
requesting all lovers of the author to contribute] to a
more perfect one; this Restorer (who had then some
correspondence with him, and was soliciting favors,
by letters) did wholly conceal his design, 'till after its
publication." 1

The charge that while contemplating the publication
of emendations of his own to Shakespeare and refusing
aid to Pope, at the very time he was begging favors from
him, was one to which Theobald felt bound to reply.
Accordingly a few days after the publication of ' The
Dunciad Variorum ' he addressed a letter on the subject
to the editor — or, as the style then was, to the author —
of the ' Daily Journal.' 2 Before any impartial tribunal
the reply would have been deemed conclusive. Inciden-
tally he disposed of the first assertion. " To say I con-
cealed my design," he wrote, " is a slight mistake ; for I
had no such certain design till I saw how incorrect an
edition Mr. Pope had given the public." But his main
object was to defend himself from the charge of ingrati-
tude for the favors he had received. One favor, indeed,
he had requested of Pope. After he had brought out a
play upon the stage — he did not specify which one —
he asked him to assist him in a few tickets towards his
benefit. About a month later he received his tickets
back with the excuse from the poet that he had been all
the while from home, and had not received the parcel
until it was too late to do anything with it.

1 Dunciad, quarto of 1729. Book 1, liue 106. The note is not in
modern editions.

a Daily Journal, April 17, 1729. Reprinted in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 214, as
addressed to Concanen.

328

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

The excuse was a civil one ; it was possibly true, it
was undoubtedly believed by its recipient to be true. At
all events it led him, when he put forth proposals for his
translation of iEschylus, to solicit Pope to recommend
his design, if it did not interfere with the success of his
version of the ' Odyssey.' To this Pope replied very cor-
dially in a letter from which Theobald quoted the exact
words. He expressed his pleasure that the latter had
undertaken the work, and would be glad to do what he
could to aid it ; and though he felt a repugnance and in-
deed an inability to solicit subscriptions for his own trans-
lation, still for Theobald he would ask those of his
friends with whom he was familiar enough to ask for
anything of such a nature. The asking was pretty cer-
tainly never performed ; if so, it was wholly unsuccess-
ful. From that day to the publication of his • Shake-
speare Restored,' Theobald added that he had never
received one further line from Mr. Pope, had never had
an intimation of a single subscriber secured by his
interest, nor even an order that on the list should be put
down his own name.

Pope was certainly under no obligation to subscribe
for books he did not want. His own success that way
had doubtless led to his being pestered with constant
applications of the sort. Put under the circumstances
it was hardly worth while to taunt his antagonist with
soliciting favors winch he in turn had half promised to
grant and had wholly neglected to perform. Theobald
added that he would never have troubled the public with
these facts, had not the insinuation been industriously
circulated to hurt his interest, in the subscription for his

329

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

' Eemarks on Shakespeare ' which was shortly to appear,
and for the play which was designed for his benefit at
Drury Lane the following week. He concluded with an
allusion to Pope's habit of personal attack. " It is my
misf ortune," he said, " I can boast of but a very scanty
interest and much less merit ; and consequently both are
the more easily to be shocked. I had no method but this
of appealing to those many, whom I had not the honor
of approaching for their favor; and of humbly hoping
it the rather, because all my poor attempts in writing
are calculated to entertain, and none at the expense of
any man's character."

No one is likely to deny that Theobald was fully jus-
tified in setting his conduct in a proper light before the
public. It was natural that he should object to being
held up to general reprobation as exhibiting ingratitude
for favors he had never received. The account just given
of the circumstances was never controverted nor even dis-
puted. But also the accusation itself was never retracted.
If anything, it was strengthened rather than weakened
in the editions of 4 The Dunciad ' that followed. In the
second octavo following the quarto of 1729 Pope paraded
the remark of Theobald that he had for years been en-
gaged in the study of Shakespeare as a full confirmation
of the truth of his own original assertion that the design
of bringing out a treatise of the character he had pro-
duced had been carefully concealed. " Which he was
since not ashamed to own in a ' Daily Journal ' of Nov.
26, 1728 " was the inference Pope drew from that letter.1

1 Note to line 106 of Book I. The note is not in modern editions.
This part of it first appeared in the Gilliver octavo of 1729.

330

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

This interpretation of his opponent's words would never
have occurred to any one else than the poet. But the
cool assumption that a man who may have been working
for years upon the text of an author is under obliga-
tions to contribute the results of his labors to another,
with little recognition and no compensation, struck even
him upon reflection as one which would not commend
itself to the popular intelligence ; and even if it possibly
did so to any person, the revenge taken would seem al-
together out of proportion to the offence. Accordingly,
in the so-called second edition of that year, which ap-
peared in November, the note was revised. A statement
was added to it that satisfaction had been promised to
any one who could contribute to the greater perfection
of the work. Further, in all the editions after the quarto
an insinuation was conveyed — there was no direct asser-
tion to that effect — that Theobald had been concerned
in the outcry raised in the press that Pope had joined
with the publisher to promote an extravagant subscrip-
tion. These, it was intimated, were the reasons which
had lifted him into his accidental pre-eminence as hero
of the poem.

The occasion of all this manipulation of the notes was
the contempt which Theobald had naturally expressed
for the claim that he was bound to render the assistance
for which Pope had advertised. On this point he had
expressed himself with a distinctness not to be mistaken.
In so doing he had incidentally disclosed the nature and
extent of the studies which had fitted him for th(4 task
he had undertaken. " It is a very grievous complaint
on his side," he wrote, " that I would not communicate

331

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

all my observations upon Shakespeare, tho' he requested it
by public advertisements. I must own, I considered the
labor of twelve years' study upon this author of too much
value rashly to give either the profit of it to a bookseller
whom I had no obligations to ; or to the credit of an ed-
itor so likely to be thankless. I '11 venture to tell Mr.
Pope that I have made about two thousand emendations
on Beaumont and Fletcher ; and if he should take it in
his head to promise us a correct edition of those poets,
and require all assistances by his royal proclamation, I
verily believe I shall be such a rebel as to take no notice
of his mandate." l This was the shameless avowal of
his concealed design of which Pope spoke.

There were other passages in the communication of
April 17 which were not calculated to allay any irrita-
tion which the poet felt. In none of his replies had
Theobald been content to stand merely on the defen-
sive. He regularly proceeded to furnish further illus-
trations of his satirist's incapacity as an editor. Pope
had constantly criticised his antagonist for what he
called word-splitting, for dwelling at length upon min-
utias that were of the least possible consequence. It
was easy for Theobald to retort that his opponent
had set out to discharge the duty of an editor with
hardly even aiming to understand his author himself,
or with having any ambition that his reader should;
or when he did aim to understand he had shown
such a happy facility in misapprehending the mean-
ing that he had explained it into nonsense.

In exemplification of this charge he pointed out the

i Daily Journal, Nov. 26, 1728.

332

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

erroneous, not to say ridiculous, definitions which had
been given of reechy, germins, and element.1 But in
this letter there were four emendations which are now
accepted in all or nearly all editions of Shakespeare.
For two of them Theobald subsequently gave the credit
to others. They are worth noting here, not merely for
themselves, but because they explain the impression he
made upon his immediate contemporaries, and the fact
that he was so loncf enabled to hold his own against the
virulent enmity of the most influential man of letters of
his time. The passages, as given here, are taken from
Pope's edition ; but in every case but one they present
the reading which had been handed down from the
earliest impressions. The unintelligibility of the origi-
nal finds its counterpart in the felicity of the emenda-
tion. We get in consequence from them, as we can in
no other way, a conception of the sagacity and ingenuity
which have brought the text of Shakespeare out of its
confusion into the comparative clearness in which we
find it to-day.

The first extract is from ' Measure for Measure.' In
this the Duke is represented as addressing the procurer
in these indignant words :

" Say to thyself
By their abominable and beastly touches
I drink, I eat away myself, and live." 2

The utter incomprehensibility of "I eat away myself"
of the last line vanishes at once in the emendation con-
tained in tli is letter, —

" I drink, I eat, array myself, and live."
1 See page 91. 2 Act hi., scene 2.

333

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

In his edition Theobald ascribed this most felicitous of
corrections to his friend, Hawley Bishop ; but the next
one, even more puzzling, is entirely his own. It occurs
in the quibbling dialogue that goes on between Sir
Andrew Aguecheek and Sir Toby Belch, and runs as
follows in Pope's edition:

" Sir Andrew. O had I but followed the arts!
Sir Toby. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
Sir Andrew. Why, would that have mended my hair?
Sir Toby. Past question, for thou seest it will not cool my
nature." 1

It is not always an easy matter to get at the meaning
of Shakespeare's quibbles, even when they are given as
he actually wrote them. This last reply of Sir Toby's,
however, might have remained incomprehensible to the
present day — we are all wise after the event — had not
Theobald changed " cool my nature " into " curl by
nature."

The next two emendations belong to 4 Love's Labor 's
Lost.' The first occurs in Biron's humorous denuncia-
tion of the god of love, whom he describes as

" This signior Junio, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid."2

" Signior Junio " was Pope's substitution for the " sig-
nior Junios " of the original authorities. Theobald,
following a hint of a friend, as he told us later, changed
it here into u senior-junior," corresponding to the follow-
ing " giant-dwarf." It is the reading generally followed
in modern editions ; but singularly enough he himself
discarded it when he came to publish his own, under the

1 Act i., scene 3. 2 Act iii., scene 1.

334

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

notion that there was a possible allusion to a char-
acter Junius in Beaumont and Fletcher's • Bonduca.'
But to this same play he contributed an emendation
which brought clearness to a passage previously wrapt
in obscurity. Furthermore, it was a correction in exact
consonance with the character of the speaker. It is
found in the conversation which goes on between the
curate Nathanael and Holofernes, the representative of
the pedant, both in the modern sense of that word and
in the Elizabethan sense of fc schoolmaster.' The latter
finds fault with certain love verses which have been
read. They lack the graces of Ovid, he says. " Ovidius
Naso was the man," he adds. " And why, indeed, Naso,
but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy ?
The jerks of invention imitary is nothing. So doth the
hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his
rider." 1 This was the way the passage read in all the
original authorities. So it appeared in the editions pre-
vious to Theobald's. In them it was passed over in
silence, either because it was unnoticed or could not be
comprehended. " Invention imitary " was certainly a
puzzle. Yet all difficulties disappeared the moment the
passage was printed as it appeared corrected in this
communication:

'l Why, indeed, Naso, but for smelling' out the odoriferous
flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is nothing; so
doth the hound his master, etc.

But though Theobald replied to the attacks made

upon his conduct as a man, he never made any attempt

to correct the absolutely false statements made about

1 Act i\ .. scene 2.

335

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

him as a writer. It would be a tedious and unprofitable
task to hunt down all the misrepresentations with which
the notes to * The Dunciad ' swarm. Yet one must be
followed up, partly because of its bearing upon the sub-
ject, and partly because it illustrates both the intellec-
tual greatness and the moral obliquity of his adversary.
In a passage of peculiar brilliancy, only part of which
appears in modern editions of the poem, and that too
dissevered from its proper context, Pope attacked Theo-
bald as a commentator. He represented him in his
apostrophe to the goddess of dulness as thus speaking
of himself:

" Here studious I unlucky moderns save,
Nor sleeps one error in its father's grave,
Old puns restore, lost blunders nicely seek,
And crucify poor Shakespear once a week.
For thee 1 dim these eyes, and stuff this head,
With all such reading as was never read ;
For thee supplying, in the worst of days,
Notes to dull books, and prologues to dull plays;
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,
And write about it, Goddess, and about it." *

It has been found very easy in these latter days to un-
derrate Pope's genius. Those who do so may felicitate
themselves that they are free from any possibility of
being exposed to its attack. The justice of the lines
here given is not in question ; it is the wit which excites
admiration, and in one sense the wisdom. Can a more

1 Dunciad of 1729, Book 1, lines 161-170. Lines 5, 6, 9, 10, are in
Book 4 of modern editions, lines 249-252, the rest have disappeared.
The eighth line refers to Theobald's notes to Cooke's Hesiod, and his
prologue to James Moore-Sinvthe's comedy of ' The Rival Modes.'

q Q /';

i)O0

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

vivid picture be drawn than is found in them of that
plodding but unintelligent industry which piles up heaps
of explanatory matter upon points which present no
difficulty, and cumbers a classic with a fungous growth
of annotation in which the work of the author is almost
entirely lost in the inanities and trivialities of the com-
mentator? The justness of it, to be sure, as a criticism
of Theobald's labors can be estimated from the fact that
the part of it which is retained in modern editions now
applies to Bentley.

Pope was not content with letting these lines stand
for themselves. In the enlarged editions of ' The Dun-
ciad ' he added a comment to the one which represents
poor Shakespeare as being weekly crucified by Theobald.
44 For some time," he wrote, " once a week or fortnight, he
printed in ' Mist's Journal ' a single remark or poor con-
jecture on some word or pointing of Shakespear." Both
the line and the note have disappeared from regular edi-
tions of i The Dunciad.' Only occasionally are they
now found in the commentary upon the poem. But
the statement here made has been constantly repeated.
From that day to this there has hardly been a reference
to Theobald's course, there has hardly been even a cur-
sory account of the controversy in which he became
engaged, in which he lias not boon represented as steadily
annoying Pope by these repeated reminders of his4ack of
diligence or lack of capacity. Again and again have we
been told of Theobald's weekly or fortnightly contribu-
tions to ' Mist's Journal.' It was malignity, it is implied,
that tli us Led him to disturb the poet's peace. Hence
it was natural, if not justifiable, for Pope to show anger.

22 337

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Such are the statements. What are the facts ? The
articles that Theobald himself sent to ' Mist's Journal '
from the date of the publication of his criticism of
Pope's edition of Shakespeare to the publication of
these lines representing him as crucifying poor Shake-
speare once a week, were just one. This one, further,
contained but a single emendation, and even that came
in incidentally. Add to this one other communication
— that of March 16, 1728 — which was sent to that
newspaper not by Theobald, but by a friend of his, in
all probability, however, with his consent. In this were
found several noted corrections. Consequently, all his
contributions to ' Mist's Journal ' containing remarks on
the text of Shakespeare, whether furnished directly or
indirectly, amounted to precisely two. The columns of
that paper will be searched in vain for any further justi-
fication of the assertion made in Pope's note. In fact,
up to the date of the suppression of that journal in Sep-
tember, 1728, all the communications of Theobald of
any sort which appeared in it, during those years, reach
the exact number of three.

Pope himself came to feel that his note needed some
qualification. So in the second edition of 4 The Dun-
ciad' of 1729, he added a few further words in regard
to Theobald's contributing some single remark or poor
conjecture on Shakespeare. These, he said, were made
" either in his own name, or in letters to himself as from
others without name." 2 Pope perhaps meant to say
"letters from himself to others without name." At

1 Note to line 162 of Book 1, 2d ed. of 1729, p. 75. The note is not
in modern editions.

338

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

least this is the only way the remark can be reconciled
with the facts. But alteration of such a sort would
not have made the statement itself true ; it would only
have made it less extravagantly mendacious. Even
were we to include Theobald's contributions during these
years to all the journals on the subject of Shakespeare,
we could add but three articles more. Of these latter
but one appeared before the publication of ' The Dun-
ciad • ; the two which followed that poem were called out
by Pope's attacks upon himself.

The account just given conveys a good idea both of
Pope's truthfulness and of the innocent and unsuspect-
ing faith in it which has been exhibited by his editors
and biographers. Modern impressions about Theobald
have been derived almost wholly from the assertions of
the poet. Of several things written or done by him suc-
ceeding generations have derived their knowledge from
the notes to * The Dunciad ' ; and it is knowledge per-
verted by misrepresentation and misquotation so as to
make him seem to think and feel altogether differently
from what he actually thought and felt. The examples
already given — and they could be multiplied largely —
prove conclusively that no one would or could ever get
a proper conception of what Theobald said or did on any
occasion from the account of it given by Pope after the
original communication, containing the exact words, had
[msscd from sight and memory in the oblivion which
usually overtakes everything which is con lined to the
columns of a newspaper. These calumnies have re-
mained uncontradicted in every edition of Pope from
the earliest to the latest, including even one so gener-

339

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

ally hostile to the poet as that of William Lisle Bowles.
The lies have now got so great a start that it is simply
hopeless to expect that the truth will ever overtake
them, so far at least as the belief of the general public
is concerned.

During the whole of 1729 and 1730 Theobald, as we
know from his correspondence, was busily occupied in
the study of Shakespeare's text. Meanwhile the desire
widely entertained that he should himself edit the works
of the dramatist began to show signs of possible realiza-
tion. The difficulties in the way were gradually sur-
mounted. The exclusive possession by any one of the
right to print the text was first doubted, then denied.
When it came to be carefully considered, it had to be
abandoned. Still this result was reached slowly. It
was not till the latter part of 1729 that Theobald seri-
ously contemplated bringing out an edition of the plays.
It is evident from his words that it was then oi\\j a
possibility, not a certainty. " I know you will not be
displeased," he wrote to Warburton, "if I should tell
you in your ear, perhaps I may venture to join the text to
my * Remarks.' But of that more a little time hence." l
By the following March what seems a definite decision
to that effect had been reached. In a letter belonging
to this month he informed the same correspondent that
it was necessary now to inform the public that he in-
tended to give an edition of the poet's text along with
his corrections.2

Yet even then it is clear that all obstacles had not

1 Letter of Nov. 6, 1729, Niehols, vol. ii. p. 254.

2 Ibid. p. 551, letter of March 10, 1730.

340

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

been removed. Possibly the negotiations between the
various publishers to carry out the object in view had
hung fire. There may have been doubts as to the legal-
ity of the proceeding. At all events it was not until
November, 1731, that Theobald entered into a contract
with Tonson for the publication of the work. With his
house five others were joined. It is evident from the
arrangement then made that he had done a ffreat deal
towards the performance of the task ; equally evident
that lie did not fully appreciate how much more remained
to be done. The completed work, it was then agreed,
was to appear the following March ; it did not come out
till nearly two years after the time fixed upon. These
successive changes of plan necessitated a delay which
turned out in each instance much longer than had been
anticipated. It further exposed Theobald to the charge
of extorting money from subscribers without designing
to give them anything in return. But he was too thor-
oughly a scholar to hurry anything crude into the world,
and preferred the reproach of being behindhand in doing
what he set out to do to the regret he would feel for
haying done it unsatisfactorily. That he was sensitive
to the charge, however, there is no question. In writing
to the antiquary, Martin Folkes, informing him that hav-
ing now signed articles with Tonson, he was preparing to
put out as correct an edition of Shakespeare as lay in
his power, he expressed the conviction that he would
soon convince the public as well as his friends that the
insinuations levelled against him were very unjust.1
In November, 1731, Pope read in his personal organ,

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 619, lcUrr of Nov. 17, 1731,

341

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the ' Grub-street Journal,' an item copied into it from the
* Daily Journal.' " We hear," were its words, " that Mr.
Theobald, being now entirely ready to give the public
an edition of Shakespeare's plays, with his remarks and
emendations, has articled with Mr. Tonson for publishing
the same in six volumes in octavo with all possible de-
spatch." * Pope could not well have been ignorant that
a scheme of some such sort was in contemplation. It
had in fact been more than once referred to in the ' Grub-
street Journal.' But he had pretty clearly been disposed
to look upon it as a remote possibility, very much as was
the publication of the translation of .zEsehylus which
was sometimes joined with it.2 Furthermore the name
of Tonson had never before been mentioned in connec-
tion with the edition. The announcement in consequence
took him completely by surprise. More than that, it
disturbed him profoundly. Apparently not only was the
work to come out soon but it was to come from the pub-
lishing house which had issued his own edition. This
put an entirely different aspect upon the matter. He
wrote at once in great agitation to Tonson to let him
know the truth. "I learn," he said, "from an article
published in a late daily journal that Tibbald is to have
the text of Shakespear, together with his remarks,
printed by you." He presumed that this was not so ; for
had it been, Tonson would in some way have acquainted
him with any plans of his own about the works of the
dramatist. Still, while he believed it no more than some

1 Grub-street Journal, No. 97, Nov. 11, 1731.

2 E. g., Grub-street Journal, No. 37, Sept. 17, 1730; also No. 40,
Oct. 8, 1730, in an article not improbably written by Pope himself.

342

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

idle report crept into trie news, or perhaps put into it by
Theobald himself, he was anxious to ascertain whether
there was any ground for the statement.

It was the younger Tonson who had then the manage-
ment of the publishing-house. It was to him that this
letter was addressed. He was in a somewhat ticklish
situation. Still, he contrived to temper the information
so as to make it as tolerable as possible ; he could not
make it palatable. He admitted the truth. Others, he
wrote in reply, were concerned in the text of Shake-
speare as well as himself. With these Theobald had
been in negotiation, and the work would be brought
out, whether he had anything to do with it or not. It
was for his own advantage to share in it ; it was for
Pope's advantage that he should be one of its printers.
Exactly how far this statement represented the precise
facts, it is not easy to tell nor necessary to determine.
The publisher, in order to give the most plausible look
to the transaction, clearly felt it incumbent to exercise
the strictest parsimony in the disclosure of the exact
truth. Pope had to accept the situation. He professed
indeed to be pleased with it. He should now have some
one among the printers who could be relied upon to
prevent his personal character suffering from falsehoods
such as had been vented by this villain of a Theobald
in his specimens and in letters concerning them.

It was characteristic of Pope that he immediately
began to devise schemes for the further annoyance of
the man he pursued with unrelenting hostility. To the
$lder Tonson, now retired from active business, he at
once wrote a letter. He was careful, however, to

343

THE TEXT OP SHAKESPEARE

enclose it unsealed to the younger Tonson, to be trans-
mitted by him to his uncle. The part designed for the
person to whom it was nominally addressed concerned
itself with certain matters about which he asked specific
information. The real reason for writing the letter was
contained in the part intended for the eye of the man
who was now the acting head of the firm. Pope thus
got an opportunity to suggest to him in an indirect way
a scheme which he did not care to propose outright.
He at first expressed surprise that any other proprietor
could be concerned in Shakespeare besides Tonson him-
self. " But," he added, " if an edition of the text can
be printed without his consent, and if the propriety to
this author be so wandering, I'm very sure, however
my edition or Tibbald's may sell, I know a way to put
any friend upon publishing a new one that will vastly
outsell them both (of which I will talk with you when
we meet) ; and not of this author only, but of all the
other best English poets ; a project which I am sure
the public would thank me for, and which none of the
Dutch-headed Scholiasts are capable of executing."1

The lure dangled before the eyes of the younger
Tonson, for whose consideration the proposal was really
designed, did not prove an attraction. He did not even
manifest any curiosity to hear further about the project.
His house had already gained a pretty clear conception
of what were Pope's notions of editing. He must have
been confident that any scheme was futile that aimed to
sell Shakespeare on any merits beside his own. Espe-
cially futile would be an edition of that author which

1 Pope's 'Works,' vol ix. p. 549, letter of Nov. 14, 1731.

344

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION

would permit Pope to make its pages largely a. vehicle
for the expression of his feelings about friends and foes,
through notes, after the manner of 4 The Dunciad.' So,
while he expressed himself as obliged for the compli-
ment of enclosing the communication to his uncle open,
he returned it under the feeling that it would look much
better to be sent to its destination as coming directly
from the writer himself. It was the politest of corre-
spondence ; but in this jockeying game going on be-
tween poet and publisher, the honors rested easily with
the latter. Pope found himself baffled at every point,
and his new scheme of editing Shakespeare was never
heard of again.

345

CHAPTER XVII

warburton's attack on pope

For the four or five years following the publication
of * The Dunciacl ' the Shakespearean war went on
furiously. It was, to be sure, but one of a number of
controversies that were set in motion by that satire, or
that gained from it additional vigor. For us, however,
it is the only one of importance. There is now a very
prevalent impression that it was a one-sided affair from
the outset. Such was very far from being the case.
Whatever the difference in the intellectual standing and
repute of the two men chiefly concerned, the real dis-
proportion between them in the contest was not so great
as it now appears to us. It certainly did not appear
great to their contemporaries. To them the principals
were far from being unequally matched. Theobald
could not pretend to a particle of Pope's genius. The
poetry he produced was at best respectable; it would
have been much more interesting if it had been worse.
On the other hand the superiority of his scholarship,
both in ancient and modern tongues, was incontestable,
as also his far more intimate acquaintance with Shake-
speare. When it came to a question in which knowl-
edge of this sort was involved, Pope was at a hopeless
disadvantage.

346

WARBURTOJSTS ATTACK ON POPE

There was one matter in particular in which this
form of his superiority was conspicuously manifest.
He exhibited a familiarity with older and obscurer
English literature drawn upon by the Elizabethan dram-
atists, which his antagonist made no pretension to
possess and in consequence affjected to ridicule. Theo-
bald saw early that if he hoped to understand many of
Shakespeare's allusions, he must consult the works
which were popular in Shakespeare's time, though then
long forgotten. This method of proceeding strikes us
now as the only rational one to follow; but apparently
it had hardly occurred to any one before, and by many
was not too highly thought of then. It excited the
derision of Pope and his partisans. He spoke contempt-
uously of Theobald's laboring to prove Shakespeare
" conversant in such authors as Caxton and Wynkin,
rather than in Homer or Chaucer."1 In his pointed
phrase he described these books as " the classics of an
age that heard of none." It was in reference to them
that he had represented Theobald as having stuffed

'* his head
With all such reading as was never read."

The truth of these words was not equal to their wit.
Unfortunately for Pope, it was the very reading that
had been read by a man far greater than himself. It
had been read by Shakespeare, and the one who set
out to illustrate Shakespeare was under the necessity of
reading it too, if lie had any expectation of understand-
ing what Shakespeare wrote. l>ut there was something

1 Note to line 102, Book 1, quarto of 1729. The note is not in modern
editions.

347

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

more than knowledge in which Theobald excelled his
adversary. He had manifested an acumen in dealing
with corrupt passages which the men who then fol-
lowed and have since followed Pope's lead in delight-
ing to call him dull have for obvious reasons refrained
from attempting to rival even remotely.

Of course there were those with no dislike for Theo-
bald, nor with any special regard for Pope, who were not
displeased with the satire directed by the poet against
the commentator. That peculiarity of our nature which
makes many of us find something not altogether disa-
greeable in the misfortunes of our best friends naturally
gave proof of its existence in the case of one towards
whom the attitude of others would be that of indiffer-
ence. Undoubtedly there were satirical references to
Theobald as king of the dunces which were heard in
conversation and crept occasionally into print.1 Yet it
must be said that outside of those produced by the circle
of Pope's devoted adherents, the number of these is sig-
nally few. It is manifest, during the years immediately
preceding the publication of his own edition, that Theo-
bald had a strong body of friends and sympathizers.
Naturally there would be included in it every one
who had himself suffered under Pope's attacks. The
number was no small one, and many belonging to
it were connected with the press. These kept up a
series of not altogether complimentary reflections upon
the poet, annoying even though far from destructive.

1 See, for illustration, a poem entitled • A New Session of Poets for
the Year 1730' in 'The Universal Spectator,' No. 122, Saturday, Feb. 6,
1730.

WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE

To a certain extent too, lack of effectiveness was made
up by frequency of fire.

Heavier onslaughts fell upon Pope from other quarters.
The veteran critic Dennis, covered with the scars of
scores of literary battles, to whom controversy indeed
was as the breath of his nostrils, plunged at once into
the fray. He followed the publication of * The Dunciad
Variorum ' of 1729 with some remarks upon that poem
in the form of a letter addressed to Theobald himself.
The very title-page of the pamphlet gives a conception,
though an inadequate one, of the spirit with which it is
animated. We are told in it that passages in the pre-
liminaries to * The Dunciad ' and in the preface to the
translation of the ' Iliad/ show their author's want of
judgment. Furthermore, original letters here printed,
written by several authors, including the poet himself,
prove the falsehood of Pope, his envy and his malice.
The title-page thus imperfectly indicates the nature of
the pamphlet. It will therefore excite no surprise to
find that Dennis terms the satirist a wretch,1 a little
envious, mischievous creature,2 a bouncing bully of Par-
nassus.3 These were merely the characteristic amenities
of the literary controversies of the times, and Pope cer-
tainly had neither by precept nor example used his influ-
ence to moderate their outspokenness.

Remarks of this nature wore therefore not in them-
selves surprising. But it did excite a good deal of
astonishment to have the old critic, whose hand had
been against every man's, break the unvarying record

1 Remarks upon The Dunciad, ]>. 9.

2 Ibid. p. 39. :! Ibid. p. 11.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of years by praising Theobald without stint. Of him,
his learning, his sagacity, his possession of that modesty
which always attends merit, he spoke in terms of highest
eulogy. The value to be attached to his opinion was dis-
tinctly impaired indeed by the peculiar estimate he pro-
fessed to take of the literary standing of Pope. Not
satisfied with exposing his malice, his impudence, his
falsehood, his want of honor, his habit of writing pan-
egyrics upon himself and having them printed in the
name of others, he endeavored also to establish his
utter ignorance of the poetic art. He styled him a
poetaster. This was not the way to produce confi-
dence in his own taste or judgment. Still it was not
the censure of Pope that caused wonder, but the un-
doubtedly genuine praise given to his opponent. When
a few years later Mallet attacked what he professed to
deem the petty drudgery of Theobald's labors, he did
not fail to express his astonishment at the tribute paid
to him in the treatise just described :

" For this dread Dennis (and who can forbear,
Dunce or not dunce, relating it, to stare ?)
His head tho' jealous, and his years fourscore,
Even Dennis praises, who ne'er praised before."

But the list of sympathizers with Theobald was by no
means confined to the personal or literary foes of his
antagonist. There were many who stood by him be-
cause they recognized that he was as much superior to
Pope as an editor as Pope was to him as a poet. It
included, in truth, all the intelligent and genuine ad-
mirers of Shakespeare, all who were anxious to have
his works brought out in the best conceivable shape.

350

WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE

His preliminary efforts towards the rectification of the
text roused the highest expectations of the completed
work. The single remarks and poor conjectures upon
some word or pointing of Shakespeare, as Pope termed
his emendations, had given him high reputation with
all competent to judge. On his part Theobald neg-
lected nothing that would ensure the success of his
undertaking. Not merely were his own labors stead-
fast and persistent, he sought aid from every quarter
from which he could hope to derive information which
would be of benefit in revealing the meaning or estab-
lishing the text. Upon special topics he consulted
specialists. Nor was he in want of volunteer assistants,
some of whom chose to remain unknown. None of
these men contributed much in comparison with him-
self; but to every one he made the fullest acknowl-
edgment of the service rendered.

But early in 1729 he fancied he had found a treasure.
Towards the end of 1726 — if the dates given are cor-
rect— the Reverend William Warburton, then an ob-
scure country clergyman, had visited London. Among
the many favors which he acknowledged having re-
ceived from Concanen, he particularly thanked him for
having introduced him "to the knowledge of those
worthy and ingenious gentlemen that made up our last
night's conversation.''1 This has sometimes been
spoken of as that weekly conclave of Pope's antag-
onists which owed its creation either to the poet's
imagination or his belief in his lying informers, and
its later acceptance to the credulity of his biographers.

1 Nichols, ii. 198.

861

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

It could not have been at any such gathering, even had
it a real existence, that Warburton was present; for at
the time indicated neither the treatise on the Bathos
nor ' The Dunciad ' had been published. But during
this visit to London he had met Concanen and Theo-
bald; and unaware then that his companions were
dunces, he had found their society particularly agree-
able. To the latter he had promised to send some obser-
vations he had been making on Shakespeare. When later
Theobald had become seriously engaged in the prepara-
tions of his corrections of the text, he was glad of the
assistance which Warburton on his part was glad to
render. As early at least as March, 1729, began an
active correspondence between them, which with some
intermissions was kept up until after the publication
of Theobald's edition in January, 1734.

Warburton's share in this correspondence has dis-
appeared. The letters on both sides were returned,
and we can rest confident that the friend of Pope took
care to destroy every vestige of his friendship with
Pope's rival. But as might be expected from his nature,
he was not disposed to be content with expressing his
views in private. With his usual vigor and impet-
uosity he took the field to defend Theobald, or rather
to attack Pope. To the 4 Daily Journal ' he sent three
communications containing emendations of Shakespeare
mingled with attacks upon Shakespeare's editor. These
letters are so curious and characteristic that they deserve
to be rescued from the oblivion which overtook them in
their own day. In that state they have remained ever
since. It was a repose which Warburton was very

352

WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE

careful not to disturb and Theobald was too high-
minded to break. So completely indeed was all knowl-
edge of them lost that neither during the prelate's life
nor during the century and a quarter which has elapsed
since his death has there ever been made to them so
much even as an allusion. As they still remain prac-
tically inaccessible to the vast majority of men, some
notice of their contents becomes imperatively necessary
in any history of Shakespearean controversy. Of course
they were anonymous. Had their authorship been
known at the time, we can rest assured that War-
burton, instead of enjoying as a legacy the copyright of
Pope's works, would have occupied one of the most
elaborate niches in his temple of infamy, as he called
'The Dunciad.'

The views expressed of Pope in these communications
take here precedence of his proposed emendations. The
attack upon the poet was marked by all of Warburton's
usual truculence and arrogance. The first of these
letters appeared in the 4 Daily Journal ' of March 22,
1729. In true clerical style it went for a text to 'The
Dunciad ' itself, and from it took for a motto this
slightly altered line:

"And crucify Pope's Shakespeare once a week."

The tone of the article was contemptuous throughout.
Warburton represented a friend of his, a pretty critic,
and one of the poet's hundred thousand admirers, as
objecting to his substitution of " Pope's " for " poor "
in the line just cited. A man, his interlocutor had
said, could not be supposed to defame himself. "But
23 353

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

experience teaches," rejoined the writer, "that there is
nothing more common than for men under the torture

to defame themselves, and that Mr. P was on the"

rack when the printer took his confession is plain
from his so basely traducing friend and foe without
distinction."

The second letter, which had the same motto, appeared
in the number for April 8. It was more personal in its
attack than the preceding, more injurious in its insinu-
ations, and more virulent in its tone. It opened with
the story, told by Cervantes, of a painter who agreed
with the burghers of a certain village to paint the king's
arms for the town house. He secured for this purpose
a good subscription and began the work. But finding
it grow upon him, and that he would make nothing of
it, he threw away his pencil in great disdain, returned
the money, and told his neighbors he had a genius above
tantas baratijas, "which literally translated means,
above such piddling matters." "In like manner,"
Warburton continued, " the late editor of Shakespeare,
with equal skill, tho' not with equal honesty (for I donrt
hear that ever he returned one penny of the immense
sum levied upon the public on this pretence), having,
after all his pains, left Shakespeare as he found him,
in great rage consigns over the province to piddling

T s, and returns to his primitive occupation of

libelling and bawdy ballad-making ; and after all this,
he has the insolence to talk of his hundred thousand
admirers."

The charge of profiting by the Shakespeare subscrip-
tion was one which so irritated Pope that he who was

354

WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE

known to have made it was never forgiven. But what
followed in this letter was even worse. His friend, the
pretty critic already mentioned, is represented by War-
burton as having cast his eye upon what he had so far
written. His indignation at once found vent. For
what purpose, he is reported as saying, "do you yet
foment your itch of writing against that great man?
I believe I can tell you enough effectually to cure it.

Mr. P no sooner saw your former paper than he

knew you at the first glance to be of the beggarly
brotherhood of half-a-crown-tale turners ; that you was
monstrously in debt; your lumber of a library almost
all pawned ; your tailor unpaid ; and that you have an
ugly trick of going supperless to bed. This with his
usual sagacity and contempt. But putting on a severer
brow, he swore a bloody oath, that if you still persisted
in the preposterous ambition of dining upon his name,
he would ram you down to eternal infamy in the most
dirty hole in the next edition of 'The Dunciad,' even

between Curll and L ."

The letter- writer — that is, Warburton — represented
himself as not having been terrified by the prospect
thus held out. This had led his friend to reason
with him more coolly. " ' What is it, ' " he said, " 4 that
you would infer from these errors you have pointed
out before us? Is it that Mr. P is no philoso-
pher nor poet? Alas, how fallacious is this way of
reasoning. You shall see me turn it directly against
you. Calumny and profaneness are two of the most
considerable branches of modern poetry, and Mr.

P 's very enemies must allow him to shine dis-

355

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tinguished in each.' ' Then his friend proceeded to
observe that no one was safe from the poet's base
and impious attacks. That every one must see "who
remembers nor sleep nor sanctuary could cover the
immortal Mr. Addison from an outrageous satire; who
remembers nor being naked or sick could secure some
unfortunate men from having their very miseries most
barbarously ridiculed without provocation in 'The Dun-
ciad ; ' who remembers, lastly, nor fane nor capitol could
screen that incomparable patriot and prelate, the bishop

of S y 1 from the blackest venom of his pen." These

were the parting words of his friend, and according
to Warburton they impressed him a good deal. "I
determined," he wrote, "to follow his advice and leave
the editor to the reflections of his own conscience, which
must needs be wonderfully regaled as often as the
memory of ' The Dunciad ' comes across it; which I pre-
dict, from the universal abhorrence I observe expressed
to it, will sink him lower than his own Profund, and
like Hercules' shirt last him to his funeral."

Warburton, however, could not prevail upon himself
to leave Pope entirely to the reflections- of his own con-
science. He returned to the charge in a letter in the
4 Daily Journal ' of April 18. In it he spoke of "the
abounding beastliness and obscenity" of 'The Dun-
ciad ' as contrasted with the wit and humor of the
' MacFlecknoe ' it imitated. His communication, how-
ever, was largely given up to attacks on readings in
Pope's edition. He ridiculed some of his alterations and

1 Hoadley. The whole passage is, of course, an adaptation of the speech
of Aufidius in ' Coriolanus/ act i., scene 10.

WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE

some of his explanations. He censured his change of
thrive or thrived, into three in 4 Timon ' ; 1 in 4 Othello,' 2
his adoption of Indian instead of Judean ; and in parti-
cular he found enjoyment in " that short nooky isle
of Albion," into which the poet had transformed in
4 Henry V.' 3 Shakespeare's " nook-shotten isle of
Albion." Besides two special emendations of his own,
he contributed an explanation of the following passage
in 4 Lear, ' in which Edgar, in witnessing his father's
miserable change of fortune, exclaims

M World, world, O world !
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age." 4

This was one of the feAV instances in which Warbur-
ton refrained entirely from chasing any of the fanciful
will-o'-the-wisp interpretations which were continually
leading him astray. It was so sensible that of itself it
would tend to make one doubt his authorship of the
letter; it is so all-sufficient that it seems hard to believe
that he should have been willing to accept for a moment
Theobald's change of hate into wait. Yet that he did
so for a time is a fact. In his edition Theobald made
an allusion to this letter. He observed that various
attempts had been made to give a meaning to the pas-
sage as it stood in the old editions ; but none of them
had been satisfactory. "Mr. Pope's mock-reasoning
upon it," he continued, "has already been rallied in
print, so I forbear to revive it; and the gentleman who

1 Act iii., scene 3. a Act v., scene 2.

3 Act iii., scene 5. 4 Act iv., scene 1.

357

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

then advanced a comment of his own upon the passage
has since come over to my emendation."1 But the
gentleman who had advanced a comment — whose name
Theobald was careful to conceal — very wisely went
back to his original interpretation when he came to pro-
duce an edition of his own.2

After Warburton had exposed to his heart's content
the shortcomings of Pope in the work he had edited,
he gave expression to certain reflections upon his ability
as a commentator and his character as a man. A few
sentences will give an idea of their general spirit.
"How great," he wrote, "the distance between rhyming
and reasoning. That a man should so far mistake his
talent! It must be owned he makes a pretty figure
enough in the paraphrasing a psalm, or burlesquing a
beatitude; but to meddle with these dull matters, see
what comes of it! . . . What now, reader, is to be
thought of this man, who has no other terms for the
whole body of his contemporary writers, than dunce,
blockhead, fool, which he rings changes upon in a most
outrageous libel, the disgrace of the good sense, polite-
ness and humanity of Great Britain ? " The contrast is
both amazing and amusing between the opinions here
expressed and those poured out later when " dear Mr.
Pope," as he was wont to speak of the poet, became
the object of a laudation as vigorous as had been his
previous vituperation.

In these three letters were contained also ten emenda-
tions of Shakespeare's text. They were Warburton's

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. v. p. 178.

2 Warburtou's Shakespeare, vol. vi. p. 96.

358

WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE

first published efforts in this line, and they display
fully the characteristics by which his later alterations
were to be distinguished. Most of them will be found
in his own edition. One of them he induced Theobald
to adopt ; two or three others, the saner intellect of that
editor refused to allow insertion into the text, though
he recorded them in the notes. There are some of
them, however, that he could persuade no one else to
adopt, nor did he adopt them himself finally. Hence
they have never found record. The following are the
emendations in the order in which they appeared in
print, — the generally received text being first given and
under it the proposed change.

Warburton's Letter of March 22, 1729.

1. Like the formal vice, iniquity.
Like the formal wise antiquity.

Richard III., act iii., scene 1.

2. Power i' the truth o' the cause.
Power in the ruth of the laws.

Coriolanus, act iii., scene 3.

3. Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings.

Present feats
Are less than horrible imaginings.

Macbeth, act i., scene 3.

4. What ! are men mad ? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop

Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'tvvixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinned stones
Upon the numbered beach ?

359

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

What ! are men mad ? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch and the rich cope
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and astroit stones
Upon the humbled beach?

Cymbeline, act L, scene 6.

5. Prologue to the omen coming on.
Prologue to the ominous coming on.

Hamlet, act i., scene 1 (in quartos).

Warburton's Letter of April 8, 1729.

6. When we fall,

We answer others' merits in our name,
Are therefore to be pitied.

When we fall
We answer : others merits, in our names,
Are therefore to be pitied.

Antony and Cleopatra, act v., scene 2.

7. Dido and her JEneas shall want troops.
Dido and her Sichaeus shall want troops.

Ibid, act iv., scene 14.

8. Embarquements all of fury.
Embarments all of fancy.

Coriolanus, act i., scene 10.

Warburton's Letter of April 18, 1729.

9. His silver skin laced with his golden blood.
His silver skin laqued with his golden blood.

Macbeth, act ii., scene 3.

10. The dead men's blood, the privy [pining] maidens' groans.
The dead men's blood, the prived maidens' groans.

Henry V., act ii., scene 4.
360

WARBURTON' S ATTACK ON POPE

The reading in ' Cymbeline ' of astroit for twinned,
Warburton seems to have abandoned of his own accord.
Not so with laqued for laced. He gave as a reason for
it that " laque is a kind of varnish of a ruddy color, used
to lay upon leaf-silver and white metals to give them a
golden tincture." Theobald, to whom he communi-
cated this emendation in a letter, did not deny the fact
of this use, though he probably disbelieved it; but he
assured his friend that the emendation was altogether
too recherchee.1 Warburton apparently did not insist
upon it. To the last, however, he stuck to his substi-
tution of Sichceus for ^Eneas. Hanmer, he induced to
insert it into the text; but on this point Theobald was
obdurate, though he was complaisant enough to let him
give in the notes his reasons for the proposed change.

Finally, it may be said that nothing shows more dis-
tinctly the essential difference in the characters of the
two men than the course taken by each with regard to
these published letters. With all his bravado Warbur-
ton had not the least inclination to come out openly
as the critic of Pope, still less as the assailant of his
actions. He saw to it that his light should be hid
under a bushel. "As to the three printed criticisms,"
wrote Theobald, "with which you obliged me and the
public, it is a very reasonable caution that what is
gleaned from them should come out anonymous; for
I should be loth to have a valued friend subjected, on
my account, to the outrages of Pope, virulent though
impotent."2 He was accordingly careful to preserve

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. &23.

2 Letter of Nov. 18, 1731, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 821.

361

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Warburton from the suspicion of having anything to
do with these letters. The change of "formal vice,
iniquity" into "formal wise antiquity" he would not
receive into his text; but he gave a long note in defence
of it, taken from the letter to the 'Daily Journal,'
but attributed to an "anon}Tmous corrector."1 So
also Warburton's attack upon Pope for his "short
nooky isle of Albion" is printed; but to the note is
appended, not the name of the author, but simply
"Anonymous."2

Warburton lived to attach himself to the man of
whom he had here spoken worse than ever did Theo-
bald, or indeed any of the writers satirized in * The
Dunciad.' For many years, in consequence, he must
have always had an uneasy feeling that the knowledge
of the authorship of these letters might come to light.
Had Theobald been a man of the same nature as the
poet or as himself, they would surely have been ex-
humed from the files of forgotten newspapers and spread
diligently before the eyes of men. But Warburton
doubtless felt confident that he could trust in a high-
mindedness which he himself did not possess, and that
his secret would not be betrayed. Still, he could hardly
have failed to experience a sense of relief when with
the death of Theobald died perhaps the only other
person besides himself who was acquainted with the
authorship of these letters.

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 446.

2 Ibid. p. 48.

362

CHAPTER XVIII

THE ALLIES OF POPE

Warburton's letters disclose a very common state
of mind which existed in regard to 'The Dunciad,' at
the time of its first appearance. It characterized many
who, like him, had not been made the subject of its
attack. They were so outraged by the virulence and
injustice of the piece that they failed to appreciate
its greatness. Whatever opinion men might entertain
about the malice which had inspired it, whatever dis-
gust they might feel at its occasional coarseness and
indecency, it was folly to deny that it exhibited not
merely wit, but at times poetical passages of the highest
order. The existence of these would be sure to cause
it to be remembered and read by posterity, long after
the controversies in which it had originated and the
persons who were concerned in them, had been for-
gotten. It is, however, a singular fact that he who has
just been found here denouncing the work as a disgrace
to the good sense, politeness, and humanity of Great
Britain should have become the one largely instru-
mental, according to his own account, in prevailing
upon Pope to execute the unhappy recast of the poem,
which, while preserving all its worst features, has dis-
tinctly impaired its excellence as a work of art and

363

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

has largely deprived it of its interest for succeeding
generations.

It is clear from the facts recorded in the preceding
chapter that at the outset Theobald had no lack of
friends, and indeed of influential friends. Men might
enjoy the wit and the personalities of Pope's satire,
but that was something quite different from regarding
it with sympathy and approval. Most of them knew
then, what almost every one has forgotten now, that in
the reviving of old controversies and in the setting on
foot of new ones he had been on this occasion distinctly
the aggressor. Most, of them also then recognized clearly
that it was the blow inflicted upon his self-love by a
perfectly just criticism that was the occasion, if not
the cause, of the outburst of wrath which had pro-
duced 'The Dunciad.' Even those who accepted relig-
iously Pope's view that he was acting simply on the
defensive, deplored the method he had taken to carry
on his warfare. From Rome, Lyttelton sent him in
1 730 an epistle in verse, in which he paid the highest
possible tribute to his greatness as a poet. None the
less did he urge him to refrain from staining " the glory
of his nobler lays " by writing satire. " Formed to
delight, why strivest thou to offend?" are words of
his appeal. Pope was pleased with the praise, but had
no disposition to follow the advice. He knew better
than Lyttelton where his strength lay. But the be-
lief in his assailing numerous persons without provo-
cation was widely prevalent. It was entertained by
men who were far from being ill-disposed towards him
personally. A very general sentiment was expressed

364

THE ALLIES OF POPE

by Swift's friend, Dr. Delany, in a letter to Sir Thomas
Hanmer. "I am surprised," he wrote, "Mr. Pope is
not weary of making enemies.''1

For a long time, in consequence, Pope was fighting a
solitary battle. So far was he from having it all his
own way, as is now commonly stated, against the
authors he had attacked that many months passed
before a single voice was lifted up publicly in his de-
fence. The fact was made the subject of comment by
Fenton in a letter written more than a year after the
original publication of 'The Dunciad.' He had visited
London in the summer of 1729. There he had met
Pope, and sent to Broome a report of the situation as it
was after the quarto edition had appeared. "The war,"
he wrote, " is carried on against him fiercely in pictures
and libels, and I heard of nobody but Savage and
Cleland who have yet drawn their pens in his defence."2
This was the same as saying that nobody had taken up
Pope's quarrel but Pope himself. It was pretty well
known then, and is perfectly well known now, that
Savage and Cleland were mere dummies, who signed
what he dictated or wrote what he inspired. Fenton
may have been unaware of the fact ; but he was plainly
not heart-broken over the news he communicated.

But this was a condition of things which could not
continue. No great writer fights long single-handed.
Like every man of genius Pope was certain to have
eventually a band of volunteers, proud to range them-

1 Letter of Dr. Delany to Hanmer, Dec. 23 (1731), in ■ Hanmer Corres-
pondence,' p. 217.

■ Pope*! ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 154, letter of Fenton to Broome, June
24 (1729).

365

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

selves under his banner, ready to wage war in his
behalf in the way that best suited their disposition or
befitted their character. It was merely a question of
time when they would come to his aid. In the years
that followed they came to his aid in increasing numbers.
Some of them were animated by that admiration and
reverence which genius always inspires in generous
minds. These addressed him in laudatory epistles.
They paid glowing tributes to his moral character as
well as to his intellectual greatness, for they believed
in all sincerity that he was actuated by the noble senti-
ments he professed. But these writers contented them-
selves with eulogizing the poet and the man ; they did
not feel it incumbent upon them to assail his enemies ;
or if they did so, indulged only in general reflections
without specific illustrations. One of the most notice-
able in this last-mentioned class was Young, who, ac-
cording to contemporary reports, hesitated for some
time on which side to range himself. In January,
1730, he published two poetical epistles addressed to
Pope on the authors, or rather the scribblers, of the
age; but he attacked them in a body, he mentioned no
names. In a sense he may be said to have reflected the
sentiment attributed to Swift that a poor poet was an
enemy to mankind, — an opinion which, if true, would
hardly have the effect of causing Swift himself to be
reckoned among its very ardent friends. But the high
moral tone pervading these epistles of Young was,
under the circumstances, more calculated to excite
amusement than carry conviction. It was somewhat
comic to find the heinous crime of writing for money,

366

THE ALLIES OF POPE

and not for immortality, dwelt upon by the dependent
pensioner of the opulent and great, who had celebrated
in terms of grossest adulation the virtues of the
most notorious social and political profligates of the
age.

Homage of this sort, though grateful to Pope, was
not enough. Besides having himself celebrated, he
wished his enemies assailed. When once the fact
became apparent, men were found eager to furnish this
kind of support. Around him in consequence gathered
a body of retainers, several of whom, though very far
from being dunces, he would have been the first to
stigmatize as such had they been enrolled in the ranks
of his foes. They stood ready to do for him any work,
no matter how despicable, in order to gain his favor or
to receive his bounty. They were prepared to join in
the hue and cry he raised against any one whom he had
a desire to harm. They were in some cases willing to
assume the authorship of whatever he wrote, which for
any reason he was disinclined to publish as his own pro-
duction. As the Shakespearean quarrel was but one of
a number of controversies in which Pope was concerned, .
it is not surprising to find that Theobald is not even
mentioned in some of these pieces. Welsted attacking
in turn, was more constantly an object of attack. But
an intenser and bitterer animosity was displayed by
Pope, and re-echoed by his partisans, against James
Moore-Smythe than against any other single person.
As it was out of all proportion to any offence alleged
to have been committed, it is manifest that some
other reasons than the ones ordinarily given existed for

307

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the peculiar virulence of the hatred entertained and
displayed.

It is only with those who concerned themselves with
the actors in the Shakespearean controversy that we
have to do here. Still of these there was a goodly
number. A few of them were respectable but some-
what shadowy nonentities like William Cleland, whose
name has already been given as appended to the Letter
to the Publisher prefixed to the quarto of 1729. Others
possessed more positive qualities. A quotation has
been furnished on a previous page from a work of the
Reverend James Miller, who achieved a doubtful suc-
cess as a playwright and an undoubted failure as a
clergyman. It was entitled ' Harlequin Horace ' and
was published in February, 1731. In this the author
not only indulged in fulsome praise of Pope, but seconded
Pope's attacks upon several of his enemies. Naturally
Theobald did not escape. Miller, seemingly uncon-
scious of his own status, spoke of him as belonging
to that middling class of poets for whom neither gods
nor men have respect. Still, he was assured that if he
had only stuck to being a pettifogger, he might have
turned out a dabster at that trade.1

It was incidentally a result of the publication of
Pope's satire that for a while the epithet of ' dunce ' came
to be adopted as a usual, if not the usual, term of abuse
which every writer, no matter how contemptible his
own abilities, felt justified in applying to his opponent.

1 In the ' Dictionary of National Biography ' Miller is credited with two
pieces, ' Vanelia,' and ' Mister Taste, the Poetical Fop,' an attack on Pope.
With neither of these did he have anything to do.

368

THE ALLIES OF POPE

If it could be used effectively against a man who had
shown himself the acutest of commentators, there was no
reason why it should not be extended to any one whom
it was for the interest of his adversary to disparage. It
is the hero of the poem who has mainly suffered in the
estimation of later generations from the employment of
the term. To some, though to a less extent, this was
the case in his own time. The men who hastened to
array themselves on the side of Pope affected to regard
Theobald as pre-eminently the dunce. For them he
typified the class, and his name was deemed sufficient
to denote it.

One of the most singular of the early examples of
this sort of reference to him can be found in a poem of
Paul Whitehead's. It was entitled ' The State Dunces '
and was duly dedicated to Pope. Whitehead aimed at
no such low game as men of letters or scholars. He
hated the administration, and above all, the man at the
head of it. Accordingly, this versifier found great satis-
faction in likening Sir Robert Walpole to Theobald.
The comparison he made is a striking illustration of
the recklessness with which the charge of dulness was
then flung about; but it is also evidence of the extent
to which the assertions in regard to individuals made
in 4 The Dunciad ' had come to be religiously accepted
by the adherents of Pope. It was in the following way
that this feeble poetaster assailed one of the ablest of
English prime-ministers :

" Amidst the mighty (lull, behold how great
An Appius swells, the Tibbald of the state."

24 B69

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

It must be admitted that a peculiar ill-fortune has been
the lot of the greatest of early Shakespearean com-
mentators. It was hard to be called dull by a man of
genius; it has been Theobald's fate to be called dull by
successive generations of dullards.

But of all these volunteer assistants the one of whom
Pope made special use was Richard Savage. It is hardly
right to call him a volunteer; from the beginning he
was pretty certainly in regular pay. There was noth-
ing he was unwilling to do in order to be able to style
himself a friend of Pope and to be supported by
his bounty. Savage is in truth one of the most des-
picable creatures that England has upon her roll of
authors. A villain of genius will have attached to
his personality a certain interest. But Savage was not
possessed of genius. He was merely a clever writer
who was one of the earliest and most successful in
getting the trick of Pope's manner. What he lacked
in genius, however, he made up in impudence, self-
conceit, and mendacity. By nature a scoundrel, by
profession a versifier, by inclination a libeller, he rose
on one occasion to the dignity of a murderer. Unfor-
tunately for his reputation, after having been convicted
and sentenced to death, he was pardoned. Accordingly,
he lived long enough to display to the world the whole
scope of his abilities and the full baseness of his char-
acter. Had he been hanged he might still be regretted,
not for what he was, but for what it could be supposed
he might have been.

All his achievements in other fields yield, however,
to the splendid effrontery with which he fastened him-

370

THE ALLIES OF POPE

self upon a woman of high position who had been noto-
riously unfaithful to her husband. Born in humble
circumstances somewhere, he perhaps did not know
where, of some persons he perhaps did not know whom,
he set out to provide himself with a satisfactory parent-
age of his own. He fixed upon the divorced Countess
of Macclesfield as his mother, and insisted that he was
her child by her noble paramour, Richard Savage, Earl
Rivers. To us there is something exceedingly comic
in the impudent audacity of this adventurer. To the
woman herself it was almost tragic. She paid dearly
for her criminality. Disavow as much as she might the
claim of this brazen impostor, she could never escape
from his relentless pursuit. She was persecuted during
life ; she was followed by obloquy after life had ceased.
On her death in 1753 the story of the diabolical malice
she had manifested towards her unfortunate son was
rehashed in the periodical literature of the time.1 As
late as 1777, when Savage's tragedy of ' Sir Thomas
Overbury ' was revived at Drury Lane, much fresh com-
ment on the astonishing heartlessness and cruelty of
this unnatural mother was once more set in motion in
order to excite the interest of the public in the play and
thereby increase the audience at the theatre.2

To Savage himself this particular lie was the happiest
invention to which his mind, teeming with fictitious
narratives about himself, ever gave birth. lie worked
it for its full value, and met with a degree of success

1 E. r/., Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xxxii. pp. 491, 523. See also
the same magazine for 1781, p. 4U0.

" E. (]., London Magazine, vol. xlv. p. 70, Feb. 1777.

371

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

which even in his wildest dreams he could hardly have
anticipated. His story was received as true by several
persons of influence. It furnished Aaron Hill an oppor-
tunity to display the abounding generosity of his nature
and his corresponding lack of sense. Still, his enthusi-
astic advocacy of the impostor's cause was probably not
so effective with the public as Pope's nominal accept-
ance of his claim. Not unlikely the poet in his inmost
heart disbelieved it; but he felt no objection to bestow
upon Savage the cheap form of alms which consists
of an endorsement. In a note to ' The Dunciad ' he
recited a story about James Moore-Smythe which bears
every mark of a lie framed out of the whole cloth. But
of its truth there was pretendedly no doubt in Pope's
mind, for the reason which he proceeded to give. It
was "attested," he said, with great gravity, "by Mr.
Savage, son of the late Earl Rivers."1 With such a
certificate to his birth it is no wonder that the "un-
natural woman," upon whose life this phenomenal liar
had fastened himself, should have played so prominent
a part in the literature of the century.

On his part Savage took care that the story, after it
had been launched in 1717, should never be withdrawn
from the attention of the public. In the latter part of
1727, while he was lying under sentence of death, a
catch-penny life came out, purporting to give some
hitherto unpublished and "very remarkable circum-
stances relating to the birth and education of that
unfortunate gentleman." In March, 1728, he was
pardoned, and in the following month he celebrated

1 Dunciad, quarto of 1729, Book 2, line 46; in modern editious, line 50.

372

THE ALLIES OF POPE

himself in a poem called 'The Bastard.' On its title-
page it was said to have been written by a son of the
late Lord Rivers, and it was "inscribed with all due
reverence to Mrs. Brett, once countess of Macclesfield."
This is far from being the only instance in which he
paid his respects to the mother he had adopted. In that
and in succeeding publications he took advantage of
every opportunity that arose to procure sympathy for
himself by proclaiming through the length and breadth
of the land his tale of woe, and by inveighing against
the cruelty, in disowning him, of the person he had
selected from among the frail women of England to bear
the reproach of having brought him into being. During
the greater part of his career he lived and thrived upon
his bastardy. He was as anxious to parade it before the
public as others are to keep the fact concealed.

The truth is that Savage lied so energetically, so per-
sistently, so profusely that it is not impossible he came
in time to believe his own story. To a large extent
he caused it to be believed by others, especially by
members of the literary class, who spread it far and
wide. Men in consequence were led to pity and to
relieve him, till they came to know him well, when dis-
gust for the meaner pride which followed the mean
fawning invariably took the place of compassion. Yet
he gained the success with which a lie, cleverly con-
cocted and stuck to unflinchingly, sometimes rewards
the perpetrator. He obtained the favor of a queen.
The story of his career lias been embalmed in our litera-
ture by a man of genius who strove to put the best face
he could upon what he himself was clearly compelled

373

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

to regard as a dubious character and to make the best
apology in his power for what in his secret heart he
could not but deem a discreditable life. His own
honest belief in the lying pretences of this adventurer,
his undoubting faith in the falsehoods the latter chose
to tell him of his career, gave them vogue with his con-
temporaries, and have partially secured their acceptance
with posterity. After Savage had ended his worthless
existence in prison where he should have spent his life,
his death was bewailed as a loss to letters. Never was
regret more wasted. Had he, in those days of liberal
hanging, met the fate he deserved, English literature
would never have missed a poem worth preserving for
itself or a line worth remembering.

This was the man who was at the time and had been
for some years in Pope's service. The poet found him
a useful tool. One redeeming virtue he had in the eyes
of his patron. It was a virtue of the intellect, and not
of the soul ; but so far as it went, it was sincere. He
was a genuine admirer of Pope. Upon his writings he
modelled his own style ; and whatever merit there is in
his verses is due to his success in imitating the man he
regarded as his master. Furthermore, he had one quali-
fication, or rather lacked one qualification which made
him eminently fit for the duties he was called upon to
perform. He was not embarrassed by the possession of
the slightest moral scruple. This fact, advantageous
as it was in certain ways, was believed to have led his
patron not infrequently into mistake. There was cer-
tainly a general impression that Savage reported to
Pope what he could hear; and if he could hear noth-

374

THE ALLIES OF POPE

ing, what he could invent. An early distinct allusion
to him of this sort appears in a remark of Concanen
in his Dedication to the Author of 'The Dunciad,'
prefixed to the collection of pieces which had been
produced by the publication of the 'Miscellanies.'
Mention was there made of the spies and informers with
whom Pope had the weakness to associate. These,
when they could not furnish him with real intelligence,
were obliged to keep up his opinion of their diligence
by conjectures and inventions. Hence it had happened
that many who had never cast any reflections upon
the poet had been assailed in his satire ; while others who
had been foremost in proceedings of this sort had escaped.
There is plenty of evidence as to the suspicion enter-
tained of Savage as a tale-bearer and betrayer of the
confidence of his friends, though some at first were dis-
posed to give him the benefit of the doubt. Among
these latter was Cooke. When in 1725 he brought out
his ' Battle of the Poets, ' he represented Dennis, while
ranging over the field, as seeing approach

" The form of one that was or seemed a spy."

The seeming spy was held up; but to the redoubtable
critic, Savage cleared himself from suspicion. The
excuse he gave was accepted and he was even dismissed
with praise. P»ut when the recast of this same poem
appeared in 1728 his reputation for rascality had become
pretty thoroughly established among his previous asso-
ciates. No quarter was shown him in consequence.
This time the critic sees

" The form of one that seemed and was a spy."

375

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Before the uplifted cane of Dennis, Savage confesses
his character, his employment by Pope, his conduct
towards those who placed their trust in his honor:

" Before a friend professed they know no fear,
But trust their secrets to a faithless ear ;
I watch their motions and each word they say ;
And all, and more than all I know, betray;
In kind return he cheers my soul with praise,
And mends, when such he finds, my feeble lays." J

The belief about the peculiar relations existing be-
tween Savage and Pope is not unfrequently alluded to
in various publications of the period, and sometimes
directly asserted. ■ The Dunciad Variorum ' was fol-
lowed the next month b}^ a reply called 'The Curliad.'
This owed its existence, as might be inferred, to the
publisher from whose name it received its designation.
On the title-page was the following amiable reference
to Savage and his intimacy with Pope:

" O may his soul still fret upon the lee,
And nought attune his lyre but bastardy.
May unhanged Savage all Pope's hours enjoy,
And let his spurious birth his pen employ."

This belief did not die out with the progress of time ;
in fact it continued until the man, whose presence could
not be endured in London, was induced to go into a
temporary exile from which, to the undoubted relief of
his acquaintances, he never returned.

There is a very forcible exhibition of the attitude
taken in this matter by Pope's adversaries as late as

1 Cooke's 'Tales, Epistles, Odes,' etc., ed. of 1729, p. 132.

376

THE ALLIES OF POPE

1735. In writing satire Savage followed in' the foot-
steps of his master; and as satire does not necessitate
the possession of the highest poetic mood, he accom-
plished in it the best work he ever did. A poem of
this nature came from his pen in 1735 and was entitled
' The Progress of a Divine. ' It brought him into con-
flict with Henley. In his weekly paper the latter
stated with precision the relations which were cer-
tainly believed by large numbers to exist between the
writer of the satire and his poetic patron. "Richard
Savage, Esq.," he wrote, "was the Jack-all of that ass
in a lion's skin; he was his provider; like Montmaur,
the parasite of Paris, he rambled about to gather up
scraps of scandal as a price for his Twickenham ordi-
nary; no purchase, no pay; no tittle-tattle, no dinner.
Hence arose those Utopian tales of persons, characters
and things, that raised by the clean hands of this
Heliconian scavenger the dunghill of ' The Dunciad. ' *

It was this man who was nominally responsible for a
prose piece which followed immediately upon the publi-
cation of * The Dunciad Variorum. ' It was a pamphlet
styled 4 An Author to be Let ' — a title by which Savage
;tppropriately, if unconsciously, described himself. It
was full of the grossest personal attacks upon the men
whom Pope regarded as his adversaries — Dennis,
Roome, Ralph, Moore-Smythe, Concanen, Welsted, and
others. It bears throughout the marks of Pope's in-
spiring mind, and his connection with it went some-
times much further than inspiration. In fact no small
number of the remarks contained in it were adopted by

1 The Hyp-Doctor, No. 232, April 29, 1735.

377

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

him in later editions of 'The Dunciad.' Some even
are found in the edition which had appeared about a
month before. The publisher's preface in particular
can be said with reasonable certainty to have come from
the hand of the poet. Given in that was an account
of the origin and occupation of various writers of the
time. Dennis was the son of a saddler. Morley had
a younger brother who blacked shoes at the corner of
a street. Roome was the son of an Anabaptist under-
taker. Cooke was the son of a Muggletonian teacher
who kept a little obscure ale-house at Braintree in
Essex. Attacks of this sort coming from the son of
a linen-draper and put in the mouth of a professed
bastard are considered b}' some to be exceedingly
crushing.

In this publication Theobald did not occupy a spe-
cially prominent place. There are to him but two
references; unless we consider as such a possible allu-
sion to the posthumous works of Wycherley which were
to appear in a few months under his editorship. Like
the rest, however, his occupation came in for a scoring.
" Why would not Mr. Theobald continue an attorney ?
Is not word-catching more serviceable in splitting a
cause than in explaining a fine poet?" He was spoken
of again in the main piece. In this, which purported
to be the confessions of Iscariot Hackney, the writer
pretends to disclose the dirty practices of all sorts in
which he has been concerned. Among other things
he remarks that he has " penned panegyrics in ' Mist '
on Rich's pantomimes and Theobald's 'Shakespear
Restored.' "

378

THE ALLIES OF POPE

This pamphlet it was clearly the original intention
to follow up with others of a similar character. It
appeared on the title-page as No. 1. But it never had
a successor, though on the occasion of Welsted and
Smythe's Epistle to Pope, one was once threatened.1 It
itself, however, was reprinted later. But it was mani-
festly too cumbrous to accomplish the objects which
Pope had in view, and his indefatigable activity soon
led him to resort to other measures. In his public
utterances he always made it a rule to speak disdain-
fully of the newspapers. In particular, no one ever
pretended to hold in more contempt than he the party
organs on each side. But no one also was more keenly
alive to the advantage of using these same publications
in his own interest. It is not easy to say to what
extent the articles which appeared in them during the
year 1729 were written by himself, or by others under
his supervision or at his instigation, or were the volun-
tary effusions of unknown admirers. But occasionally
his hand can be directly traced, though it is needless
to add that he took care that any positive evidence that
he had an actual part in the controversies should not
be forthcoming.

In the very same number of ' Mist's Journal ' 2 which
contained the letter signed W. A., which he so bitterly
resented, there appeared a communication which owed
to him its inspiration, and in all probability, its actual
composition. The conductor of the paper inserted both

1 See advertisements in 'Grub-street Journal/ May 27, June 4, June
n, and June ih, 1730.
a Jane 8, 1729.

379

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

these articles as representing the two different sides of
the controversy then going on, and introduced them
with the assertion that he himself was not concerned
in the quarrel which had led to the dire division then
distracting the empire of wit, and that he intended
to preserve a strict neutrality. The communication in
Pope's interest was a pretendeclly official account of
a meeting of the general court of the Knights of the
Bathos, with a report of their proceedings and the reso-
lutions they had adopted. It was signed by "J. M. S.,
Speaker." There are several allusions in this pre-
tended report which it would perhaps be impossible now
to explain. The whole, however, clearly expressed the
poet's belief about certain persons and their doings, or
at any rate his suspicions. The general object of the
meeting, according to it, was to suppress the exorbitant
power of the Pope. One of the resolutions ordered the
composition of a key to 'The Dunciad.' This was to
be prepared by Mr. C k (? Cooke) and to be pub-
lished by Mr. C 1 (Curll). Further a committee of

secrecy was appointed consisting of Mr. M., Mr. A. H.,
Mr. W., Mr. 1). and the Rev. Mr. W. Most, if not
every one of the persons indicated by these initials
can be identified. The Rev. Mr. W. was probably
Woolston. The authorship of the articles written by
Warburton was certainly not known. He was then
dwelling at a long distance from London, and had not
in all probability been even heard of at that time by
the poet.

Other pieces appeared in the newspapers on Pope's
side during the course of this year. Some of them

THE ALLIES OF POPE

exhibit his peculiar vein, but it would be unjustifiable
to attribute them to him merely on the ground of inter-
nal evidence of this nature. Among them, however,
is a curious article which came out in ' Mist's Journal ' x
three weeks after the publication in that paper of Theo-
bald's proposals for amending Shakespeare. This pur-
ported to be an attempt at the correction of the song of
the hunting in 4 Chevy Chase, ' revised by the indefati-
gable pains of T. F., Gentleman. Its aim was to
render perfect a poem which was described as being
unquestionably the masterpiece in our language. The
writer professed that he had no intention whatever
to meddle with its meaning, but only "to touch the
genuine lection," and thereby give the work in its first
perfection. This was one of Pope's favorite phrases in
commenting upon Theobald's labors, and the pretended
emendations caricatured the method adopted by that
editor. Still as his method was exactly the same as that
of all scholars, the article which ostensibly purported
to come, and perhaps actually came from Cambridge
University, may have been aimed at Bentley.

But none of these agencies sufficed. During the
whole of the year 1729 Pope was fighting single-handed.
The men who were later to take up his cause had not at
this time come forward. It is clear that for a while he
felt his solitariness. The favor with which attacks upon
liini were received by the public tended to dispirit him.
At times jubilant, at other times he seems to have been
almost awed by the hostility he had evoked, and was
disposed to abandon all controversy and satire. He

! .fi.lv I.",, I7J!», No. 1C9.

:;si

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

told Fen ton in June of this year that for the future he
intended to write nothing but epistles after the manner
of Horace.1 To epistles of this sort he certainly hence-
forth devoted himself largely. But the strong bent of
his nature could not be overcome. Even in the ' Moral
Essays ' he produced, the satirical element was sure to
introduce itself, and in some became the predominant
feature. Nor in truth could Pope have failed to recog-
nize more and more distinctly, as time passed on, that
satire was a species of composition in which he was
signally fitted to excel; and though the consequent
propensity to indulge in it got him occasionally into
troubles out of which he wriggled with difficulty, yet
these annoyances were more than counterbalanced by the
reputation he acquired with all, and the dread he in-
spired in many.

The attacks upon him in the press after the publication
of the quarto of 1729 were persistent. They took usu-
ally the form of short paragraphs or epigrams, as well as
that of letters such as those which have been given as
coming from Warburton. To one whose sensitiveness
to criticism amounted almost to a disease, they were
peculiarly galling. The newspapers were indeed open
to him also, directly or indirectly ; but frequent resort to
them rested under fatal objections. He could not say
in them as much as he wished or what he wished with-
out appearing in person. To a man occupying his
position before the public no amount of space would
have been denied. But that very position rendered it
impossible for him to engage in controversy. Had it
1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 154, letter of Fenton to Broome, June 24.

382

THE ALLIES OF POPE

been otherwise, a course of conduct of this sort was one
to which he would have been utterly averse. He wished
to strike his enemies, real or fancied ; but he wished at
the same time to remain himself in darkness.

Furthermore, while the columns of the newspapers
were accessible to him, they were also accessible to
his opponents. He wanted an organ which would be
wholly his own, which should defend him and assail
his foes, but in which he himself would appear to have
no hand. In such a journal he could deal his blows
at pleasure, and yet disclaim responsibility for any
statements he made or any harm he wrought. An
undertaking of this character it seemed difficult, if not
impossible, to accomplish. It is another proof of the
consummate craft which Pope evinced in threading the
devious paths he laid out that he accomplished this
apparently impossible task; that he carried through
for years an enterprise originated in his behalf, devoted
mainly to furthering his interests, and yet all the while
remained concealed in the background, suspected indeed,
but not positively known. On Thursday, the eighth of
January, 1730, appeared the first number of his organ,
a weekly paper entitled ' The Grub-street Journal. ' It
lasted for eight years. In 1738 it was succeeded by
another, entitled * The Literary Courier of Grub Street,'
which lingered for a few months and then expired.

383

CHAPTER XIX

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

The origin of the ' Grub-street Journal ' is wrapt
in a mystery, or rather a mystification, which it is per-
haps hopeless to expect will ever be fully dispelled.
This is true at all events of many of its details. The
accuracy of statements that may, and indeed must be
made of Pope's connection with it is rendered incapable
of absolute demonstration in consequence of the secrecy
in which he shrouded all his operations. Though the
moving spirit that planned it, that informed it, and gave
it direction, he took care to keep himself as far as pos-
sible from being in any way identified with it. His
words about it imply ignorance where they do not ex-
pressly assert it ; for he was capable when hard pressed
of disavowing, or of seeming to disavow, that he had
any hand whatever in its conduct. He could even
affect to disapprove of it; and at one time went so
far as to apply to it, as did every one else, the erjithet
"low."

The result of this purposed concealment has been
that until a very late period Pope's relations to this
journal have either been ignored altogether or have
been treated as possessed of but little significance.
His earlier biographers, Ayre, Kuffhead, Dr. Johnson,

384

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

Joseph Warton and Roscoe, so far from mentioning
the paper, are seemingly unaware of its existence.
It has not been until comparatively recent years that
much beyond suspicion has been expressed that Pope
had any interest in it whatever. A half-century ago
Carruthers gave a brief but fairly accurate account, so
far as it went, of his contributions to the journal. Yet
the revelations then made seem to have wrought little
effect upon later writers. Even at the present day,
when a knowledge of the poet's tortuous practices has
become the common property of all students of English
literature, there is sometimes displayed a curious shrink-
ing from the conclusions to which the evidence almost
inevitably leads. The admission is made, in a guarded
if not grudging way, that the * Grub-street Journal '
was a paper for which he occasionally wrote. There
are indeed modern lives of the poet in which, no more
than in the early ones, is there even so much as an
allusion to its existence.

In spite of intentional mystification and occasional
affected denial, enough evidence still can be found
fairly to compel the belief that it was mainly to Pope
that the 4 Grub-street Journal • owed its conception
and creation. Without the promised aid of his pen,
and in all probability without actual contributions from
his purse, the paper could not and would not have been
set on foot. Never was a work of this sort undertaken
more distinctly in the interests of one man. It had
little reason for its existence save to celebrate the poet
and to assail the writers he, disliked or hated. To these
objects it was mainly devoted during the earliest years
25 SS5

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of its being. Not merely was its animus unmistakable,
but the manner of its manifestation was as unmistak-
ably Pope's. It reflected his views of everything and
everybody. It praised the men he praised and reviled
the men of whom he disapproved. The former were
the Parnassians; the latter were the GrubaBans, the
Knights of the Bathos, the gentlemen of the Dun-
ciad. These were subjected to attacks of every kind,
ranging all the way from virulent and unrestrained
vituperation to sneering depreciation or intentional
misrepresentation. Articles assailing his enemies or
supposed enemies found always an eager welcome.
Foes long dead were dragged from their graves to be
gibbeted in its columns. The moment any new per-
son presented himself who expressed some derogatory
opinion of the poet's writings or of his conduct, he
was at once singled out for disparagement, if not for
L calumny.

Furthermore, whatever praise was bestowed, outside
of that lavished on Pope himself and his immediate
friends, was reserved for those who came forward in
his defence; and the degree of commendation they re-
ceived was largely proportioned to the degree of viru-
lence they had displayed in railing at his opponents,
or to the degree of their ardor in eulogizing himself.
Special attention was given to such pieces, comments
were made upon them, extracts were taken from them,
and little limit was there to the praise they received.
Now and then the way for their favorable reception
was paved beforehand. Walter Harte, for instance,
brought out in January, 1731, a poem on Pope's side,

386

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

entitled 'An Essay on Satire, particularly on The
Dunciad.' Its utter commonplaceness was counter-
balanced in the poet's eyes by the fulsome flattery it
heaped upon him and his work. It had been seen by
him while in process of preparation. Months before
it came out a specimen of it was published in the
i Grub-street Journal ' 2 as a portion of a poem as yet
unfinished, and the author was urged to go on and
gratify the public with it in a completed form.

Still, Pope's efforts to conceal his connection with
the ' Grub-street Journal ' not merely imposed upon the
men who came after him, they imposed perhaps upon
the large majority of his contemporaries. Though the
fact was early suspected by the indifferent and openly
asserted by the hostile, it was pretty certainly never
believed at the time by the great body of his readers
and admirers, especially after his apparent denial.
From the outset he took pains to produce the impres-
sion that he had nothing to do with it whatever. " I
have just seen The Grub-Street Journal," he wrote to
Lord Oxford, "and disapprove it."2 This statement
was made four months after the paper had been set on
foot. He meant to have his correspondent understand
that this was the first time he had seen the periodical
itself; he left himself a loophole out of which to crawl,
in case of necessity, in the interpretation that could be
put upon his words that it was this particular number
of it which he had just seen.

Yet in this very number there was printed a commu-

1 No. 24, June 18, 1730.

2 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 208, letter of May 17, 1730-

387

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

nication from Pope himself, though it was introduced
as having been sent "by an unknown hand."1 It was
an attack upon the preface to the just published epistle
in verse which had been addressed to him by Welsted
and Moore-Smythe. It was followed the week after
by a further reply of his to the statements contained
in the poem itself.2 There are indeed plenty of articles
in the earlier numbers of the ' Grub-Street Journal '
which are unmistakably of Pope's composition and some
which can be shown to be his by evidence other than
internal. They ought strictly to be included in any
complete edition of his works, though it must be ad-
mitted that the nature of several of them would render
such a publication inadvisable. If shorn of their inde-
cency they would lose all the interest they possess. The
pieces indeed which Pope wrote from time to time but
did not care to be held responsible for, would fill a
volume respectable in size but not altogether savory
in character.

One of these contributions he himself republished
later, though in so doing he discarded about a fourth
of it as it originally appeared. This was the article
on the poet-laureateship. Eusden, the holder of that
office, had died on September 27, 1730. In a number
of the 'Grub-street Journal,' which appeared the fol-
lowing month, was an ironical dissertation on the com-
ing election of his successor. It described the rites and
ceremonies which, though too long discontinued, ought
to be observed and the qualifications which should
characterize the candidate to be chosen. The compara-

1 No. 19, May 14, 1730. 2 No. 20, May 21, 1730.

388

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

tive merits of Theobald, Dennis, and Cibber were sub-
jected to a pretendedly grave examination. The article
seemed to Pope too good to be let die unacknowledged.
He therefore published it in the volume containing the
pieces on his side occasioned by 'The Dunciad,' the
editorship of which was fathered upon Savage. Later he
included it among his authorized works. It is the only
one of his contributions to the ' Grub-street Journal '
which is retained in many modern editions purporting
to be complete. Yet there is not the slightest question
that all or nearly all the epigrams " in laud and praise of
the gentlemen of 'The Dunciad, '" which appeared in
the collection just mentioned, were of Pope's own com-
position. The same remark is true of the essays,
letters, and other occasional pieces relating to the late
war of the Dunces, found in the work. It was in this
newspaper organ of his that most of these came out
first. Several other of his contributions to it had a
place in volumes of his writings that were published
during his lifetime. Not a single modern edition, how-
ever, ventures to include all the pieces which their
author then openly acknowledged by printing them
among his works.

Even in printing among his acknowledged produc-
tions this piece on the laureateship Pope kept up his
usual practice of deception. It had originally appealed
in the number for November ID, 1730. When it was
republished by him not long before his death, the date
was changed to November 19, 1729. As in that year
the 'Grub-street Journal' had not COlfie into being, the
inference necessarily followed that it was not in that

389

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

paper that the article had appeared. The falsification
was in one sense a stupid one, it was so easy of detec-
tion. The ' Grub-street Journal ' did not exist, to be
sure, at the date specified; but Eusden, the laureate,
did. Consequently the essay on the selection of his
successor had no decent pretext for its own being.
Clumsy, however, as was the attempt at deception, it
sufficed then and has sufficed since. The year 1729
is found attached to this piece in all complete editions
of the poet's works, with rarely an attempt in any of
them to correct the falsehood in the place where the
reader finds the article, and in most of them without
an attempt to correct it anywhere.

The 4 Grub-street Journal ' purported to be the organ
of an assumed Gruba3an society. After a few num-
bers it set out to give a weekly account of its more
important transactions. This was a continuation of
the scheme of a regular report of the proceedings of
the so-called Knights of the Bathos which had been
earlier outlined in the article contributed to i Mist's
Journal.' x The headquarters of the society were repre-
sented as being at the sign of the Pegasus, vulgarly
called the Flying Horse, in the street from which the
paper derived its name. It affected to be devoted
entirely to the interests of 4 Grub-street ' authors —
4 Grub-street ' authors being the comprehensive title
given to all persons who were objects of Pope's ani-
mosity. Under the pretence of being their organ every
possible opportunity was embraced of turning them and
their productions into ridicule. The pretended secre-

1 * Mist's Journal/ June 8, 1728. See page 380.
390

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

tary of the pretended society, who took the name of
Bavius, was the nominal editor. Political disquisitions
were to be furnished by Mr. Quidnunc, and poetry by
Mr. Poppy. The journal was at first printed for
Roberts, a well-known publisher of the time ; but after
the fifteenth number his connection with it ceased, at
least publicly, for a long period. In his place a fictitious
Captain Gulliver was chosen as its bookseller; and his
name remained affixed to the paper during all the nu-
merous appearances and disappearances of other persons
who were concerned in its publication and sale. Captain
Gulliver was merely a pseudonym for Lawton Gilliver.

Like the other weeklies of the time the columns of
the * Grub-street Journal ' were largely filled with short
items of news, domestic or foreign, taken from the
daily papers. It was, however, the great number of its
essays, letters, and epigrams which caused it to stand
out distinctly from among its fellows. The suspicion
and sometimes the belief that Pope and his friends were
contributors to its columns attracted attention to it from
the beginning; and the pieces they wrote, virulent in
tone and often witty as well as malignant, must have
given it repute and circulation. They stood in sharpest
contrast to the other contributions in which the ability
to be sarcastic was in an inverse proportion to the
desire. While these communications were directed
mainly against the men who had incurred the poet's
hostility, they sometimes attacked those towards whom
he probably felt indifference. The paper early attained
a somewhat unsavory pre-eminence among the periodi-
cals of that day for the recklessness of its personalities

391

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

and the grossness of its scurrility. In its later career
it achieved also the seemingly impossible task of being
even more dull than it was abusive. Naturally it was
in constant collision with its contemporaries, whether
men or journals. Fielding, then engaged in the pro-
duction of dramatic pieces, was a frequent subject of
its attack. He in turn had no hesitation in expressing
with great distinctness his opinion of the character and
ability displayed in the conduct of the paper. In 4 The
Covent Garden Tragedy,' brought out in 1732, the
procuress tells the pimp in her employ that having
learned to read he has known how to write Grub-street
Journals. Later he denounced the writers for it as a
set of paltry, ill-natured, and ignorant scribblers without
learning, without decency, and without common-sense.
Who was this nominal editor Bavius? Upon this
point a certain degree of doubt exists. The modern
biographers of Pope unite in conferring this position
not upon one, but upon two persons. Maevius is joined
by them with Bavius. Such was pretty certainly the
case at the outset; but it did not continue so long.
They all unite further in making one of these two
the well-known botanist, John Martyn. It has indeed
occasioned a good deal of surprise that a man whose
life was mainly absorbed in the compilation of laborious
scientific treatises should leave for a moment pursuits
so congenial in order to take charge of a journal de-
voted largely to fulsome praise of Pope and persistent
detraction of his adversaries. Nothing but the fervor
of friendship combined with blindest admiration would
apparently account for such a course ; yet there exists

^92

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

no evidence of any intimacy between the poet and the
assumed editor. Not even does Martyn's name occur
in Pope's correspondence. Yet there seems no doubt
that for a time he was concerned in this journal. The
fact was directly asserted by his son in the account he
gave of his father's life. He, to be sure, clearly knew
nothing of the circumstances attending the origin of
the paper, which began its existence before he was born,
and scarcely anything of its peculiar character. Still,
he would not have said what he did without authority.
Furthermore there are occasional references to Marty n
in the contemporary papers with which the ' Grub-
street Journal ' came into conflict, notably Henley's
1 Hyp-Doctor. ' He was there designated as a botanist
and a snail-picker. On one occasion there was a
specific reference to " Mr. Gilliver's, Dr. Martin's and
Mr. Russel's Weekly Productions."1

In 1737 appeared a work in two volumes entitled
' Memoirs of Grub-street. ' It consisted of essays,
letters, epigrams, and poems collected from the first one
hundred and twenty-five numbers of this journal —
that is, up to June, 1782. To it was prefixed what
purported to be an account of the origin, history, and
province of the paper. Incidentally it bore likewise
hearty testimony to the noble motives by which all
engaged in carrying it on had been actuated. Through-
out no names were mentioned. The passages alluding
to Pope and his connection with the paper, where they
did not designedly give a wholly false impression, were
couched in language the manifest intent of which was

1 The 1 1 vp Doctor, No. If., March 23, 1731.

898

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

to half hide and to half reveal the truth. No great
faith can be placed in the trustworthiness of several of
the assertions found in this preface. Still, as in some
instances there was no motive to deceive, and certainly
nothing to be gained by deceiving, certain of the state-
ments made can be received with confidence in their
correctness. It is an unavoidable inference from what
was there said that Martyn gave up his interest in the
paper at the end of a year and a half. After his retire-
ment the conduct of the journal fell exclusively into
the hands of the other editor, who seems indeed to have
had the main charge of it from the beginning. He it
is who gave the account of it which is contained in the
preface just mentioned.

Modern biographers of Pope have adopted without
question the statement made by Martyn 's son that the
one joined with his father in the conduct of this journal
was Dr. Richard Russell. Richard Russell is the
common name of two physicians who flourished at that
time. The older and better known one was a graduate
of Leyden and became a member of the Royal Society.
In his day he attained considerable repute as the writer
of a noted treatise on the curative elf ects of sea- water ;
and he took a prominent part in the efforts put forth
to develop Brighton into a place of fashionable resort.
The other physician was a graduate of Rheims, and
practised his profession at Reading. He seems never
to have been a man of much more than local repute;
but in biographical dictionaries, even the most recent,
and in various other works he has been constantly con-
founded with his more eminent namesake. It is these

394

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

two persons rolled into one who have been regularly-
represented as the other editor of the ' Grub-street
Journal. ' There seems no reason to believe that either
of them had any connection whatever with the work.
Neither of them was a resident of London ; neither
of them could have any conceivable interest in the
undertaking.

At all events, if contemporary testimony can be
trusted, the man who had the main charge of the
4 Grub-street Journal ' was not a physician, but a clergy-
man. Internal evidence leads to the same conclusion.
Many of the articles which the paper published dealt
with subjects which were more or less of a theological
nature. Furthermore the dulness displayed in them
was not the dulness of a layman, but that of an ortho-
dox divine. The earliest references to the editor indi-
cate, however, only the name, not the vocation. He
was simply called Mr. Russel. In the secrecy which
was then sought to be maintained even so much of an
identification as this was not admitted. A contem-
porary periodical in the latter part of 1732 spoke of
Russel as the author of the 'Grub-street Journal.' To
this statement was given what appeared to be an official
denial. "Mr. H's affirmation," it said, "that Mr. R.
is the writer of the ' Grub ' is not only false in itself,
but likewise contrary to his own repeated assertions,
in which he has ascribed this paper to several persons
whom he has defamed with false and scandalous impu-
tations ; for which it is probable they may hereafter call
him to account."1

1 Grub-street Journal, No. 158, January 4, 1733.

395

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

There was always so much equivocation and evasion
going on in the controversies of which Pope was the
center, where there was not vigorous and straight-
forward lying, that no one can entertain a sense of
much security in the inferences he draws from anything
which has been said. Sentences are so concocted that
while they seem to affirm unmistakably one thing they
can be made unexpectedly to yield under pressure a
meaning altogether different. Plain therefore as seem
the words just given, one cannot be sure that they
convey an actual denial. They may have lurking in
them a subterfuge of some sort. But if intended as a
denial they failed signally of their aim. Contemporary
references continued to designate Russel — sometimes
amiably terming him Runt Russel — as the editor.
Later, not merely was the man made an object of
attack, but also the profession. Early in 1733 Eustace
Budgell started a periodical called the ' Bee. ' In the
first number he gave an account of his weekly contem-
poraries. In it he said that the person thought to be at

the head of the ' Grub-street Journal ' was " Mr. II 1,

a nonjuring clergyman."1 Toward the close of the
year a bitter quarrel sprang up between the two papers.
In the course of the controversy Budgell was wont to
term his antagonist Parson Kussel. Furthermore he
went into particulars. He wrote and printed pointed
personal letters to his rival in which he took care to
give not only the name and occupation, but also the
residence. The first of these was addressed to " Russel,
a clergyman living in Smith's Square, near the Horse-

i The Bee, No. 1, Feb. 10, 1733, vol. i. p. 9.
396

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

Ferry, in Westminster, and the reputed author of the
Grub-street Journal."1 Information of a not alto-
gether pleasing character was further imparted to him
as to the estimation in which he was held. " We are
informed," wrote Budgell, "that you are a parson;
that you have but a mean fortune and no preferment ;
that not one of your neighbors either visits or esteems
you, and that the only visible way you have of getting a
livelihood is by taking some young gentlemen to board
in your house who go to Westminster school."2 In a
letter in a later number the residence was fixed even
more definitively as over against St. Ann's church in
the same neighborhood.3

In this controversy Russel followed in the footsteps
of Pope. Though he equivocated he never really de-
nied that he was the editor of the paper. The charge
was repeated with much more virulence and effect a
year or so later by Aaron Hill and Popple in their paper
called 'The Prompter.' There it was both assumed
and asserted that he was the responsible conductor of
the rival publication. That a man of his profession
should be concerned in a work of this character was
pronounced to be something peculiarly disreputable.4
He was at times variously designated as the vicar of
Grub-street,5 as a mixture of priest and scavenger, as
the reverend drayman at the Pegasus,6 as the reverend

1 The Bee, No. 41, Dec. 4, 17.33, vol. iv. p. 72.

2 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 75.

8 Ibid. No. 52, Fob. 23, 1734, vol. iv. p. 550.
4 The Prompter, No. 112, Dec. 5, I73f>.
■ Il.i.l. No. 107, Nov. 18, 1735, No. Ill, Doc. 2.
6 Ibid. No. 112, Deo. 5, 1735.

397

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

drayman of the Hebdomadalian dung-cart.1 Nor was
Pope's connection with it disregarded, though at the
time the poet had published what might, by the un-
knowing, have been considered as an official denial of
any such charge. Indeed Hill printed a copy of verses
the first stanza of which may be said to give his opinion
of the reasons which had led to the establishment of the
journal in question, and of the person and methods
that had been employed to carry it on:

P e, who oft o'erflows both with wit and with spleen,

Felt the want of a dung-cart to keep himself clean :
So he furnished a priest with a carriage, ding-dong :
And made him his drayman to drive it along.2

Long before this time, however, Pope's connection
with the journal had been made the subject of com-
ment. In the very first year of its existence the fact
had been intimated.3 Later it was expressly asserted.
Unquestionably the success the paper met with, what-
ever it may have been, was largely due to the impres-
sion that became widely prevalent that the poet and his
friends were contributors to its columns. This was
the statement definitely made a few years later by one
of the rival weeklies. "The Grub-street Journal," it
said, "is a paper that owed its whole prospect of suc-
cess and reputation, at its first outset, to an opinion that
was artfully circulated through the town that Mr. Pope
and Dr. Arbuthnot were concerned in it as authors."
It went on to say that had it not been for this belief

i The Prompter, No. 108, Nov. 21, 1735.

2 Ibid. No. 107, Nov. 18, 1735.

3 See a copy of verses in Fog's Weekly Journal, Nov. 7, 1730.

398

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

the publication would never have been regarded at all.
"Nothing could have kept it alive so long," it con-
cluded, "but the mere love of scandal, on which frailty
it has hitherto subsisted, and the hope of something
malicious one week to make amends for the dulness of
another."1 This was touching the editorial manage-
ment in a very sore place. As the poet himself wrote
to Caryll, the paper was very unequal.2 Without the
pieces written by himself and his friends the bitterest
personalities in which it indulged could not impart to
it interest. Certain it is that the editor who wrote
under the name of Bavius approached altogether nearer
the conception of that character than Pope did to that
of Virgil.

It was Eustace Budgell, however, who was most
distinct and emphatic in attributing to Pope a connec-
tion with this journal. In the controversy which his
paper had with its contemporary, he charged him with
being a regular contributor to its columns. lie gave
that as the reason for the rancor and hatred which it
displayed to all mankind with the exception of one
particular person. That was its poet, Mr. Poppy, who
supplied it with libels in verse.3 Budgell spoke con-
temptuously of the dread Pope affected to inspire by
his "never-dying satires." lie concluded one of his
articles with a defiant challenge to "the little envious
animal" who assailed him in the 4 Grub-street Journal/
to set his own name to his scandalous verses. He con-

1 The Weekly Register, June 1, 1784.

2 Letter of Feb. G, 1781, Tope's ' Works,' vol. vi. p. 329.
n The Bee, vol. iv. p. 75.

399

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

eluded with giving expression to what he termed a calm
and judicial estimate of the poet's character. " We call
him," he said, " a villain, upon a most mature and serious
consideration, and without the least heat or passion.''1
BudgelFs mind, long unsettled, had now become nearly
upset. The attacks made upon him in the ' Grub-
street Journal ' after the death of Tindal he attributed
to the instigation of Pope. At these and their sup-
posed author he waxed half -frantic with wrath. It
was intimated in these articles that the will leaving
him a legacy of two thousand pounds had either been
forged or that undue influence had been exerted over
the testator in his dying moments. There had also
appeared in the paper a copy of verses on the free-
thinker. Hope was expressed in it that Tindal had
gone to heaven. "'Tie said," continued the writer,
"Budge sends him there."2 This line taken in con-
nection with one or two others, Budgell considered or
affected to consider a charge that he had murdered the
philosopher. There was in consequence little restraint
in his denunciation of his supposed accuser.

Unquestionably Pope was profoundly irritated by
the persistency with which Budgell dragged in his
name in the controversy which the ' Bee ' was carrying
on with the ' Grub-street Journal. ' It was all the more
annoying because the main charge that he was the con-
trolling power behind the management was distinctly
true. There is indeed no probability that he had any-
thing directly to do with the tedious, even if justifiable

1 Grub-street Journal, p. 555, No. 52, Feb. 23, 1734.

2 Ibid. No. 205, Nov. 29, 1733.

400

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

abuse, which was heaped upon Budgell; though it is
not likely that it caused him protracted suffering. But
if he was easily provoked to resentment, he knew how
to bide his time. For more than a year he paid no
attention to the constantly repeated statements that he
had a chief hand in the conduct of the 4 Grub-street
Journal.' But in January, 1735, appeared the apology
for his life which was published under the title of an
4 Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot.' In this most skilfully
devised, as well as most brilliant of poems, Pope ex-
tolled his own self-restraint in maintaining a magnan-
imous silence under the series of persistent aspersions
which had been cast upon his person, his morals, and
his family. Slandered unceasingly, he had never con-
descended to reply. lie specified a number of instances
in which he had been libelled, but in which he had never
opened his lips in his own defence. Then in one of
those stinging couplets where with he was wont to
impale his adversaries, he referred to the course he had
adopted in reply to the charges which had been made
in the 'Bee.' It was but another proof of the indiffer-
ence he had invariably displayed to the calumnies with
which he had been constantly pursued, that he had

" Let Budgell charge low Grub-street ou his quill,
And write whate'er he please, except his will." x

The couplet was more than an insinuation that his
critic had been guilty of the forgery of which he had
been accused. It was intended to give the public the
impression of a full denial of any connection on his own

1 Linos :i7'.> so.

W 401

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

part with the journal in question. But the charge had
been made so frequently and so persistently, and it was
itself under the circumstances so damaging, that he felt
compelled to continue the consideration of the subject
in plain prose. To the lines just given he appended
the following note:

" Budgell, in a weekly pamphlet called the Bee, bestowed much
abuse on him, in the imagination that he writ some things about
the last will of Dr. Tindal in the Grub-street Journal; a paper
wherein he never had the least hand, direction or supervisal, nor
the least knowledge of its authors. He took no notice of so frantic
an abuse ; and expected that any man who knew himself author of
what he was slandered for would have justified him on that article."

The unsuspecting reader will now, and at the time
actually did, consider this note as an absolute denial
of Pope's having ever had anything to do in any way
with the 4 Grub-street Journal. ' Such an inference is
natural; it seems indeed almost inevitable; and yet it
betrays a lamentable state of ignorance as to the poet's
practices. The attention of those familiar with his
methods of procedure is at once arrested by the peculiar
wording of this apparently unreserved disavowal of the
least knowledge of the paper or of its editors. Pope
lacked entirely the open, magnificent mendacity, captivat-
ing by its very audaciousness, of his great contemporary
Voltaire. He sought to secure his results by carefully
devised statements which would convey truth of a cer-
tain sort but not of the sort apparently conveyed. He
couched his meaning in language which could be ex-
plained in a different sense from what men would ordi-
narily take it, if worst should come to worst. In the

402

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

mean time it would produce upon the mind of the un-
suspicious reader an impression distinctly false, but also
distinctly desirable to have him entertain. In this
particular instance his words would seem a positive
disclaimer of all the accusations brought against him
of having any hand in the ' Grub-street Journal.' He
further fell in with the general opinion in stigmatizing
it as "low." But if ever confronted with the actual
fact of his having contributed articles to it, he could
insist that all he meant in this place was that he had
had nothing to do with the pieces attacking Budgell in
regard to Tindal's will, and that he had no knowledge
of their authors.

The whole proceeding was curiously characteristic.
While the ordinary reader would and did infer from
his words that Pope indignantly repelled the assertion
or insinuation that he had any connection whatever
with the * Grub-street Journal, ' not even his worst
enemy would care to insist, after the explanation that
could be given, that the poet had actually lied. No
matter how much he thought it, he would not feel like
saying it. Indeed one revolts at any time from apply-
ing a word so brutal to the assertions of a man of
genius, especially when so many other politer phrases
can be used which convey precisely the same idea. Yet
danger there always is, when considering Pope's con-
duct in any particular instance, of letting one's natural
indignation at his course evaporate in the admiration
one comes to feel for the boundless resource he exhib-
ited in making misleading statements and evading any
of their possible harmful consequences. Without say-

403

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

ing, therefore, as did Macaulay repeatedly, that Pope
lied, it is permissible to declare that never was there
a greater expert than he in all the varied forms in
which mendacity disguises itself — in the half conceal-
ment which suggests the wholly false; in the evasion
which keeps the letter of truth alive while smothering
its spirit; in the misrepresentation which produces an
utterly wrong impression of a fact in certain ways cor-
rectly stated; in the prevarication which designedly
defeats the very ends it professedly seeks to advance ;
above all, in the ability to say seemingly one thing while
leading the hearer or reader to believe that something
directly contrary has been said. Naturally this method
of proceeding has at times its disadvantages. Pope's
further assertion in this same piece that he "thought
a lie in verse and prose the same " exemplified the
truth of one of the claims he made for himself in
a way he did not intend. The lie about the ' Grub-
street Journal ' in the poetry was not at all distinct
in essence from the lie about it in the prose note
appended.

The pretended denial, however much it may have
influenced the opinion of the multitude of readers, never
affected the belief of those who were better informed.
It did not prevent them from treating his connection
with the ' Grub-street Journal ' as an assured fact. It
looks, however, as if Pope became weary, as time went
on, of the paper, and was anxious to sever his connec-
tion with it entirely. Though it still remained his
personal organ — as late as April, 1736, there appeared
in it a denial coming from his own mouth of a re-

404

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

port about himself 1 — his contributions to it gradually
ceased. It had served its purpose ; for him its useful-
ness was practically gone. It had furnished him a
comparatively secure fortress from behind whose ram-
parts of type he had been enabled to fling envenomed
darts against his enemies at pleasure, while he himself
remained unknown, and by the great mass of men even
unsuspected. But the fortress was tending all the
while to become insecure. The part he took in holding
it might chance at any moment to break out into the
full blaze of publicity by some untoward revelation
which could neither be successfully denied nor plausibly
explained away. Hence after a few years he gradually
withdrew himself from much active participation in its
fortunes.

So well known was this at the time in certain circles
that during the latter part of 1735 and the early part
of 1736 the rival weekly, the 'Prompter,' constantly
twitted the unfortunate Russel with having lost the help
of the only person who had been able to relieve by
his wit the insufferable dulness which his own personal
contributions imparted to the paper. His journal, it
was said, was called 4 Grub-street ' and it was found
4 Grub-street.' He was taunted with having been left
in the lurch by his master. One peculiarly venomous
piece represented the reverend editor as having with
tears in his eyes besought the poet to come to his

1 See a copy of verses on Pope's being present at Fielding's dramatic
satin- <>f ' Pasqnin/ in ' Grab-street Journal,' No. 328, April 8, 17.'><> ; the
denial in No. 829 of his having been present; ami the information in No.
331 that the denial came from Pope's own month.

405

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

rescue and write for the paper oftener than once in
two months. Unless he were more frequent in his
contributions it was intimated that the circulation of the
journal would speedily sink as low as was its character.
It may be an unwarranted, but it is certainly a plausible
inference from the conclusion to the note in the i Epistle
to Dr. Arbuthnot ' that Pope had expected the editor
to deny that the poet was in any way responsible for
the articles attacking Budgell, and had not been too
well pleased because no action of the sort had been
taken. A statement of the real truth would doubtless
have shown that he had had nothing to do with these
particular pieces; but it would also have tended to
destroy the impression that he had anything to do with
the paper itself. The latter view the editor may not
have been so anxious to spread abroad as was the poet.
Possibly for that reason he remained silent.

At all events the attacks upon Russel seemingly
became too violent to render the tenure of his position
agreeable. It is not unlikely — for it is useless to pre-
tend anything more than probability in the account to
be given of many of these transactions — that the words
of the poet himself had been too much for his clerical
advocate. The man for whose sake he had been made the
subject of constant vituperation appeared to disown any
connection whatever with the paper which had been
set up in his own interest. He appeared to deny that
he had ever written a word in it. He appeared to
affirm that he had never had the least knowledge of
any one concerned in its conduct. He had further stig-
matized it as "low." Russel not impossibly may have

406

THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

felt that lie had a grievance and that he had a right to
it. At any rate, early in 1736 he announced his in-
tended withdrawal, which soon actually followed, from
the management of the paper. He continued, however,
to contribute for a while at least to its columns, and
edited the selections from its earlier numbers which
appeared in 1737. The announcement that he had
retired from the field was followed by the statement in
the opposing weekly that the post of editor would " be
conferred on another reverend militant, who having
served a long time under that renowned commander,
the experienced Bavius, had acquired as consummate
a knowledge as his predecessor."1 This reverend
militant was Miller, another of Pope's partisans, one of
whose works in his defence has already been mentioned.
Whether he ever actually assumed the position here
assigned him or performed any of his duties cannot per-
haps be definitely ascertained. With the virtual with-
drawal of Pope as a writer for it all interest in the
* Grub-street Journal ' had long before ceased fully.
No regret was felt by any one, least of all probably by
the poet himself, when at the end of the following year
it expired.

1 The Prompter, No. 123, January 13, 1736.

407

CHAPTER XX

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

In the general warfare which Pope carried on in the
columns of the * Grub-street Journal ' with the men he
disliked or detested, Theobald was naturally not neg-
lected. The attacks upon him, however, varied much
at different periods. At the outset his importance in
the poet's eyes is manifested by the fact that in the
early numbers of the paper he is spoken of as the head
of the opposing forces. The members of the assumed
contending parties were designated as Theobaldians or
Popeians. Anything that was to be turned into special
ridicule was said to have been written in the Theo-
baldine manner. In the same manner also pretended
corrections were given of pieces criticised. The laureat
odes of Cibber, tedious enough in themselves, were
made the subject of annotations even more tedious.
In them it was professed that the true reading had been
restored after the manner of Theobald. It is not alto-
gether easy to believe that this representative position
was attained by one eminent only for dulness.

But as Theobald made no reply to these reflections
upon himself, the controversy lacked the stimulus that
springs from counter-attack. While, therefore, he was
far from being forgotten, more virulence was displayed

408

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

towards other adversaries of Pope, such as Welsted,
Moore-Smythe, and Henley. These returned railing for
railing and gave fully as much as they got. The bit-
terness displayed towards these men in certain of the
articles in the ' Grub-street Journal ' showed how deeply
the assertions and insinuations of his foes had rankled
in the poet's sensitive nature. Yet after all, the one
person who received the largest share of notice in the
paper was a scholar who never paid any attention to
what it said, and probably never took the pains to
do so much as glance at it. This was Bentley. Him
Pope and his followers affected to regard as the type
of a scholiast of unwearied industry in studying things
not worth studying, of heavy and undigested learn-
ing, of constant conjectural emendation of little or no
value. The hostility towards him continued the whole
life long of the poet. The attack upon the Master of
Trinity in the last book of 'The Dunciad,' published
less than two years before Pope's death, was more sus-
tained and vehement than any of those indulged in at
an earlier period. For some reason, however, the most
faithful partisans of Pope have neglected to include
Pentley in their list of dunces.

One singular and most discreditable manifestation of
this hostility is worth recording here, as showing the
character of the poet and the nature of the machina-
tions from which Theobald had to protect his own
reputation, if it were protected at all, but which as a,
matter of fact he did not succeed in protecting. In
the latter part of 1734 appeared, without name of author
or date of publication, a poem entitled 'Sober Advice

409

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

from Horace to the Young Gentlemen about Town, as
delivered in his Second Sermon.' It professed to be
written in the manner of Mr. Pope, and to him it was
dedicated. The English imitation was accompanied
with a reprint of the Latin original, as restored, it was
said, by the Reverend R. Bentley, Doctor of Divinity.
To it were appended annotations purporting to come
from the same hand. Some of these notes were grossly
indecent. The real author was at once generally sus-
pected, though Pope took some pains to disavow Ins
connection with the work. But he disavowed it in a
feeble way. Apparently he took a secret pride in the
performance.

Bentley seems to have treated with disdain the
shameful attack upon himself in attributing to him
the composition of notes which owed their existence
to that almost morbid love of obscenity which was a
peculiar characteristic of the poet. Not so his son. He
at once charged the author with having written these
annotations for which his father had been made respon-
sible. He insisted upon a retraction and an apology.
To this demand Pope returned for once not an evasive,
but a direct denial, and Bentley 's son apologized for
having brought against the poet an unfounded accusa-
tion.1 The only comment necessary to make upon
Pope's course in this matter is that a few years later
he included the piece in a volume of his poems pub-
lished by Dodsley, though without the notes, and with-
out any reference to Bentley.2 But even in going so

1 Letter of Pope to Caryll, Feb. 18, 1735, Pope's ' Works/ vol. vi. p. 355.

2 The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq. : vol. ii., part ii. Containing all

410

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

far as this, careful provision was made for disavowing
the authorship in case of necessity. The piece was not
only put towards the end, but it was preceded by a
separate title-page of its own. The pretence of its
being an imitation of Pope was kept up, and it was
followed by the third satire of Dr. Donne versified by
Parnell. There were one or two other features which
would help to prevent its being ascribed with absolute
assurance to the poet, though he continued to reprint
it in subsequent issues of his works. Warburton dis-
carded it from the theoretically authorized and defini-
tive edition which he published in 1751. His example
has been followed by later editors with the exception
of Warton; though when we observe what they put
in, it is not easy to understand why this should be
left out.

But though Theobald was not pursued in the ' Grub-
street Journal ' with the bitterness exhibited towards
some, no occasion was passed over to hold him up to
ridicule. Sneers contained in epigrams or prose articles
were constantly cast at his profession as a lawyer, his
ability as a poet and his work as a commentator. Tan-
talizing reflections were thrown out as to what he had
accomplished or had failed to accomplish. He was
taunted with having frequently set on foot undertak-
ings which he had not finished. The result had been
that the subscribers had been mulcted of all the money
paid down. There was here fair ground for attack.

such piecee of this author as were written since (ho former volumes, :m<l

never before published in Octaro. London : Printed for K. Dodsley, 1738.
The poem above mentioned extends from page 7'.) to page 92.

411

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Whether it was his misfortune or his fault, Theobald
had rendered himself liable to the charge of soliciting
subscriptions for promised works which he had never
completed, and according to his enemy had never in-
tended to complete. A peculiarly malicious but like-
wise entertaining article of this nature appeared in the
number of the * Grub-street Journal ' for October 8,
1730. It is of some importance to those interested in
the fortunes of Theobald, as showing the projects in
which he had then been concerned, though, as might be
expected, some of its details were more than untrust-
worthy, they were distinctly false. The attack, clearly
coming from Pope himself, is in the form of a pre-
tendedly official epistle addressed to the worshipful
Grubrcan society. It is signed by Leonard Welsted as
secretary to the body of knights, esquires, and other
members of the ancient society of the Bathos, com-
monly called and known as the ' Gentlemen of The
Dunciad.'

In this communication there was an affected pretence
of defending Theobald as the president of the latter
society from a falsehood which had. been inserted in
the 'Grub-street Journal.' This was to the effect that
he had undertaken a translation of ittschylus with the
subscription for Shakes peare in his pocket. The reverse
was really the fact. He had undertaken an edition
of Shakespeare with the subscription for iEschylns in
his pocket. "Full seven years ago," continued the
account, " he received guinea subscriptions for the said
JEschylus, upon his proposals, dated November, 1723,
which asserted the work to be then ready for the press,

412

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

and the whole to be delivered the Easter following^
viz., April, 1724. " The letter then went on to defend
the right and privilege exercised by the worthy presi-
dent of proposing without performing. For this, his
constant practice, he was never enough to be extolled.
He had proposed an ./Eschylus in 1728, he had pro-
posed a Shakespeare in 1727, he had proposed an
' Odyssey ' in 1717, and two volumes of Wycherley, all
of which he had in the most exemplary manner left
unperformed. The sting of these remarks lay in the
fact that the practice indicated was becoming too
common. As the subscriber, on entering his name,
paid down half the money due, a constant temptation
was presented to the author to content himself with that
sum and leave the promised work unfinished. Fraud of
tills sort was one of the agencies which contributed to
break down this method of publication.

Derisive remarks of a similar nature continued to be
made or instigated by Pope during the whole period
the edition of Shakespeare was in preparation. His
partisans were eager to curry favor with their leader by
joining in this attack. Of one of the pieces vituper-
ating the poet's enemies which his admirers were in
the habit of producing at that time — the 'Harlequin
Horace ' of the Reverend James Miller — an account has
already been given. The passage assailing Theobald
began with the following couplet:

** Theobald in mail compleat of dulnoss clad,
Half bard, half puppet-man, half fool, half mad."

An ironical review of this poem, purporting to come
from the Grubaean society, appeared a few weeks later

'413

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

in the 'Grub-street Journal.' Like the previous one
just cited, it bears in places clear internal evidence of
Pope's handiwork. The comments on the couplet
given above were to the effect that these lines con-
tained an injurious and groundless reflection on a very
acute and industrious member of the society, "as if
he was wont to do anything by halves; when, on the
contrary, many dozen of his subscribers are ready to
testify that he is very far from having done half of
anything he ever undertook ; forasmuch as of the many
different works for which he has procured their en-
couragement they have hitherto seen no more than the
Proposals and Specimen."1 As in the previous in-
stance the writer went on to applaud Theobald's be-
havior, not only for his own sake but for the sake of
his subscribers. They had been absolved by this course
from the second payment of their contribution money.
It was a favor for which every one of them ought to be
grateful, as it was far more eligible to pay one guinea
rather than two for nothing. The double sense in which
the word 4 nothing ' is here employed is exactly in
Pope's manner.

Insinuations of this sort waited upon everything
Theobald set out to do, and naturally did not con-
tribute to the accomplishment of anything he under-
took. There were other articles designed to turn him
into ridicule of a kind somewhat different. Among
them there was one in particular which contained an
amusing fling at the play of ' Double Falsehood ' and
Theobald's claim that it came from the pen of Shake-

1 Grub-street Journal, No. 66, April 8, 1731.

414

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

speare. This formed a part of a fictitious bill for the
more effectual prevention of the importation or sale of
compositions in prose or verse, written or pretended to
be written by any person convicted of death. Among
the provisions was one subjecting to the penalty of
forgery any person found guilty of affixing the name
of a deceased writer to his own works in order to raise
the price of these. To this, however, was appended the
following malicious limitation. "Provided," ran its
words, "nothing herein contained shall be construed
to prejudice L. T. — esq., or the heirs of his body
lawfully begotten, in any right or title which he or
they may have or pretend to have of affixing the name
of William Shakespeare, alias Shakespear, to any book,
pamphlet, play or poem, hereafter to be by him or them,
or any other person for him or them, written, made or
devised."1

Theobald not only published no direct reply to these
attacks upon himself, there is no evidence that he was
concerned in any of the attacks which were directed
against Pope. All the retorts of any kind he ever
made to charges or insinuations levelled at himself can
be found in the newspaper articles of 1728 and 1729
which have already been described. One anonymous
publication belonging to this period has indeed been
attributed to him. In the middle of December, 1731,
appeared Pope's ' Epistle on Taste ' addressed to the
Earl of Burlington. It excited at the time a great deal
of clamor. The general assumption prevailed that in
it, under the character of Timon, the Duke of Chandos

1 Grub-streol Journal, No. «J7, Nov. 11, 1731.

415

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

had been satirized. The charge, whether true or false,
caused the poet infinite annoyance. It gave rise in turn
to all sorts of attacks. In the number of these was a
little volume which came out about the middle of the
following month under the title of ' A Miscellany on
Taste.' It contained five pieces, not one of which was
original. The opening one of the collection was Pope's
recently published poem, pirated and annotated. The
pirated poem had been printed, it was said, to show
Pope's taste in architecture. The volume further con-
tained his then well-known obscene parody of the first
psalm. This was to exemplify his taste in divinity.
Still another piece was Theobald's letter to the 4 Daily
Journal ' of April 17, 1729, which had been distinctly
damaging to Pope's pretensions as an editor. It was
inserted here to exemplify "his taste of Shakespeare."
The frontispiece to the whole collection was a print by
Hogarth representing Pope mounted on a scaffold en-
gaged in bespattering every one who came in his way.
Theobald has occasionally been made responsible for
this publication. The collection as a whole is said to
have been edited by him.1 There may be found some-
where ample authority for this assertion; but if so, it
has never been made public. On the face of it, any
connection on his part with this 4 Miscellany ' is more
than improbable. No intimation to that effect seems
to exist in contemporary literature. It was not ascribed
to him by the 4 Grub-street Journal, ' ever on the look-
out to seek pretexts for making him an object of attack.

1 So stated in the catalogue of the library of the British Museum, and
from that adopted into other catalogues.

416

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

The paper contented itself with designating the work
as " Curllean Grubbism."1 Further, the annotations
on the pirated poem are not at all in Theobald's manner.
If the statement of his editorship of this work rests on
no other foundation than the chance assertion of some
unknown scribbler, it may safely be dismissed as not
entitled to the slightest credit. The detail of the
controversies in which Pope was concerned abounds in
these worthless guesses, sometimes upon worthless asser-
tions of the poet himself. For instance, in 1715 Gay's
farce of ' What-d-ye-call it ' was followed by a key.
Twenty years later, Pope, in a note contained in the
edition of his correspondence, gave Theobald the credit
or discredit of having assisted the player Griffin in the
preparation of this attack. Not the slightest evidence
was furnished then of the truth of this grossly improb-
able statement. Yet on the strength of it Theobald
appears in all bibliographies as the joint author of this
production.

During all the years under consideration Theobald
seems in fact to have devoted his time and attention
almost exclusively to the preparation of his edition
of Shakespeare. The excursions he made into other
fields were in all probability undertaken for the sake
of securing support for himself and his family, and the
further prosecution of his investigations. The only
two independent pieces that came from his pen were
pretty plainly written with these objects in view. One
of them was the so-called dramatic opera of 4 Orestes. '
This was brought out in April, 1731, at the theater in

1 No. 108, January 27, 17-'5l\
27 417

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Lincoln's Inn Fields, and had a respectable though not
a remarkable run. It was founded, as its prologue tells
us, upon Davenant's play of ' Circe, ' though blank
verse was substituted for the ryme of its original. It
was no better, but it was also no worse than the average
play of the period ; fully equal indeed to certain which
are now occasionally mentioned by some with respect,
though never read by any. The only piece he produced
purely his own, was a poem of a little over two hundred
lines which came out in May, 1732. x It was addressed
to John Boyle, who had lately succeeded to the title of
Earl of Orrery. It was mainly devoted to celebrating
the virtues of his father, Charles Boyle, the nominal
protagonist in the controversy which the Christ Church
wits carried on with Bentley. As such pieces go, it
was a distinctly creditable production. Charles Boyle
had been one of Theobald's patrons, and in his poem
the latter speaks of the great obligations he had been
under to the whole family. The son was later to be-
come the friend of Swift and Pope; but he continued
to the commentator the favor shown him by his father,
and shown even more by his lately deceased wife. To
him the edition of Shakespeare was dedicated.

Some slight excursions were also made by Theobald
during this period into the pecuniarily unremunera-
tive regions of classical learning. In 1731 Jortin, the
ecclesiastical scholar, started a periodical entitled ' Mis-
cellaneous Observations upon Authors, Ancient and
Modern. ' It was given up to disquisitions purely lin-
guistic and philological. To it Theobald sent at a

1 Grub-street Journal, May 11, 1732.
418

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

somewhat early period in its existence a communication
containing some corrections of Eustathius, Athena3us
and Suidas. This so impressed the editor that he asked
for further contributions. Two more were given, the
first containing observations upon Strabo, Anacreon,
and Suidas, the second on iEschylus and his scholiast.
These are mentioned here solely for the purpose of
illustrating the wide range of Theobald's scholarship
and the opinion then entertained of its character by
those most competent to judge. But an incidental
result of his connection with the periodical just men-
tioned was to lead him to enter a field which up to this
time had never been cultivated at all. To one of its
numbers he furnished an article in which he gave
several emendations of the minor poems of Shake-
speare.1 He was led to undertake the consideration of
these by a suggestion of Jortin's. The corrections he
made were marked by his usual sagacity and acumen.
In nearly every instance they have been generally
adopted in modern editions. But it is not for them-
selves that they are noticeable; it is for the subject
treated. This article was the first example of any
critical attention paid to the poems as distinguished
from the plays. Of the knowledge of the existence
of the former many cultivated men of that day were
innocent; of actual familiarity with them hardly any
one could have been found guilty.

In this matter, as in numerous others, Theobald was
a pioneer; but the work he did has been practically
ignored and the credit due him lias been largely ac-

1 Vol. ii. pp. 242-250.

419

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

corded to others. Still, at the time itself the reputa-
tion he had won in his chosen field was of the highest.
There was no attempt then made to dispute his superi-
ority as a textual critic. Friend and foe alike acknowl-
edged it. Even the * Grub-street Journal ' conceded
that he possessed qualifications for an editor to which
no one else could lay claim. It is noticeable that no
attempt was ever made to call in question the correct-
ness of his criticism of the srjecific blunders which Pope
had committed. Had his enemies attempted to take
that ground, they would have been signally worsted.
Pope knew it and his partisans knew it. The only
resource therefore was to decry the importance of what
could not be answered. In this method of defence the
poet as we have seen had early led the way. In the
lines he added to the piece, entitled ' Fragment of a
Satire, ' he set the tune which his partisans were hence-
forth to sing with increasing volume and emphasis.
The practice he called " word-catching " and the labor
bestowed upon it "piddling." In a way a sort of
credit was given to the commentator. To him belonged
industry, even if it were stupid industry. Praise
mingled with contempt could be yielded him for his
care in setting exactly right points and commas, for
the nicety and punctiliousness he displayed in minutiae
of this character. It was only in matters of such a
kind, however, that his cold and plodding nature ex-
hibited any excellence. He lacked entirely the higher
qualities which belong to a really great editor. All
the criticism of Theobald as a commentator, which
prevailed during the eighteenth century and has been

420

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITIC ISM

largely repeated down to our own day ; all the estimates
which have been taken of his character as a scholar,
and of his abilities as a man ; these were originated and
set in circulation before a single line of his edition of
Shakespeare had been printed.

In particular, the efforts of Pope were steadily di-
rected to creating the impression that the labor ex-
hibited by his rival was devoted to matters of little
intrinsic importance, and the methods which he pur-
sued, praiseworthy as far as they went, were after all
of no special value. The success he met in propagat-
ing this belief was due to the mental attitude which
largely prevailed then. Since his day the point of
view has changed entirely. Conditions which in the
eighteenth century favored the policy of Pope would
have militated against it now. It was then a widely
accepted opinion that it was an unworthy proceeding to
devote to minute investigation attention which should
be concerned with what were called broad, compre-
hensive views of humanity. A good deal of contempt
was both felt and expressed for those who spent their
days in the collection and study of the very things which
now occupy the time and thought of the specialist, and
spread far and wide his reputation.

This sort of feeling the age was outgrowing, but it
was outgrowing it slowly. It had long been dominant.
As early as 1G76 Shadwell had attacked the whole
tribe of collectors in his 'Virtuoso.' As late as 1751
Richard Owen Cambridge brought out a mock-heroic
poem, never much read and now utterly unreadable, in
which lie attempted to ridicule as follies pursuits which

421

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

he did not understand. Sneers of this sort had met
with wide acceptance, especially from men of letters.
Dryclen was an exception. His wrath had indeed been
aroused by the attack of Shadwell, who professed to be
a follower of Ben Jonson. "Where did his wit on
learning fix a brand?" exclaimed the indignant poet,
referring to the earlier dramatist.1 But in this matter
Pope would have sympathized, not with the satirist, but
with the man satirized. In the fourth book of 4 The
Dunciad ' it is the florist, the numismatologist, the
collector of butterflies who are assailed. Petty pursuits
like these, it is inferentially indicated, should not
engage the prolonged attention of reasoning creatures.
The proper study of mankind is man. These other
matters of comparatively little importance should be
left to those who were incapable of rising above them.

Naturally among these subjects of special reprobation
verbal criticism was included. This is a pursuit which
needs no defenders now. If anything there is a dispo-
sition to devote to it too much attention, to pay to it
too much deference. But there was very little respect
entertained for it then, at least as applied to the eluci-
dation of an English author. The collation of texts in
order to ascertain the genuine word or phrase, the set-
ting right of punctuation points whose wrong position
perverted the meaning, the research required for the ex-
planation of obscure allusions — all these in the opinion
of that time constituted tasks fitted for dull and drudg-
ing pedantry. Verbal emendation, even when changing
the sense of a passage, or giving to it sense, of which it

1 MacFleckuoe, line 177.

422

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

had apparently been devoid entirely, evinced no real
understanding of the author. These were the fruits of
dogged industry. They could be secured as easily by
a dullard willing to put forth the requisite exertion as
by a man of highest genius. In the defence which
he made of verbal criticism Theobald was preaching
largely to deaf ears. He observed very justly that
whenever words were depraved, the sense was neces-
sarily corrupted and falsified. He quoted Longinus to
the effect that to make the proper correction of such a
passage was "the most consummate fruit of much ex-
perience." He added that he who through indolence or
inadvertence neglected literal criticism or exhibited
contempt for it was sure to lead his readers into error.1
At such views, accepted universally now, the genera-
tion then shrugged its shoulders. The impression
widely prevailed that verbal criticism was a sort of
work quite unworthy of any one whose fine intellect and
cultivated taste rendered him capable of appreciating
and setting forth the higher beauties of his author.

Cant of this sort is constantly met with in the years
immediately preceding and following the publication of
Theobald's edition of Shakespeare. Verbal criticism
too, it has to be added, had just at this particular period
received a staggering blow in the house of its friends.
For a long while Bentley had been coming to be recog-
nized as the greatest scholar that the England of that
time knew. The fancied triumph of Boyle was seen by
increasingly large numbers to have been a total defeat.
But Bentley now succeeded in doing something for his

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i., Preface, p. 1.

423

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

own reputation which the most pointed satire of the
greatest satirist of the age was utterly unable to effect.
In January, 1732, was published his famous edition of
' Paradise Lost. ' It is, when we take into considera-
tion the poem and the editor, the most extraordinary
performance to be found in the whole range of English
literature. In preparing it Bentley concocted the appari-
tion of a friend to whom Milton had dictated his epic.
To him he had further confided the task of overseeing
it as it went through the press. This man had proved
unfaithful to the trust reposed in him by the blind poet.
Not merely had he substituted words and phrases of his
own for those of Milton, but he had foisted lines into
the text and even whole passages. Negligence on the
part of the printers had co-operated with the audacity
and villany of this pretended friend. Through these
combined agencies the poem had come to abound in an
infinite number of blunders. It could be said indeed
that Paradise had been twice lost. It was further
evident, it was said, that the proof sheets of the work
had never been read to the author. This was true not
only of the time in which the first edition was coming
out, but during the seven years which preceded the
appearance of the second. In this latter not only had
the old errors been retained, but even some new ones
had been added. Still, it was possible, according to
Bentley, to retrieve the poet's own words by sagacity
and happy conjecture. This he set out to do.

The suspicion, if not knowledge, of Bentley's intention
must have got abroad fully two years at least before the
edition itself was brought out. Pretended attempts of

424

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

the same nature appeared in the ' Grub-street Journal. ' 1
In one of its earliest numbers2 a correspondent using
the signature of Zoilus, and writing or purporting to
write from Cambridge, declared that he had been spend-
ing his leisure in correcting Milton, who had hitherto
appeared under as many faults as any one of the ancient
poets. This was all owing to his unhappy blindness.
He then proceeded to make a number of emendations
which differed little in character from those which
Bentley was subsequently to publish. The reasoning
too by which he justified his alterations reads astonish-
ingly like that later employed Iry the great scholar.
One indeed gets the impression that some of the emen-
dations which Bentley proposed to make must have
somehow come to the knowledge of this ironical con-
tributor. Occasionally the very places which the
former subsequently selected for alteration or animad-
version fell also under the censure of the latter. Jn
one instance he anticipated the action of the editor by
substituting 'sacred' for 'secret' in the opening para-
graph of the epic, where mention is made of the "secret
top of Orel) or of Sinai."

The friend and amanuensis of Milton whom Bentley
evolved from the depths of his own consciousness met
with scant mercy at his hands. No real, criminal has
ever been pelted with more opprobrious terms than this
imaginary offender for an imaginary offence. He was
styled silly, pedantic, negligent, abominable, absurd,
impertinent, affected, puerile, pragmatic, saucy, blun-
dering. Tliese choice epithets applied to the man were
1 Noe. o, 12, 25, 87, and US. 2 u0i gf March ->, 1730.

425

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

rivalled by the phrases descriptive of the work he did.
Again and again we are told of his polluting hand, his
trash, his trivial and common chat, his strange, shocking
expression, his false sense and syntax, his swollen and
empty bombast, his contemptible meanness of style, his
frequent tautology, his vicious diction, his foul neglect,
his miserable jejunity. The limbo of fools, it was
asserted, was the fittest habitation for this interpolator.
He appeared to be an injudicious smatterer in astron-
omy, geography, poetical story, and old romances.
These are mere samples of the abuse which Bentley
heaped really upon Milton, but professedly upon the
supposed betrayer of the trust reposed in him by the
unsuspecting poet. There is no need of furnishing
references to particular places where these epithets and
descriptions occur. Either they themselves or their
equivalents can be found on every page.

One thing Bentley spared us. The text appeared in
his edition just as Milton wrote it. The objectionable
words, phrases, and passages which were declared to have
been foisted in by the supposed editor were indicated by
italicized words and lines, or were enclosed in brackets ;
but they held their proper place in the poem. It was
to the side or to the bottom of the page that the emen-
dations were consigned. Along with the changes
recommended was a commentary proving what it was
in each case that the author had doubtless written.
The proposed alterations, had they been received into
the text, would have had the effect of converting the
finest poetry into something more prosaic than is per-
missible to even the prosiest prose. The atrocity of

426

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

these assaults upon the diction can be appreciated only
by him who makes a study of the whole work ; but a
general idea of their nature can be gained from the
consideration of a very few specimens. Bentley in his
preface gave a list of about fifty alterations which he
singled out for special commendation from the many
hundreds he had made. These, he said, proved beyond
question that the poem was "polluted with such mon-
strous faults as are beyond example in any other printed
book.''

Of these fifty a tithe will suffice to show what no one
would be willing to believe did not the printed page
exist. Satan, after recovering from the stupor of his
fall into the burning lake, is represented by Milton as
saying to his companion that " the Almighty hath not
built here for his envy."1 Bentley would read "the
Almighty hath no butt here for his envy." When
Gabriel, according to Milton, asks Satan why he has
"broke the bounds prescribed to thy transgressions,"2
Bentley easily retrieved, as he said, the true reading
by substituting ' transcursions ' for 'transgressions.'
When Milton tells us that the fallen angels concocted
and adusted sulphurous and nitrous foam with "subtle
art,"3 Bentley corrected a particular one of what he
designated as a whole row of blunders by reading
4 sooty chark ' for * subtle art. ' When Milton recalls
that past forever gone when God or angel guest visited
and talked familiarly with man, "permitting him the
while venial discourse nnblamed," Bentley preferred
'mensfil' to 'venial,' as lessening the familiarity and

1 Book 1,1. 259. a Iiook 4, L 879. 3 Book 6, 1. 513.

427

TEE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

condescension.1 When Satan in the guise of the ser-
pent is represented as having first caught sight of " the
heavenly form angelic " of Eve, the word * angelic '
struck Bentley as quite inappropriate under the cir-
cumstances; so he applied to her form the term
'Adamic. '2 Such alterations speak for themselves.
Further the ridiculousness of the changes proposed was
equalled by the ridiculousness of the reasons given for
the changes. It is, moreover, a striking proof of the
low state in which English scholarship then was that
Bentley' s ignorance of his own language is sometimes
as astounding as his utter insensibility to poetic beauty.
Such a work, coming from the man it did, naturally
produced for a while a good deal of a sensation. Re-
views of it sprang up at once, remarks upon it came
out in serials, so-called friendly letters were addressed
to its editor. Among the various satirical pieces which
swarmed from the press was a pamphlet, proving that
Milton had dictated his ' Paradise Lost ' in ryme, but
his ill-judging amanuensis, having no taste that way,
had jumbled it into blank verse. Upon the pachyder-
matous hide of the Master of Trinity, then in the
midst of his second ten years of intestinal war, these
paper bullets made as little impression as they would
have done upon a stone wall. But there is no question
that he had given in this instance ample justification for
the gibes and scoffs with which the work was greeted.
Furthermore if his personality was not affected by the
contempt poured upon his performance, it was not so
with the subject he had undertaken to illustrate. The

1 Book 9, 1. 5. 2 Ibid. 1. 458.

428

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

tasteless alterations, conjoined with the absurd argu-
ments by which they were supported, were enough of
themselves to bring into positive disrepute all attempts
to correct the text of English classics. Did we not
know indeed that the edition of Milton was under-
taken seriously, it would be no unnatural assumption
that it was an elaborate device to cast ridicule upon the
methods of verbal criticism. That assuredly was its
effect at the time. If such were its results when em-
ployed by him who was the greatest scholar of the age,
it would be natural to ask, what would they be when
they were the productions of inferior men ?

There is no question that this most ridiculous edition
of Milton proved a distinct stumbling-block in the
way of Theobald's edition of Shakespeare. From that
time on his name was almost invariably joined with
Bentley's whenever any comment was made upon verbal
criticism. The humbler scholar could not free his
own labors entirely from the discredit cast upon the
subject by the extraordinary performance of the greater.
So much indeed did it work to his injury that he felt it
necessary in the preface to his edition of Shakespeare
to call attention to the fact that Bentley's design was
unlike his own; and as they were aiming at different
ends, they, consequently followed different methods.
But lie was never able to rescue the work he did
wholly from the opprobrium which the great chieftain
of scholarship had brought upon practices which all
scholars employ. There was undoubtedly a certain
consolation in having his own name coupled with the
great name of Bentley and involved in a like condem-

429

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

nation. But the latter was supported by the authority
which belongs to established position. He possessed
the friendship of men holding high places in church
and state. More than that, he had with him the influ-
ence wielded by a large body of students who were
capable of appreciating classical scholarship, and who
were not in the least affected by the depreciatory esti-
mate expressed by a poet who had genius indeed, but
who was well known not to have learning. But none
of these advantages accrued to Theobald. The circle
who could appreciate his work, though steadily increas-
ing in size, was after all limited in number. It was
largely made up also of scholars comparatively obscure,
and so far as the great reading public was concerned,
possessed of but little influence. On the other hand,
his great adversary was supposed by the general public
to be an authority upon English speech because he was
the greatest English author of the age. Hence the
shafts which rebounded from Bentley without inflicting
harm struck deep into Theobald's reputation even at
the time.

One of the most virulent of the special attacks made
upon him was in a poetical Epistle addressed to Pope on
'Verbal Criticism.' It appeared anonjmiously, but was
well known to be the work of David Mallet. It came
out in April, 1T33.1 Its full title was "Of Verbal
Criticism, Occasioned by Theobald's Shakespear and
Bentley 's Milton." To it was prefixed an advertise-

1 "Next Monday will be published An Epistle to Mr. Pope, occasioned
by Bentley's Milton and Theobald's Shakespear. Printed for L. Gilliver."
(Daily Journal, Friday, April 3, 1733.) For advertisement of actual pub-
lication see 'Grub-street Journal,' April 26, 1733.

430

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

merit which is now much more interesting than the
poem itself. In it the author informed the public that
it was the design of his epistle to expose the abuse of
verbal criticism. He could not, therefore, without
manifest partiality overlook the Editor of Milton and
the Restorer of Shakespeare. He had read over, he
tells us, the many and ample specimens with which this
latter scholiast had already obliged the public. Of
these and of these only did he pretend to give his
opinion. But whatever he might think of the critic,
he had not the least ill-will to the man. Accordingly,
though these verses had been written several months
before, he had, as he gave the world to understand,
magnanimously deferred printing them until he had
learned that the subscription for Theobald's new edi-
tion of Shakespeare was closed. This last state-
ment conveyed information which had reached him
alone.

It is possible that the author of this poem may not
have fully deserved the contempt which Dr. Johnson
felt and expressed for him. The great moralist de-
clared with his usual vigor that there was no dirty
work Mallet was not ready to do for hire ; and it is a
suggestive fact that while Englishmen used him, few
persons have ever been found to say a good word for
him save Scotchmen. But whether his reputation be
justly or unjustly assailed, he was certainly engaged
during his career in a number of transactions which on
their outside have a distinctly suspicious look. But of
all the doubtful or shady performances in which he was
concerned, Done exceeded in impudence the composition

431

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of this poem. Never was there furnished a more strik-
ing illustration of the shamelessness, and with it the
complacency, of pretentious and insolent sciolism. To
a general ignorance of scholarship of any sort Mallet
added special ignorance of English scholarship. In this
particular he was in a class much below Pope, who
really appreciated what he felt it his interest to dis-
parage. But Mallet knew so little of the subject he
talked about that he was incapable of even getting a
conception of his own lack of comprehension. Nothing
can be conceived much more ridiculous than this puny
literary Gigadibs presuming to match himself with a
scholar of the stature of Bentley; for it is observable
that neither Pope nor his followers confined themselves
to attacks upon the great critic for his edition of
Milton, but directed them against all his work upon
the classics.

In this poem Bentley was spoken of as " out-tibbald-
ing poor Tibbald." The condescending tone employed
towards the editor of Shakespeare was as much out
of place as the reference to the great classical scholar.
The superiority of the former in the matters for which
he was attacked dwarfed his critic as much as did that
of the latter. Mallet, to be sure, was never dis-
turbed by any suspicion of the sort; for there are
certain distinct advantages connected with being a com-
plete ignoramus. His poem, however, serves to give
us a fair conception of the manner and spirit with which
the warfare was carried on against the commentator.
A few extracts which follow will serve to reveal the
nature of the attack:

432

' THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

" See, in the darkness of dull authors bred,
With all their refuse luraber'd in his head,
Long years consum'd, large volumes daily turn'd,
And Servius read perhaps, while Maro burn'd,
In error obstinate, in wrangling loud,
Unbred, unsocial, positive and proud ;
Forth steps at last the self-applauding wight,
Of points and letters, chaff and straw to write.

" Hence much hard study without sense or breeding,
And all the grave impertinence of reading.
If Shakespear says, the noon-day sun is bright,
His scholiast will remark, it then was light ;
Turn Caxton, Winkin, each old Goth and Hun,
To rectify the reading of a pun.
Thus nicely trifling, accurately dull,
How one may toil and toil — to be a fool.

" But is there then no honor due to age?
No reverence to great Shakespear's noble page ?
And he who half a life has read him o'er,
His mangled points and commas to restore,
Meets he such slight regard in nameless lays,
Whom Bufo treats, and Lady Wou'd-be pays ?

Blest genius ! who bestows his oil and pains

On each dull passage each dull book contains ;

The toil more grateful, as the task more low;

So carrion is the quarry of a crow.

Where his fam'd author's page is flat and poor,

There most exact the reading to restore ;

By dint of plodding and by sweat of face,

A bull to change, a blunder to replace :

Wliate'er is refuse, critically gleaning,

And mending nonsense into doubtful meaning,

28 433

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

For this the scholiast claims his share of fame,

And modest, prints his own with Shakespear's name.

Had Mallet consciously and conscientiously set out
to proclaim his utter inability to appreciate what was
the duty of an editor of Shakespeare he could not
have done it more effectually than he did in this poem.
It proved that he had never been guilty, to use his
own words, "of the grave impertinence of reading";
of doing anything to throw light on points that were
obscure; or of knowing how to set about doing it.
Pope, who had taken care not to mar his work by too
much low industry of the sort here denounced, naturally
came in for a good deal of encomium. Of him the
Epistle spoke in terms of highest eulogy. It was
Pope who had shown how false and vain were the arts
of the scholiast, who, apparently by the fact of being a
scholiast, had no pretence to taste or genius, and who, if
he possessed learning, lacked common-sense. Further-
more the advertisement prefixed to the Epistle declared
that it had been "undertaken and written entirely
without the knowledge of the gentleman to whom it
is addressed." It was simply designed as a public
testimony of the author's inviolable esteem for that
poet.

Whenever professions of this sort went on between
Pope and his retainers, it is usually safe to infer that
they were intended to impose upon the public. This is
no exception to the general rule. The wording would
be sure to give the reader the impression that the poet
had no knowledge of the work till he had seen it in
print. But this interpretation, though a natural, was

434

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

by no means a necessary one. As a matter of fact we
know that some months before it was published, it was
read and commented upon by the person to whom it
was addressed. "Bentley will be angry at yon," wrote
Pope to the painter Richardson in November, 1732,
" and at me too, shortly, for what I could not help ; a
satirical poem on ' Verbal Criticism ' by Mr. Mallet,
which he inscribed to me before I knew anything of
it."1 The poet Was grateful both for the praise of
himself and for the censure of his adversaries. He
wrote to the author a few days after the letter just
mentioned that he had read the Epistle over and over
with great and just delight. He had shown it to Bol-
ingbroke, who desired in consequence to make Mallet's
acquaintance. He himself was so pleased with it that
he was unwilling to part with it till it was absolutely
required.2

If we can trust the report of an enemy, Pope's action
in this matter was something more than passive. He
procured the publication of the poem by the man who
generally brought out his own pieces. Further, if the
account be true, he required Gilliver to pay for it. The
story is told by Thomas Cooke. Extracts from his
commonplace-book were printed late in the century,
and under the year 1744 appeared the following passage

1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. ix. p. 498.

2 Ibid. Elwyn and Courthope's edition, vol. x. p. 86. The letter as
there given is dated Nov. 7, and 1ms 1733 added in brackets as the date of
the year. It should be 1732, for the poem, as we have seen, was pub-
lished in April, 1733. The further statement in the note that it was
published March, 1734, is consequently ineorreet. It was readvertised and
reissued in February of that year.

435

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

relating to the poem. "Mr. Lawton Gilliver," wrote
Cooke, " the bookseller who published the first edition,
which was in folio, told me that Mr. Pope came to
him and said, " You must give Mallet twenty guineas
for his essay on 'Verbal Criticism,' and that on Mr.
Pope's peremptory recommendation he did give Mallet
twenty guineas for it and did not sell one hundred." 3
Statements like these, coming from an avowed enemy,
are to be received with a good deal of caution. But
there is assuredly nothing intrinsically improbable in
the account. Indeed there is a probability of the truth
of all of it as there is certainty of the truth of part of
it. The work excited not the slightest interest at the
time of its original appearance. Bentley probably never
looked at it, if he even heard of it. Pope's fancy that
he would be angry at some things, for which contempt
would have been too mild a word to express his feel-
ings, was based upon the error of judging the state of
mind of the great scholar by his own sensitiveness to
criticism.

The later history of the author of this poem has an
interest of its own in connection with this eulogium
upon Pope. Expressions of regard continued to be
interchanged between the two men during the years
which followed. It is not unlikely that on the part
of the greater one they were perfectly sincere. It may
be deemed a piece of poetic justice — it is certainly a
comment upon the inviolable esteem Mallet professed
for the person to whom the Epistle was addressed —
that Bolingbroke, to whom in consequence of it he had
1 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxi., part ii. p. 1181.

436

THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM

been introduced, should employ him as the person to
father his own attack upon Pope himself, in the adver-
tisement prefixed to the genuine edition of the 4 Patriot
King ' ; and that in turn the hired agent should be stig-
matized, in one of the defences of the poet which this
preface called forth, as " a fellow who while Mr. Pope
lived, was as diligent in licking his feet as he is now
in licking Lord Bolingbroke's." 1

1 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xix. p. 196, 1749.

437

CHAPTER XXI

Theobald's edition and its reception

Never did any edition of Shakespeare encounter
greater difficulties in the course of its preparation than
did Theobald's ; never was one carried through to com-
pletion against more formidable odds. A systematic
campaign of depreciation and misrepresentation was
conducted both against the man and the work from the
time the project was made public. There was no form
of attack, from petty insinuation to open vituperation,
to which resort was not made. Long before a line of
it was printed, it was stigmatized as a piece of heavy
drudgery, the work of a plodder without wit or taste or
sense. The editor was censured for his presumption in
engaging in such a task. One would fancy from many
of the comments made that the undertaking was of the
nature of an assault upon the reputation of the author
it pretended to illustrate. He who takes the pains to
examine the ephemeral publications of that day will
gain from some of them the impression that the work
Theobald contemplated was a crime against literature,
if not indeed against morals.

Shakespearean controversy can certainly show no-
where else in its history attempts so arduous and per-
sistent to destroy the reputation of a work before its

438

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

appearance. The attacks which have been already cited
will give a conception, but after all an imperfect con-
ception, of their number and virulence as a whole. A
most singular collection would be formed, were one to
rake from files of forgotten newspapers or from forgot-
ten publications of various sorts the articles, paragraphs,
letters, epigrams, and poems which were put in circula-
tion in order to destroy confidence in the work before a
single page of it had been seen by a single one of its
detractors. There was this one justification for the
course pursued, that the men who gave expression to
these utterances were as competent to form a judgment
of the way it had been done before they had examined a
line of it as they would have been after examining the
whole of it.

Theobald, though he maintained silence, could not
have failed to be keenly sensitive to these attacks. He
referred to them in the preface to the work when com-
pleted. In that he spoke with a good deal of feeling of
the u hundred mean and dishonest artifices " which had
been employed u to discredit the edition and cry down
the editor " during the period he had been engaged in
its preparation.1 This was far from being an over-
statement. Something of the spirit which pervaded
these utterances can be gathered from the elaborate
attack of Mallet already described. The lighter assaults
can be represented by a single epigram, which in all
probability came from the pen of Pope himself. It was
certainly printed in a volume which was brought out
under his supervision. It was headed " On a Lady who

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i., Preface, p. xlix.

439

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

subscribed forty Pounds to Tibbald's Shakespear," and
read as follows : —

"An Empress once gave Virgil many a pound;
For what? for writing things that made her swoond:
The same why shou'd not then Sempronia do,
To Tib. for writing things that make one Sp — ." 1

In spite of all the difficulties and discouragements in
his path Theobald carried through his work to a suc-
cessful completion. He had a right to felicitate himself
upon the fact. It was mainly due to the high reputa-
tion he had acquired among all those competent to
judge by what Pope had called some " single remark or
poor conjecture on some word or pointing of Shake-
spear." No better proof can, perhaps, be adduced of
the confidence which had come to be felt in him than
the list of subscribers he was enabled to secure. The
mere statistics are, what statistics usually are not, ex-
ceedingly informing. To Theobald's edition there were
four hundred and twenty-eight subscribers, who took
nearly five hundred copies, as against four hundred and
eleven to the edition of his predecessor, who took about
four hundred and fifty copies. In a way the comparison
is unfair. The lower price was distinctly in favor of
the later work. But against this is to be set the over-
whelming reputation of Pope as the greatest man of
letters of the age, as contrasted with any pretensions
possessed by an obscure scholar whose only recom-
mendation was that he knew his subject.

Even had the numbers been the same, there was no

1 Epigram VIII. in ' Collection of Pieces occasioned by the Dunciad,'
1732.

440

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

questioning the superiority in character of the names on
Theobald's list. We need not lay too much stress upon
the favor shown the work by members of the highest
nobility. Of these there were many among the sub-
scribers, beginning with the Prince and the Princess
of Wales. Still, in this respect his edition did not sur-
pass Pope's. Far more striking to us is the number of
names of those eminent in the world of art and science
and letters. Among them can be found the great
scholar Bentley, the antiquary Martin Folkes, the phy-
sicians Richard Mead and Hans Sloane, the coming
novelists Richardson and Fielding, the painter Hogarth,
the poet Young, the actors Booth, Quin, and the Gibbers,
father and son, and the greatest of living Englishwomen
of letters, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Not to be
passed over is the future commentator John Upton, nor
the future editor Warburton. These names and those
of several others that could be mentioned could never
have been secured for the work of a man who was gen-
erally reputed dull.

By Theobald himself this subscription must have
been looked upon as a great personal triumph. He
had been held up to scorn as the dunce of dunces
in the most brilliant satire in the language. Hos-
tility had not ceased with its production. He had
been pursued during the years which followed its
appearance with every species of attack that malice
could inspire or wit envenom. Yet unknown to the
multitudes unfriended by but few of the powerful, hav-
ing against him the active and unscrupulous enmity of
the greatest genius of the age, he had overcome all

441

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

obstacles by the sheer force of the confidence the public
had come to feel in what he would do, from its knowl-
edge of what he had done. The men who knew some-
thing about Shakespeare had demanded the work.
They were not to be overawed by the clamor of the men
who knew little or nothing about him, or about what it
was necessary to do in order to establish the text. The
wishes of this portion of the educated community had to
be considered. We may be sure that it was no abstract
love of justice that led Tonson to take part with others
in the publication of a new edition which, if successful,
would put an end to the hope of any further profit from
the one of which he was the exclusive proprietor.

Undoubtedly this persistent depreciation of the work
produced no small effect at the time. It may be that
more even to that than to the labor involved was due
the delay in its publication. We know that full two
years before it appeared Theobald was engaged in the
preparation of its preface.1 The frequent attacks upon
him and it must have distinctly hindered the securing of
subscriptions upon which its success depended, and may
have even rendered the actual bringing it out problemat-
ical. The day of its completion kept constantly receding.
Announcements were made from time to time of the
speedy appearance of something which failed to appear.
Naturally his enemies took occasion to suggest that he
was extorting money from his subscribers without
designing to give them anything in return.2 As the
date of its actual publication approached, the journals of

1 Nichols, vol. ii. pp. 621, 626.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i., Treface, p. lxiv.

442

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

the day reveal the progress he was making. " We hear,"
says a news item of January, 1738, u such despatch is
made in printing Mr. Theobald's edition of Shakespear,
and the same is in so much forwardness, that it may be
expected that the whole will be ready for the subscrib-
ers in a very short time." 1 In the following April
an advertisement announced that the whole work was
almost printed off, that complete volumes were to be
seen at the editor's home, and that the subscription
would be closed at the latter end of the month.2

Mallet, according to his own account, generously
waited for the conclusion of the subscription before he
brought out his poetical essay on ' Verbal Criticism ' in
which he assailed with equal ignorance and virulence
Theobald and Bentley. He labored indeed under the
peculiar moral incapability which beset Pope and his
partisans of telling the exact truth whenever anything
could be gained by making the statement inexact. The
subscription was not to close till the end of April, even
if there occurred then no extension of the time. Mal-
let's attack upon the editor appeared in the middle of
the same month. It pretty clearly fell flat from the
press, and the amiable designs of its deviser and
encourager were in consequence of no avail. The sub-
scription was at last satisfactorily completed. Yet pub-
lication did not follow speedily after the books seem to
have been closed. It was not till the early part of the
next year that the edition made its appearance. An
advertisement in the daily papers of January, 1734,
announced that on the 24th of the month the work

1 Daily Journal, .January 18, 17.™. 2 Il>id. April 5, 1733.

448

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

would be published.1 Notice was given that the books
in quires would then be delivered to subscribers at the
house of the editor in Wyan's Court, Great Russell
Street, where he would be in attendance all day long for
the purpose, and where the few copies, as yet unsub-
scribed for, could be secured. Accordingly on the 24th
of January, 1734, the copies were ready for issuing ; but
as they bear the date of 1733 the edition is usually
spoken of as belonging to that year.

The success of the work was immediate and pro-
nounced. Contemporary records show the favorable
estimate which was everywhere taken of it. Its su-
periority to any edition which had preceded it was so
manifest that in a short time it was perceived that any
attempts to depreciate it were sure to recoil upon the
heads of those who put them forth. ' The Grub-street
Journal,' true to the object of its creation, was disposed
at first to assail the work in the way which had now be-
come habitual with the followers of Pope. About two
months after its delivery to subscribers an attack was
made upon it in that paper by an anonymous contrib-
utor. He was good enough to say that he did not de-
preciate literal criticism, but he would not have those

1"On Thursday next (the 24th instant) will be published by subscrip-
tion Shakespeare's Plays in 7 volumes in octavo. With notes explana-
tory and critical. By Mr. Theobald.

"N. B. The books in quires will be delivered to the subscribers at the
editor's house in Wyan's Court in Great Russell St., Blomcsbury ; where
attendance will be given all day long for that purpose, and where the few
copies, yet unsubscribed, are to be had." ( Daily Journal, Friday, January
18, 1734.) On January 24 an advertisement in the same paper announced
the work as that day published. This advertisement was frequently
repeated.

444

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

" whose talents are confined to literals, arrogate to them-
selves the name of critic." That term, he was careful
to inform us, was derived from a Greek word signifying
* judge.' What sort of a judge would he be, he went on
triumphantly to ask, who " instead of considering the
merits of the whole cause, should entirely busy himself
in examining the phrases and carping at the language
of those that were before him ? " Such men might be
entitled to the designations of literal commentator, scho-
liast, nomenclaturist, or any less name that could be
invented; but that of critic or judge was above them.
It is, he added, the fate of the greatest and brightest
geniuses to be commented on, and to comment upon
them is the task of the heaviest and the most narrow
of pedants.

This was the general attitude of the writer of the
article. The attack he now proceeded to make spe-
cific. Fellows like these he had been describing confer
upon every arbitrary alteration they make the name of
an emendation. In fact, they had arrived, he tells us,
at such a degree of insolence that like footmen got into
their masters' coaches, it was no longer Bentley at the
tail of Horace, or Theobald at the tail of Shakespear;
but as if the work of these authors had become their
own, they go by the name of Bentley's Horace and
Theobald's Shakespear. The last of these perform-
ances had just been received by the irate correspond-
ent of the paper. " It is," he said, " such a master-piece
of trifling and vanity as would make an excellent subject
for the public diversion were some I could name disposed
to give it. Our great editor and critic is perpetually tri«

445

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

umpiring like Caligula for having picked up cockle-shells
and periwinkles." 1

Pope may or may not have had anything directly to
do with this communication, accurately as it depicted his
sentiments and clearly as he was pointed out as the one
who could divert the public, were he so disposed, with
this so-called " master-piece of trifling and vanity." But
before the article appeared he had taken pains to do all
that lay in his power to bring the work of his rival editor
into disrepute. Shortly after its appearance, Mallet's
poetical essay on • Verbal Criticism ' was once more ad-
vertised for sale and brought again to the attention of
the public. In the part of his preface in which Theo-
bald had dealt with the attempts to depreciate his as yet
unpublished edition by depreciating verbal criticism it-
self, he had made a contemptuous reference to the piece.
" To this end," he wrote, " and to pay a servile compli-
ment to Mr. Pope, an anonymous writer has, like a Scotch
pedlar in wit, unbraced his pack on the subject. But
that his virulence might not seem to be levelled singly
at me, he has done me the honor to join Dr. Bentley in
the libel. I was in hopes we should have been both
abused with smartness of satire at least, though not with
solidity of argument; that it might have been worth
some reply in defence of the science attacked. But
I may fairly say of this author as Falstaif does of
Poins; — 'Hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as
Tewkesbury mustard; there is no more conceit in him
than is in a mallet.'"2

1 Grub-street Journal, No. 220, March 14, 1734.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i., Preface, p. lii.

446

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

The point of this sarcastic reference cannot be called
very 'keen, and the pun for which Shakespeare's words
gave the occasion was not of a high type of this lowest
order of wit. But poor as it was, it stirred up Pope
and seems even to have penetrated Mallet's thick cu-
ticle. Neither of them appeared ostensibly in reply;
but in the reissue of the poem the publisher was obliged
to come forward in its defence against this attack. lie
accompanied the advertisement of it with some remarks
which purport to proceed from himself, but which, it is
hardly necessary to observe, were never of his composi-
tion. They were avowedly suggested by the extract just
quoted from Theobald's preface. It was common, Gilli-
ver was made to say, for booksellers to recommend the
pieces they publish, whether the compliment be paid by
the author to himself or by one of his friends. It was
something altogether new for them to mention what
was said in dispraise. This however he purposed to
do. " I will own ingeniously to the town," he contin-
ued, " that Mr. Lewis Theobald (a literal critic I think
he calls himself) has seriously declared in the preface to
Jtis Shakespear, he can see, for his part, no manner of
conceit, wit or joke whatever in the poem I here
advertise." 1

The task imposed upon the unfortunate publisher
was not limited to this advertisement. In the follow-
ing week he returned to the subject in a communication
which appeared in the 4 Grub-street Journal ' under his
own signature.2 It was manifestly written by Pope, with

1 Grub-street Journal, No. '218, Feb. 128, 17:J4.
* Ibid. No. 219, March 7, 1734.
-117

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the possible assistance of Mallet, though the wit dis-
played in it did not require a conjunction of the abilities
of the two. It is indeed a fair specimen of the dreary
sarcasm with which Theobald's emendations of Shake-
speare were attacked in the wisely discarded notes to
the early editions of * The Dunciad.' Gilliver professed
in his letter that it was not the province of one who
was only a seller of books to invade the high province of
one who says that he is a restorer of them. The 'Epis-
tle on Verbal Criticism,' it was asserted, had put Theo-
bald so grievously out of temper that he had affirmed
that the author of the poem was a baboon, a pedlar, and
that his wit was as thick as Tewkesbury mustard. But
this comparison, though taken from Shakespeare, was
unfortunate. Mustard was famous for biting sharply
and for taking people by the nose. These were quali-
ties which the editor would naturally be unwilling to
concede either to the piece or its writer. Out of pure
friendship the publisher would therefore help him out
by roundly asserting that it was a spurious reading in
all the editions, and could easily be rectified by an
obvious correction which was just as well grounded as
any three in five hundred of his own. All that was
needed was to change m into c, "and you have the
passage in its original purity, exactly as Mr. Theobald
will wish he had read it." The harmless custard will
then take the place of the poignant mustard. To
confirm this alteration the index to Peter Langtoft's
' Chronicle ' had been consulted. There it was found
that Tewkesbury was then famous for custard. Gilliver
undoubtedly reaped money and repute in his occupation

448

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

as a consequence of being Pope's publisher ; but he had
to pay a heavy price for it in being compelled to father
labored trash of this sort.

But the favor with which the work was generally
received came speedily to overawe the 4 Grub-Street
Journal ' itself. Even those who sought to discredit the
edition did not venture to attack in it what was the
only legitimate subject of attack. Any fault found in
details was directed not to Theobald's emendations of
Shakespeare but to those of Greek authors. In his
defence of literal criticism he had unfortunately inserted
several of these into his preface — unfortunately, not
because they were doubtless wrong, but because they
were both uncalled-for and dreadfully out of place. It
was these and these only that any one of his assailants
then ventured to criticise. The truth is that the repu-
tation of Theobald as the best Shakespeare scholar of
his time was now so generally recognized that no one
cared to come in conflict with him on specific points. '
Even the ' Grub-street Journal ' was compelled to bow
to the verdict of the public. It growled, but it did not
venture to bite. It admitted, in fact, a letter from a
correspondent who criticised Theobald on certain points
but who at the same time paid him marked deference.
" The late edition of Shakespeare," he said, "is such
an one as I think will give the highest pleasure to all
lovers of that poet ; and at the same time must forever
silence all the little wits who abuse literal criticism."
What he objected to was the unnecessary introduction
of emendations from the Greek which were contained
in the preface. Some of these he controverted; but
29 449

yJ'

ifr

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

in controverting them he was polite and respectful.
" Mr. T.," he said in conclusion, " had not the least
occasion to call in assistance from Greece in order to
maintain the title he so ineontestably possesses of the
best English critic." 1

The high praise which was accorded in this article
was made even more significant by the grudging com-
ments which accompanied it from the editor of the
journal. The impression produced by Theobald upon
the public had clearly cowed a writer who for years had
opened the columns of his paper to derisive remarks
upon the man and his undertaking. Anxious to cen-
sure, he feared to contradict his contributor, whoever he
was. He did not venture, he said, to affirm that the
emendations of Shakespeare were wrong; they were
only to be suspected. Theobald himself, after the
systematic campaign of misrepresentation and abuse
which had been carried on against him in this particular
sheet was naturally distrustful of compliments coming
from that quarter. Still, as there seemed to be no rea-
son, and pretty surely there was none, to question the
sincerity of the writer of the article just mentioned, he
sent a reply. " Though I had little thought," he wrote,
" of becoming a correspondent to your journal, yet when
I am attacked with decency, I look upon it as much
a justice to the world to retract any error I commit, as it
is a justice to myself to defend 2 against an ungrounded
accusation. Whenever idle scurrilities are thrown at
me, I shall take the liberty of passing them over in
silence ; but as your paper is the vehicle for all reflec-

1 Grub-street Journal, No. 229, May 16, 1734. 2 Sic.

450

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

tions levelled at me, I must expect from your professed
impartiality, it will be equally vacant to my justification
of myself."1 Theobald then went on to consider in this
and a later number 2 the criticisms made upon his emen-
dations of Greek texts. They do not concern us here ;
but no one reading them can fail to be struck by the
scholarly spirit with which they are animated. The
hostile editor, indeed, in his comments upon the first
article could not but admit that its writer was plainly
contending for truth more than victory.

One of the earliest to congratulate Theobald upon the
success of his work was the man who was later to attain
special prominence as the calumniator of his dead friend
and the impudent appropriator of his merits. " I rejoice
heartily," wrote Warburton the following May, "in your
good fortunes and am glad to find the town in a disposi-
tion to do you justice." 3 About a month after, he sent
him a bundle of comments and corrections which con-
tained, he said, all that he could find to cavil at in the
edition. aI have been so exact," he wrote, "in my
inquisitorial search after faults that I dare undertake to
defend every note throughout the whole bulky work
save these thirteen I have objected to."4 A little
earlier he had also forwarded fifty emendations and re-
marks which he had transcribed from those previously
sent, but which Theobald had failed to use. These he
regarded as being better than any of those published.
He desired to have them included in the volume con-

1 (i nil (-.street Journal, No. 2:52, June 6, 1734.

2 Ibid. No. 234, June 20, 17'54.

8 Letter of May 17, 1784, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 634.
4 Letter of June 20, 1784, Ibid. p. 045.

451

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

taining the minor poems, which was then expected to
appear speedily.1 Most of them have since been printed.
There are among them a few comments which are worth
consideration, especially some acute remarks upon the
observation of the unities in 4 The Tempest.' But gen-
erally speaking, there would have been little loss to
learning or literature if the great majority of them had
been suffered to remain in the state of manuscript.
Warburton naturally took an entirely different view of
their value. In the preface to his own edition he re-
presented Theobald as having sequestered them for the
benefit of some future edition of his own. Yet he
could not but have been well aware that an opportunity
of the sort had already been furnished and had not been
improved.

Any previous neglect on Theobald's part to reply to
the persistent attacks which Pope had been making
upon him directly or indirectly was fully made up in
the notes to this edition. Not that there were any re-
flections upon the poet as a man. There is but one
instance in which anything can be tortured into the
shape of a personal allusion of this sort. Even then it
is couched in the form of a general statement, the par-
ticular application of which is a matter of inference and
not of assertion.2 But if the man was spared, there was
no restraint exhibited in speaking of the editor. Theo-
bald's exposure of Pope's shortcomings was thorough-
going. There was not a play in which illustrations were
not furnished of his carelessness, his blunders, and his

1 Letters of May 17 and June 2, 1734, ibid. pp. 634, 635.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 419.

452

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

ignorance. He pointed out places where words or
phrases or lines essential to the meaning had been
dropped from the text, either by accident or incompre-
hensible intention. He pointed o nt unauthorized changes
which had been made because the editor did not under-
stand what the character was trying to say. He pointed
out passages where the punctuation employed had had
the effect of forcing upon the sentence an inferior or
utterly erroneous interpretation.

Even when Pope had followed the text of some one of
the early authorities, it was no difficult matter for Theo-
bald to show how lamentable had been his failure.
According to him an unhappy fatality hung over his
predecessor, wherever there was a various reading, of
espousing the wrong one. It must be admitted that
words and passages found at times in the poet's text
furnish a singular commentary upon that superiority of
taste for which it subsequently became the fashion to
give him credit. One instance must suffice. In one of
his soliloquies Hamlet contrasts his failure to do any-
thing with his readiness to unpack his heart with words.
In the folio text he speaks of himself as falling M a-curs-
ing, like a very drab, A scullion." For this last word
the quartos, excepting the first, had, strangely enough,
'stallion.' This, Pope adopted in his edition. The
choice was a singular one. The ability of a stallion
to curse is a phenomenon in nature which lias escaped
the attention of even those to whom the horse is the
central figure of creation about which men revolve
as mere accessories. Theobald's alteration of scullion
into cullion was as bad as it was unnecessary ; but

453

THE TEXT OE SHAKESPEARE

there is nothing about it of the hopeless absurdity of
stallion.

Much more often, however, did the critic have occasion
to call attention to Pope's wanton neglect of the early
authorities, his blind following of the text of Rowe
when a far superior reading would have been furnished
had he consulted the original editions which he pre-
tended to have collated. Furthermore the declaration
put forth by the poet in his preface that no innovations
had been made save ex fide codicum gave occasion for
comment which was sedulously improved. Reading
after reading was pointed out wliich was purely of
Pope's own manufacture. It had been manufactured
too either because he had not consulted the original
text or had not understood it. In truth, "the late
learned editor," as Theobald sarcastically designated his
predecessor,1 was, according to him, equally unhappy in
his indolence and in his industry. Each led him into
error. His sophistications of the text were made with
as little reason as authority. The general tenor of Theo-
bald's comments can be gathered from part of a note upon
one passage. In \ Richard II.' the queen, mournfully
contemplating the revolution which is impending, is
represented, at the approach of the gardeners, as wager-
ing, though that particular word, while understood, is
not expressed,

" My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
They 'Jl talk of state." 2

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 19 ; vol. iii. p. 317.

2 Act iii., scene 4.

454

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

For the first line as found in the original editions Pope
gave the following extraordinary reading :

"My wretchedness suits with a row of pines." 1

" This is merely, I presume," commented Theobald,
" ex cathedra Popiana, for I can find no authority for it
any more than any sense in it." 2

At the same time it is fair to free Theobald from the
charge of following up and dwelling upon every petty
oversight and mistake committed by his predecessor.
This was an assertion then not unfrequently made and
has since been sometimes repeated. Theobald himself
gave a much nearer idea of the truth in the comment he
published upon a line left imperfect by Rowe, and as a
result, so left by Pope. This he filled out from the
original edition. "I have restored," he added, " an
infinite number of such passages tacitly from the first
impression." 3 The employment of * infinite ' here is the
loosest of loose usage; but there wras certainly a large
number of corrections made in Theobald's text on the
authority of the early copies, but made silently. Fur-
thermore, he not unfrequently passed by, without com-
ment, instances of scandalous neglect on Pope's part.
These may sometimes have had their origin in the care-
lessness of the proof-reader. They could have been
retained, however, only by the contributory negligence
of the editor. Take, as an illustration, the passage in
' The Tempest' in which Caliban, in his new-born zeal for

1 Pope's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 152. (This volume is paged twice
from 91 to 203.)

■ Theobald'* Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 310.
s Ibid. vol. i. p. 384.

466

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Stephano, promises to procure for him "young scamels
from the rock." 2 From the beginning this passage has
been a puzzle. The scamel is a dweller of the rocks
only in that enchanted island in which the scene of the
play is laid. Nowhere else has its existence been traced.
The term has hitherto defied all conjectures which all
men agree in accepting as satisfactory. Accordingly,
the mystery which from the first surrounded it still
envelops it. Theobald in his text substituted for it
shamois ; but suggested as possible readings sea-malls or
stannels. Pope left it as he found it, but made no com-
ment and attempted no explanation. But he contrib-
uted to the passage an additional mystery of his own.
In both of his editions Caliban tells his new-chosen lord
that he would get him " young scamels of the ock." Of
this new reading Theobald said nothing.

No one who knows anything of Pope could expect
that the revelation made of his indolence and incapacity
would ever be forgiven. Nor was the poet confounded,
though he was irritated, by the favor with which the
new edition was received. The 'Grub-street Journal '
might flinch ; but no thought occurred to him of follow-
ing in its footsteps. Still he made no direct reply to
the criticism passed upon the way he had done his work.
He recognized the wisdom of ignoring the exposure of
blunders which it would have been worse than folly to
attempt to defend. He was also aware of the advantage
a great popular author gains in any controversy by
merely maintaining the same attitude. No one was
ever less animated than Pope with the spirit of the gen-

1 Act ii., scene 2.

456

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

uine scholar in preferring truth to victory. It was the
latter alone for which he contended; and for securing
it no one believed more firmly in the impolicy of re-
tracting any charge, however unfounded, of acknowl-
edging any error, however manifest, or of discontinuing
any attacks upon an opponent. But he had no notion
of descending into particulars. He was wise enough to
know that it was only by indirect methods and glitter-
ing generalities that he could hope to break the force of
the disclosure which had been made of his negligence
and incompetence. To these methods he at once
resorted.

Mallet's 'Epistle on Verbal Criticism' was brought
out again the following month as if it were a new work.1
An extract from it attacking Theobald was furthermore
inserted in the most widely circulated magazine of the
period.2 In the undated edition of ' The Dunciad,' pretty
certainly belonging to 1734, he printed these same lines,
and Avith them some remarks which held, with slight
verbal changes, their place in all later editions till the
recast of the whole poem in 1743. It was a general
criticism of Theobald's work, conveyed in some sen-
tences added to the note, which contained the false
assertion that Theobald was in the habit of contribut-
ing frequent emendations of Shakespeare to ' Mist's
Journal.' " He since," were the further words, " pub-
lished an edition of Shakespear, with alterations of
the text, upon bare conjectures either of his own, or
any others who sent them to him, to which Mr. M.

1 Sec Advertisement in ' Grub-street Journal,' No. 218, Feb. 28, 1734.
- Gentleman's Magazine, vol. iv. p. 135, March, 1734.

457

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

alludes in these verses of his excellent poem on Verbal
Criticism :

"' He with low industry goes gleaning on,

From good, from bad, from mean, neglecting none :
His brother bookworm so, on shelf or stall,
Will feed alike on Woolston and on Paul —
Such the grave bird in northern seas is found,
(Whose name a Dutchman only knows to sound)
Where'er the king of fish moves on before,
This humble friend attends from shore to shore ;
With eye still earnest, and with bill declined,
He picks up what his patron drops behind ;
With such choice cates his palate to regale,
And is the careful Tibbald of a whale.' " 1

Exhibitions of petty spite like these had little or no
effect at the time. In fact the repute of Theobald's
work continued long to maintain itself over those which
speedily followed — not merely over those which with all
its defects it was plainly seen to surpass, but even over
that of Capell, which the men of that period failed utterly
to appreciate. It was in another way and through other
agencies that Pope was enabled to make his hostile
opinion of his rival prevail. During all these years he
had been laboring in a field where the harvest was great
and the reward he received abundant. Towards secur-
ing one point of vantage he had unceasingly directed
his efforts. He reached it and held it firmly against
all his adversaries. The result was that what Pope
could never have accomplished directly, he succeeded
in doing indirectly. The position he gained gave him
a superiority over Theobald in the estimate of men

1 Note to line 164 of Book I, 'Punciad ' (n. d.), p. 97.

453

THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION

against which the superiority of his opponent in the
particular field where they had come into conflict did
not enable him to maintain his ground. This fact
will come out distinctly in the later account of the
controversy.

459

CHAPTER XXII

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

Even in a generation which had the slightest pos-
sible appreciation of what constituted scholarship in
English, Pope's inferiority was fully recognized when-
ever the real questions in dispute between him and
Theobald came up for consideration. That fact the
comparative sale of the two editions proves incontest-
ably. The superiority of the latter work was not to
be shaken by any direct assault. It might have been
supposed, therefore, that Theobald would emerge tri-
umphant from the controversy. But there was an ally
righting on Pope's side that was worth the whole host
of his volunteer assistants and hired retainers. He had
genius ; at best his adversaries had but talent. It was
genius, too, peculiarly suited to the taste of his age. It
brought him immense popularity; and he added to the
effect it wrought by putting forth unceasing activity in his
own behalf. Before his genius the efforts of his antag-
onists proved less and less potent with the general
public. Belief in it, great as it had been previously,
was immensely broadened and deepened in the decade
which followed the publication of 'The Dunciad.' Dur-
ing that period he produced a number of poems which
lifted him to a height of intellectual eminence never so

460

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

universally recognized by contemporaries in the case of
any other author of our literature. This was supple-
mented by a series of contrivances which raised him
in the opinion of a majority of the men of the time to
a moral elevation equally lofty. The success in the
one case was legitimate ; in the other it was more than
illegitimate, it was fraudulent. None the less was it
then regarded by the world as genuine.

The exact character of Pope has always been one
of the most puzzling problems which the student of
English literary history has been called upon to solve.
A work like this, dealing with but one side of it, and
by no means a pleasing side, gives of it almost inevi-
tably a distorted view. Yet to the harshest judgment
in the way of utter condemnation there is one sufficient
reply. During his whole life a large number of persons,
distinguished by worth and ability, were Pope's warm
friends. Those of them who died before him were
devoted to him to the last; those who survived him
remained faithful to his memory. Doubtless some,
among the many with whom he associated intimately,
attached themselves to him from motives purely selfish.
Others there were who were attracted by his genius and
his intellectual eminence. Their homage was to the
poet, and not to the man. But there can be no ques-
tion as to the genuine and unselfish affection felt by
others. No man receives and retains the enthusiastic
devotion of a large body of friends without having
positive qualities which demand and deserve it.

Pope's nature was in fact both affectionate and benev-
olent. His regard for those he loved found its fullest

461

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

manifestation in the devotion lie exhibited to his mother.
But to all with whom he was connected by ties of
kinship or affection he continued attached through good
report and ill report, through all changes of circum-
stance or reverses of fortune. Never was there a man
more loyal to his friends. Their interests he was ever
eager to subserve; to be of help to them he gave time
and thought and money. No one felt more keenly
than he the vacancy occasioned by their absence or
death. But his benevolence extended beyond his im-
mediate circle. If he looked out for his own advan-
tage in securing for himself what he had earned; if at
times he drove a hard bargain when he could well
have afforded to be generous; no one was more open-
handed than he in giving to those who for any reason
had excited his compassion. Add to this that in an age
when the character of men of letters had been largely
degraded by fawning upon men of wealth and position,
Pope had an honorable desire to owe his support to
his own exertions. He was utterly free from the con-
temptible vanity from which his literary contemporaries
and successors suffered, that it was not the province
of a gentleman to receive money for what he wrote.
He occupies a prominent place on the roll of authors,
containing among others the great names of Shake-
speare and Tennyson, who have made their fortune by
the pen. For the sake of securing and maintaining
independence he husbanded his resources. Because he
did so, he was charged with greed for money, with
avarice. But to those who knew how he spent what
he earned, who knew in consequence the genuine be-

462

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

nevolence of bis nature, he could appeal confidently in
the picture he drew of himself in his writings, if in this
portrayal he had exaggerated the lineaments.

So much must in justice be said in a work which is
forced to portray the darker side of a character in some
ways estimable. But he who wishes to retain admira-
tion and even respect for Pope must sedulously refrain
from looking too minutely into his dealings with those
with whom lie came into collision in even the slightest
degree. An atmosphere of deceit, chicanery, and fraud
envelops in such cases everything he did or said. The
account given here of his course in relation to Theobald
shows of itself that to carry out his ends there was no
form of equivocation to which he would not resort, no
kind of misrepresentation in which he would not indulge,
no meanness of trickery to which he would not stoop.
There is no author of his rank and genius who ever
engaged in more disreputable devices to raise his own
reputation or to ruin that of his antagonists or sup-
posed antagonists. No assertion of his can be trusted
whenever it was his interest to make things look dif-
ferent from what they really were. There was in his
nature an inherent love of intrigue. His friends could
not well help being aware of it as well as his enemies.
But as it was manifested towards the men they dis-
liked or towards whom they felt indifference, they
called it strategy. At worst they looked upon it as
a mere weakness, a petty flaw which had even the
effect of making his other qualities shine out more
brilliantly by contrast.

But devious as was the path he trod, there can be no

463

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

denial of the skill with which he trod it. Never had
any one the like success in securing by worse than ques-
tionable means the most exalted reputation for integrity.
He imposed largely upon his contemporaries ; upon pos-
terity, until a comparatively late period, he has imposed
even more largely. His good fortune in this matter was
due mainly to the extravagant estimate which came to
be taken of his genius and of the loftiness of his char-
acter. The latter was largely the consequent of the
former. The men who admired him believed in him
implicitly and believed whatever he said about himself
or others. A certain respect must always be paid to the
generous if misplaced devotion which genius inspires.
The partisans of Pope reverenced an ideal creation which
the author had skilfully fashioned. What is now known
to every student of the period, what was in a measure
known to a goodly number at the time, would not have
been credited by the poet's admirers, had one risen from
the dead to confirm its truth. Before the combined
agencies of his then accepted intellectual and moral
greatness his enemies went down. If in his direct at-
tacks upon Theobald lie failed, indirectly he was success-
ful in converting actual defeat into apparent victory.

Few men of our day comprehend the commanding
intellectual position held by Pope during the latter
period of his life and for a long period after his death.
There has never been anything approaching it in the
history of our own literature or of any literature. In
the opinion of vast numbers he was not merely the great-
est English poet of his time, but the greatest English
poet of all time ; not merely the greatest of English

464

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

poets, but the greatest of all poets that ever existed.
Even those who took the lowest estimate of his character
— and of such there was no small number — entertained
the highest admiration for his genius. They expressed
themselves with an extravagance of praise which as-
tounds the modern reader, too apt to go to the other
extreme of unwarranted depreciation. They did not
content themselves with according him mere greatness ;
to him belonged perfect greatness. It was assumed by
his friends as a matter of course ; it was conceded by the
indifferent and even by those personally hostile. As one
illustration out of many, a poem appeared in 1733 enti-
tled " An Epistle to the Little Satyrist of Twickenham."
It was full of the severest reflections upon Pope's char-
acter. It spoke of him as an object of universal scorn.
It charged him with being under the influence of ill-
nature, spleen, envy, malice, and avarice. Yet it admitted
that not only in early youth did he surpass others, but
that his powers had increased with advancing years,

" Till to perfection you at last arriv'd,
Which none have e'er excell'd that ever liv'd." 1

This was no sentiment of a solitary individual. It
was a widespread feeling at the time; and it did not
die out suddenly. If anything the belief increased in
strength after Pope's death. We can get some idea of
its force by the few verses summing up his character
which were immediately produced by the man against
whom for a quarter of a century the poet had been di-
recting the shafts of his satire. The year before Pope

i Page 5.
30 405

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

died Colley Gibber had been substituted in place of
Theobald as the hero of the Dunciad. He had every
reason to feel and express the bitterest resentment
against the author of the satire, so far as a nature
almost absolutely free from rancor could entertain
such a sentiment. Yet of his persistent detractor he
said in all sincerity in the poem which he called an
epitaph,

"None e'er reached such heights of Helicon." 1

If men who felt hostility, or had a right to feel hos-
tility, could indulge in tributes of this sort to his great-
ness, we can easily imagine what would be the attitude
of the so-called impartial or of the partisan. Two or
three quotations will suffice to show their point of view.
In 1752 Chesterfield wrote to a foreign correspondent
that in the face of the collective pedants of the universe
he dared to say that the Epistles and Satires of Pope
had all the good sense and propriety of Horace's with a
thousand times more spirit.2 A much more emphatic
opinion of the poet's abilities had been expressed a few
years before by a somewhat noted miscellaneous author
of the time. In a treatise published in May, 1747,3
William Guthrie was good enough to commend Shake-
speare and Otway as dramatists. He added, however,
that he was not afraid to say that when " they com-
menced poets, they make a sorry figure." Nor was he
further afraid to declare that similar would have been
the fate of " the greatest of our modern poets, and per-

1 Scots Magazine, June, 1744, vol. vi. p. 327.

2 Letter to Kreuningen, July 7, 1752.

3 Guthrie, ' Remarks on Tragedy,' p. 27,

466

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

haps a poet whose superior antiquity never saAV, and
whose equal posterity must not expect," if he in turn
had attempted to write a tragedy.

But a more striking instance still is the dispute that
went on between Spence and Henry Brooke, who preserves
a lingering reputation as a novelist, though his poetry has
long been forgotten. The former maintained that Tope
was the greatest poet the world had ever produced. The
latter at the time of the conversation was unwilling to
take ground so extreme. He declared that Virgil gave
him equal pleasure, Homer equal warmth, Shakespeare
greater rapture, and Milton more astonishment. But he
saw later, according to his own assertion, that he had
been indisposed to accord the poet his due praise. He
had not then really entered into the spirit of his work.
He had now come, he said, to the conclusion that any
one of Pope's original pieces was indisputably a more
finished and perfect piece than had ever been written by
any one man. But his genius was dwarfed to the eye
by the excellence of so many different parts. Each dis-
tinct performance was as the performance of a separate
author. As no single one was large enough to con-
tain the poet in his full dimensions, lie though perfectly
drawn appeared too much in miniature. Brooke was
inclined to be angry that Pope had devoted so much
time to improving Homer. He should have spent it in
excelling him in bis own way.1

In so expressing himself Brooke declared that he was
speaking " the ruder parts" of his sincerity. Imagina-
tion exhausts itself in conceiving what he could have

1 Pop^g' Works,' vol. x. p. 220,

467

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

said had he set out to impart the more urbane revelation
of his feelings. But the view he took, however ridiculous
it seems to us, was shared by large numbers of his con-
temporaries, perhaps by the majority. A few years after
Pope's death a similar attitude was assumed by the
essayist John Brown. This author is now known to
most of us, so far as he is known to any of us, by the
treatise called ' An Estimate of the Manners and Princi-
ples of the Times.' This work was published in 1757,
just as England had entered upon that career of con-
quest and glory which she achieved in the Seven Years'
War. It demonstrated in a way that could not be gain-
said that, in consequence of the general prevalence of
luxury and effeminacy, the country was on the down-
ward road, that she was henceforth destined to failure
and to take a distinctly lower place among the nations.
Brown's literary judgments were on a par with his
political. He wrote a poetical ' Essay on Satire,' which
was printed in 1748 in Dodsley's ' Collection.' In it the
author laid down the proposition that no one could ex-
press adequately the greatness of Pope's genius unless
he had himself the genius of Pope:

" Who yonder star's effulgence can display
Unless he dip his pencil in the ray ?
Who paint a God, unless the God inspire ?
Who catch the lightning but the speed of fire ?
So, mighty Pope, to make thy genius known,
All pow'r is weak, all numbers — but thy own." 1

As if a belief of this sort were not enough, Pope
succeeded in gaining with the multitude of readers a

1 Dodsley's ' Collection/ vol. iii. p. 335.

468

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

reputation for moral elevation which was the comple-
ment of his intellectual greatness. This was as little
the result of accident as it was of desert. It was a direct
consequence of patient and persistent effort directed to
that very end. In its way it was for Pope a greater
triumph than was his translation of Homer. It was
achieved in the face of difficulties to all appearance far
more insuperable ; for his devious ways were well known
to numbers among his contemporaries. Any exposure
of them, however, lie could and did profess to regard as
the outcome of envy, hatred, and malignity. His admirers,
who were legion, were certain to disbelieve what he was
charged with doing and were equally certain to believe
everything about himself which he kept saying. Hence,
while engaged in practices from which an honorable man
would have shrunk with disgust, while making declara-
tions which a truthful man would have regarded with
abhorrence, his voice could be constantly heard, enun-
ciating the noblest sentiments, proclaiming the loftiness
of his motives, the integrity of his character, his scorn
of everything that was underhand and discreditable and
mendacious. To the modern reader, now rendered fully
aware of his method of proceeding, there is something
almost comical in the assertion he made in one of the
greatest of his poems, that it was

" One poet's praise
That if ho pleased, ho pleased by manly ways I"1

If there was one quality of character of which Pope had
seemingly no appreciation, it was that of manliness. Yet

1 Epistle to Arlmthnot, 1. 377.

409

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

he deceived others as to his possession of it ; let us
charitably hope that he deceived himself.

It was about 1730 that Pope started out actively in
the practice of the profession of being a good man.
Henceforth he was to be animated by an overpowering
love of virtue and an overpowering hatred of vice. The
attitude he took then he maintained until the day of his
death. His reputation as a poet, he asserted, or intimated,
was but little in his thoughts; what he desired to be
considered was a man of virtue. His heart, he wrote to
Broome, was better than his head.1 Broome's opinion
did not entirely coincide with that of his correspondent ;
but he wisely judged it best to keep it to himself. To
Aaron Hill, Pope wrote that he had never thought much
of his own poetical capacity ; but he knew that his moral
life was much superior to that of most of the wits of the
day.2 Hill brushed aside almost contemptuously this
shallow pretence of indifference to literary reputation ;
but Pope was wiser than his correspondent. He knew
that in the controversies in which he was concerned,
reputation as a man of virtue would stand him in much
better stead than reputation as a man of letters. He was,
therefore, not to be deterred from continuing to give ex-
pression to the same admirable sentiments. It might be,
he conceded, that it was his poetry alone that would cause
him to be remembered. "But it is my morality only,"
he continued solemnly, "that must make me beloved
or happy." Errors in his writings he was willing to

1 Pope's 'Works/ vol. viii. p. 160, letter to Broome, May 2,
1730.

2 Ibid. vol. x. p. 10, letter of January 26, 1731.

470"

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

confess ; " but of my life and manners," he added, " I
do not yet repent one jot." 1

Tributes, therefore, to Pope's intellectual greatness, he
let it be understood, could never be paid him at the ex-
pense of his uprightness. "I much more resent," he
added, " any attempt against my moral character, which
I know to be unjust, than any to lessen my poetical one,
which for all I know may be very just." 2 This fiction
of a preference for being a man of virtue to being a man
of genius he never ceased to uphold. Seven years later
he wrote a^ain to Hill that his character as an honest
man he desired to have spared. On the other hand,
anything could be said in praise or blame of him as a
poet, and it would remain unanswered.3 This pretended
lack of concern about his literary, and deep-seated regard
for his moral, reputation crops out every now and then
in his correspondence. It even extended to the assertion
that he, perhaps the most sensitive and vindictive author
that ever flourished, had become entirely free from the
slight traces of those characteristics which once had
possibly been latent in his nature. " I never had," he
wrote to Lord Marchmont in 1741, " any uneasy desire
of fame or keen resentment of injuries, and now both
are asleep together." 4 This picture of the halcyon
cepose which had overtaken his nature required revision
the very next year. Then he set out recasting 4 The
Dunciad' in consequence of the furious anger into

1 Pope's ' Works/ vol. x. p. 19, letter to Hill, Feb. 5, 1731.

2 Ibid.

8 Ibid. p. 53, letter of June 9,'173&
* [bid. p. 166, letter oi Oct. 10, 1741.

471

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

which he was thrown by the Letter addressed to him by
Gibber.

Many outside circumstances contributed to the spread
of the. belief he was anxious to inspire. Important
among them was the character of his later writings.
The line of poetry which Pope soon took up after the
publication of ' The Dunciad ' was peculiarly favorable
to the creation and extension among the multitude of
that opinion of his moral character which he sought
to have established. He thenceforth produced largely
pieces of a didactic character ; but didactic poetry written
with a point and fervor and fire the want of which has
usually constituted its most distinguishing characteristic.
To use his own words, he left off wandering in the maze
of fancy, but " stooped to truth and moralized his song."
It was during the years in which Theobald's edition of
Shakespeare was preparing for the press that Pope kept
constantly bringing out a succession of works which
spread far and wide his reputation not merely as a poet,
but as a moralist of the highest type. It was the year
following the publication of that edition that witnessed
the culmination and complete success of these efforts.

This year, 1735, was an eventful one in Pope's life.
During it he may be said to have set the seal upon his
reputation for the highest moral excellence, while at the
same time extending and enhancing his literary fame.
He opened it with one of the most brilliant pieces he
ever wrote. This was the ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot,'
already mentioned several times. Under the guise of an
apology for his life it was a renewed attack upon the
whole host of his adversaries, containing, as it were by

472

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

accident, glowing panegyrics upon himself, wrung from
him with apparent naturalness by the calumnies with
which he had been wantonly pursued for years and
which he had hitherto borne in silence. Never was a
work better fitted to effect the object designed. The
piece, to be sure, is full of disingenuous assertions and
contained a number of positively false statements ; but
none of these things were its readers in a position to
know. In it was insidiously inculcated the view, which
he was afterwards to elaborate still more fully, that in
whatever he wrote he was animated by the loftiest mo-
tives. In satirizing those he disliked he was simply
laboring in the cause of virtue.

Theobald was far from being the main occasion of this
production ; but as an incidental one he had in it his
place. Into it was woven, with changes and improve-
ments, the attack on verbal criticism which had already
done duty in the so-called last volume of the ' Miscel-
lanies.' Its specific attack was aimed at him; but the
"sanguine Sewall," who had been his associate in
the earlier form of the satire,1 was now replaced by the
u slashing Bentley." This most effective misrepresenta-
tion of his critic, Pope had embodied now in a produc-
tion which justly excited the highest enthusiasm of his
admirers. It was circulated far and wide. From the day
of its publication to the present time it has never ceased
to exert a damaging effect upon Theobald's reputation.

The 'Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot ' gave the impression
that Pope was even more virtuous than lie was great.
Another agency now came in not merely to confirm this

1 See pu^e 301.

473

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

view, but to establish the truth of it beyond question.
This was the publication of his correspondence. It
came out a little later in this same year, 1785, from the
printing-house of Curll. Its immediate effect was to
raise the popular conception of Pope's character to the
highest point. The trickery has now been laid bare by
which the poet contrived to bring about an apparently
pirated publication of his letters, thereby forcing him to
follow it by a later edition authorized by himself. In
his own age the fact was more than suspected ; to several
persons it was perhaps actually known. But there is
something known now that was not even suspected then.
The lucky chance that led to the discovery, about a half-
century ago, of Caryll's copies of Pope's letters disclosed
the various ways in which he had tampered with his own
correspondence in order to prepare it for publication.
The letters as printed were frequently not the letters as
written. The correspondence, in short, was to no small
extent a manufactured one. It had been manufactured
too for the express purposes of fortifying statements
made by the poet, which were not only doubtful, but
had been doubted ; and even more for the sake of ex-
tending his reputation for being actuated by the loftiest
motives. Part of it had not been written to the persons
to whom it purported to have been written. Further-
more there was a limited portion of it which had pretty
clearly never been written to any one at all.

Still, as the manipulation to which this correspondence
had been subjected was unknown, both at the time and
for more than a century after, English literary criticism
and literary history have been naturally permeated with

474

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

false impressions about the poet and his contemporaries
caused by the belief in its genuineness. Nor have we
as yet recovered entirely from its effects. We can in
some cases, to be sure, arrive at fairly certain conclu-
sions. We can no longer doubt that a portion of the
letters nominally sent to Addison were never received
by the man to whom, as printed, they were addressed.
We can now guess pretty accurately the nature of the
relations between the two authors and comprehend the
difference between what actually took place and what
Pope said took place. We are further safe in saying
that he published a reconstructed correspondence with
Wycherley. This he did, according to his own account,
" to rescue his memory " from the hands of " an unli-
censed and presumptuous mercenary," — by whom he
meant Theobald. He forgot, however, to mention that
this unlicensed and presumptuous mercenary was the
very man who had been selected by the family to edit
the posthumous works of the dramatist. We can feel
altogether confident it was by interpolations and altera-
tions and omissions in this correspondence that he suc-
ceeded in producing upon the world the impression that
the man whose memory he set out to rescue was a vain,
contemptible and irritable old dotard, who resented the
good advice given him by his young friend. Still we
cannot overcome entirely the influence of the printed
page. To this the publication of the original letters,
whenever they existed at all, would have unquestionably
furnished an ample corrective.

The correspondence itself of Pope is not really in-
teresting. His prose was much inferior to his poetry;

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THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

but the prose of his letters was much inferior to his
other prose. A large number of them indeed hardly
deserve the name of letters. There is nothing about
them at all spontaneous. They are little moral essays
which produce the impression that the writer had set
out to think noble thoughts in order to utter them. But
they fully accomplished for him the object for which
they were intended. Even before they were published
he had largely succeeded in creating the belief that he
was animated by the most exalted motives. Virtue and
verse, wrote one of his contemporary panegyrists, were
the objects that filled his soul. But his manipulated
correspondence now proved in a way that could not be
gainsaid that the claims he had made for himself in his
'Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot' were fully justified. Here
was what must have seemed to men the unanticipated
revelation of what was in his inmost heart, disclosed to
those he loved in the artless confidence which is begot
of the sanctity of private communication. Who could
rise from reading these unguarded effusions of the soul
poured forth in the privacy of intimate friendship, but
now exposed to the world by the machinations of a
scoundrelly publisher, without feeling that in their writer
was revealed one of the most unselfish and benevolent of
men, one of the purest and loftiest of natures, indifferent
to mere literary fame, but consumed with a sacred love
for the advancement of morality and virtue ?

The result of these machinations, manipulations, and
fraudulent devices was that during the last years of his
life Pope occupied a position in popular estimation that
has never been held by any other author in our litera-

476

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

ture. He was regarded as not only the sublimest of
poets, but as the best of men. In the eyes of his ad-
mirers he was given up to the pursuit of virtue. In
the seclusion of his home rolled unheeded over his head
the din made by those who resented the fact that he
was the unflinching foe of the vain, the proud, and the
wicked. Never before or since has moral pre-eminence
been obtained by means so immoral. He stood forth to
his admiring countrymen as the .champion of virtue and
the scourge of vice. In the opinions of large numbers
his utterances made or unmade reputations. So great
is the power of self-delusion that it is not impossible,
perhaps it is probable, that Pope believed fully in him-
self. At an earlier period he assured Swift, in all ap-
parent sincerity, that he would not render the characters
he portrayed " less important and less interesting by
sparing vice and folly or by betraying the cause of truth
and virtue.*'

But whatever in his secret heart he thought of him-
self, there is no question as to what was thought of him
by his multitude of readers. In their eyes he was one
who loved righteousness and hated iniquity; therefore
he was an object of hatred to wicked men. There was
a minority — and during his life a strong and not unin-
fluential minority — who saw through the hollowness of
his pretensions and recognized the wide di (Terence be-
tween his professions and his practices. Their feelings
were well expressed by Curl I, who as a rascal himself
had a keen scent for rascality in others. In a letter to
Broome he expressed the then not uncommon opinion
Hut Pope was as well acquainted with (lie art of evasion

477

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

as he was with the art of poetry.1 " Crying came our
bard, into the world," he said later in print, " but lying,
it is greatly to be feared, he will go out of it." But the
opinions of those who disbelieved in him carried little
weight outside of the circle to which they belonged.
Any voice lifted up in protest was largely drowned in
the clamorous enthusiasm of his admirers. As those
too who were fully acquainted with his devices left
behind them no record of what they knew, and rarely
even of what they thought, the information they pos-
sessed and the beliefs they held usually died with them.
Pope's reputation for virtue came in consequence to
increase after the death of himself and of those who
knew him too well.

So well and widely established became this estimate
of the purity and loftiness of his character that, if we
can trust the testimony of the swarm of elegies that
followed immediately upon his decease and indeed con-
tinued for several years afterward, the death of Pope
was not so much to be deplored as a loss to English
literature, irreparable as that was, as it was a loss to
English morals. To adopt the language of a writer
who was so little one of his devotees that he mingled
censure with his praise, " universal goodness felt the
shock." 2 It was the prevalent feeling that now he was
gone, wicked men would come forth from their hiding-
places and wickedness would once more abound in the
land. Dodsley burst out in a eulogistic elegy upon the

1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 1G8, letter of Curll to Broome, July 22,
1735.

2 London Magazine, vol. xiii. p. 461, September, 1744.

478

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

dead poet in which he gave vent to his grief at this
particular prospect.1 According to him,

" Vice, now secure, her blusfaless front shall raise,
And all her triumphs be thro' Britain borne,
Whose worthless sons for guilt shall purchase praise,
Nor dread the hand that pointed the in to scorn."

The following epigram conveying the same idea is
reported to have been spoken extempore on the death
of the poet:

" Vice now may lift aloft her speckled head,
And front the sun undaunted : Pope is dead." 2

The periodical publications of the time and the times
immediately succeeding contain plenty of revelations of
this sort of feeling. According to contemporary testi-
mony there was no longer any possible escape from
the reign of wickedness. More than a year after Pope
was dead, a bard who called himself " a young gentle-
man " attempted, as he said, an epitaph on the poet.
He was manifestly a very young gentleman. The idea
pervading his piece was the hopelessness of saving
the world from ruin, since the main bulwark against
the encroachments of iniquity had been taken away.
In the following lines the writer gave expression to
his sense of the peril that was threatening the future
of the nation :

" Now thou art gone, O ever wondrous bard,
Who shall foul vice's rapid course retard ?

1 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xiv. p. 447, Anguat, 1744.

2 Ibid. p. 386, July, 1744.

479

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Who shall in virtue's sacred cause arise V
Who lash the villain who the law defies ?
Or brand the atheist who his god denies ?
These did thy volumes, fraught with vast delight,
And virtue shin'd by thee supremely bright.
But now she droops, flown is her pleasing hope,
Virtue now mourns that e'er she lost her Pope." 1

About this same time William Thompson, a poet once
somewhat highly thought of but now forgotten, an-
nounced that the dreaded calamity had already arrived.
There was no longer any chance for virtue to maintain
her ground. The mournful result is indicated in lines
celebrating the intellectual greatness of Pope, but di-
verging in the following words to his moral greatness :

"Born to improve the age and cheat mankind
Into the road of honor ! — Vice again
The gilded chariot drives : — For he is dead." 2

This view of the poet's character was neither confined
to a limited number nor to a limited period. Plenty of
illustrations of it could be quoted. Several years later
the Reverend John Delap, a writer never much regarded
and now never remembered, reflected the general senti-
ment in one of his elegies, in which he referred to Pope
as being the u sole terror of a venal age." 3 Mason, in
that dreadful monody entitled 'Musseus,' not content
with celebrating the poet's greatness as a poet, extolled
the courage he had evinced in carrying on his warfare

1 London Magazine, vol. xiv. p. 512, October, 1745.

2 Thompson's 'Sickness,' Book 2 (published April, 1745).
8 Loudon Magazine, yoI. xxix. p. 260, May, 1760.

480

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

against vice in the highest places. He had been the one

author who

" could brave
The venal statesman or the titled slave :
Brand frontless vice, strip all her stars and strings,
Nor spare her basking in the smile of kings."

This belief in the myth of Pope's virtue, though doubt-
less having many private disbelievers, met with scarcely
an expression of public dissent till the last decade of the
eighteenth century. Indeed Hayley discovered that it
was philanthropy pure and simple that had led the
poet to the composition of his satires. For the sake
of overthrowing vice he sacrificed the performance of
what he could have achieved in the higher fields of lit-
erature. " His moral virtues," wrote Hayley, " have
had a tendency to diminish his poetical reputation." l
Faith in this fiction of his surpassing virtue gave way
with the better knowledge of the period which men
came to possess. But how late it retained its hold any
one can see for himself in Thackeray's ' Lectures on the
English Humorists,' a work belonging to the middle of
the nineteenth century.

Against a moral and intellectual reputation of this
sort it was useless for any ordinary man to contend.
The justice of his quarrel did not enter into the matter.
The assertions and insinuations of the poet had materi-
ally affected the estimate held of the well-beloved and uni-
versally admired Addison. What chance was there for
an inferior author, no matter what his special excellence,
when pitted against him who was not merely the most

1 Essay on Epic Poetry (1782), p. 284.
31 481

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

brilliant genius of his age, but was also looked upon as
the heaven-sent champion of virtue? If a man so high
in rank and reputation as Bolingbroke could encounter
obloquy for his attack on Pope after Pope was dead, we
can understand the feelings that would be manifested
while Pope was living, towards an obscure scholar who
had criticised him unfavorably or had disparaged any-
thing he had done. That a writer whose life in the
eyes of his admirers had been consecrated to the loftiest
of objects, who was not merely the greatest intellectual
ornament of his age but had steadily borne aloft the
gonfalon of virtue against the thronging hosts of vice —
that such a man should be stigmatized for indifference
and inefficiency and neglect of duty merely, as it was
intimated, because he had committed some such trivial
offence as leaving a comma in a wrong place, provoked
resentment at the author of the charges, and not any
inquiry as to whether there was either truth or weight
in the charges themselves.

As indications of what came more and more to be a
growing sentiment, it is worth while to quote specimens
of the effusions which cropped up in abundance during
the fourth and fifth decades of the eighteenth century.
Page after page could be filled with the voluntary out-
pourings which then appeared of extremest admiration
of the poet himself, and of equally fervent detestation
of his critics. Two, however, will be sufficient to give a
conception of the estimate taken of Theobald's work by
the partisans of the man whose errors he had exposed.
The first is a copy of verses occasioned by reading Pope's
' Essay on Man ' and his ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot.'

482

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

It was the work of a certain person named Humphrey,
who among his other judgments considered Handel a
savage. Several of the poet's adversaries fell under his
lash in the following lines :

'* Let then that Paris either rhyme or fiddle,
Let Welsted lie and honest Tibbalds piddle ;
Let Budgell's frenzy start from Bee to Bee,
What are such animals as these to thee ?
What canst thou suffer from so mean a race,
Whose malice is humanity's disgrace?" 1

This is general ; the extract from the second piece is
more specific. It celebrated the courage of the poet in
confronting his critics, by whom is meant here Theobald :

"Thrice happy you who dare the critic's rage,
The tedious labors of the piddling page,
The dupe of words, the toils to nonsense free,
Sworn foe to virtue, ere they envied thee." 2

This last piece is of special interest because in it was
apparently contained the first indication of a view which
was in time to become widely received. It was based
upon an entire misconception of the parts played respec-
tively by Pope and Theobald, and the relations of the
men to each other. The notion came to prevail that the
collision between the two men arose from their both en-
tering at the same time upon the preparation of rival
editions of Shakespeare. In Capell's account of the
work previously done upon the text we find belief in
this fanciful story full-grown. His treatment of his

1 London Magazine, vol. iv. p, 35, January, 1735.

2 Gentleman's Magazine, October 1 7 •" i 5 , vol. v. p, 010.

483

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

predecessor reconciles one in a measure to the injustice
of the treatment he himself received. It was fully as
unfair as that to which he was subjected later, and was
characterized by the same invincible prejudice and igno-
rance. He represented that the deficiencies of Rowe's
edition were so distinctly seen that to repair them, two
gentlemen set out at once. These were Theobald and
Pope. The latter was the first in the field. According to
this veracious narrative the former was retarded in con-
sequence. This utterly untrue account of the origin of
the hostility between the two men added simply another
to the countless crop of falsehoods which sprang up on
every occasion when Theobald's name was mentioned.

Capell was unquestionably influenced in his judgment
by the exaggerated admiration of the dead poet which
was then prevalent and from which no one could free
himself. Nothing indeed gives one a higher conception
of the authority wielded by a man of genius in a matter
in which he is no authority at all, than the respect which
came to be paid to Pope's edition of Shakespeare after
the first reaction against it had spent its force. The
disposition soon showed itself to minimize its defects
and to accord it credit for what not the slightest credit is
due. No satisfactory defence could be set up for its
textual correctness after Theobald's exposure of its
blunders. But another view of it soon made its appear-
ance and was stoutly maintained. According to this, it
was characterized by something far better than mere
correction of verbal errors and wrong punctuation. It
was distinguished by a peculiar quality called taste. In
this it was pre-eminent. No one sought to grapple with

484

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

the problem how superior taste could be indicated by the
adoption of readings which convey a sense distinctly in-
ferior and sometimes convey no sense at all. With
questions like these, Pope's partisans did not concern
themselves. They were ready to concede that he might
at times have been blamably neglectful of petty details.
But all this was far more than counterbalanced by the
one pervading characteristic which signally distinguished
his edition. It simply abounded in taste. In this quality
Theobald, on the other hand, though superior in minute
accuracy, was grossly deficient. Such a view of him
was so far from being based upon any evidence that it
was in defiance of all the evidence procurable. It was,
however, soon embodied in that collection of notions
and fancies and prejudices and traditional beliefs which
we dub with the title of literary criticism. No epithet
has been applied to Theobald more frequently than
4 tasteless.' It came to be one of the regular stock
phrases which the professional reviewer who knew
nothing about him felt it incumbent to employ.

This estimate of the different characteristics of the
two men and of their work upon Shakespeare showed
itself soon after the publication of Theobald's edition.
Some idea of the belief that came to prevail can be
gained from an extract taken from a periodical of the
time. It is of no value in itself, but it has an interest
of its own for the indication it furnishes of the reluc-
tance whicli Was felt even at that early period to ac-
knowledge Theobald's superiority, and the disposition to
cavil on the part of those who did not venture to con-
demn. The periodical in question, which began its

485

TEE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

career in December, 1734, was entitled ' The Weekly
Oracle or Universal Library.' This contained monthly
an extra sheet given up to queries and replies. One
inquiry addressed to it was in regard to certain points
connected with Shakespeare. It ended with asking
which one of the three editions before the public was the
best to purchase. The answer, after conveying rather
more than the usual amount of misinformation in regard
to the points about which information had been sought,
concluded with this critical estimate in which the writer
remained faithful to the title of his paper by imparting
what he did not know in the following oracular style :

" Mr. Rowe does not seem to have been a critic of any distinc-
tion : Mr. Pope's taste, we are inclined to think, preferable to both
the others ; but Mr. Theobald has spared no labour, whatever he
may want in taste. However, he has embarrassed his volumes with
many useless and impertinent and bad notes ; and lias left some
passages unexplained; an instance of which we gave in the 6th
Oracle."1

So prevalent did this notion become, so persistent was
its continuance, that time, which has shattered com-
pletely so many other beliefs connected with Pope, has
left this one somewhat unimpaired. Yet any claim of
his superiority over his rival editor in regard to taste, so
far as Shakespeare was concerned, was full as baseless as
would have been any claim for him of superiority in
textual emendation. Both men were too much domi-
nated by the views prevalent in their age to do justice
in certain ways to the great dramatist. But this influ-

1 Page 144, No. 12 of the ' Weekly Oracle,' and No. 3 of the 'Questions
and Answers.'

486

THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE

ence never gained the control of the one which it did of
the other. Of that final result of exquisite taste, the
peculiar knowledge of an author's style which enables
the reader to detect the genuine from the spurious,
Theobald possessed an altogether larger proportion than
Pope. In this respect the critical attitude exhibited by
the two men is suggestive. Pope threw out, as we have
seen, the seven plays added to the third folio. But in
the expression of opinion he went much farther. Of
certain of those which he printed he conjectured that
only some characters, some single scenes and perhaps a
few particular passages constituted all that Shakespeare
contributed to their text. Three of these were specified
in the preface to his first edition ; in that to the second
he added a fourth, 4 The Comedy of Errors.' It is not
surprising to have ' Titus Andronicus ' included among
the three. It is somewhat astounding to find ' Love's
Labor's Lost' in the number. But what are we to
think of a critic's judgment and taste who did not con-
sider 4 The Winter's Tale ' as having come throughout
from the hands of Shakespeare ?

No such gross deficiency in the sense of an author's
style can be laid to Theobald's charge. On the other
hand there are incidental notes scattered throughout his
edition which show that at that early date he had antici-
pated some of the recognized results of modern scholar-
ship. It is true he did little more than indicate them;
had he not fallen on evil days and evil tongues he would
in all probability have developed them at length. He
followed Pope in limiting his edition to the thirty-six
plays found in the folio of 1628. But of one of the

487

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

seven rejected, Pericles, he reinforced the assertions of
previous critics, by declaring that certain portions of it
were unquestionably Shakespeare's.1 Furthermore he
was unwilling to concede that the poet was the sole
author of the three parts of ' King Henry VI.' They
were in his opinion the compositions of others which
had received from his hand finishing touches, because
the numbers were more mean and prosaic than in the
generality of his genuine plays.2

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 20.

2 Ibid. p. 110.

488

CHAPTER XXIII

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

The favor which Theobald's edition met at the out-
set it long continued to retain. For this there was
ample reason. The confidence which had been felt in
his ability to carry through his undertaking successfully
had been justified by the result. It is well within
bounds to say now that no such advance has been made
by any single person upon previous conditions as was
then made by him ; nor for the acceptance of this view
is it necessary to take into account the difficulties with
which he had to contend. Of even more importance
than the emendations he contributed was the course of
conduct he indicated both by example and precept as
necessary to follow in order to establish the genuine
text. The theory he adopted may be given in his own
words. "I ever labor," he wrote to Warburton, "to
make the smallest deviation that I can possibly from the
text; never to alter at all whore I can by any means
explain a passage into sense; nor ever by any emenda-
tions to make the author better when it is probable the
text came from his own hands."1 Words like these
seem now of the nature of commonplace; yet it was

1 Letter datod April 8, 1729, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 210.
489

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

many years after Theobald's death before they became
generally accepted. That he himself did not always
live up to this ideal may be pardoned to the weakness
of human nature. Still, it was an ideal he held ever in
view. The occasions in which he failed to attain it were
usually due to the deference he felt for the opinion of
his age or to imperfect knowledge or lack of knowledge
on his part of what could hardly be said to be known to
any one then.

The alterations from the text of previous editions
which Theobald made ran up to the neighborhood of a
thousand. This excludes those for which he gave the
credit to Warburton. On the other hand it includes
the restorations he introduced from the early quartos
and folios. It further includes between two and three
dozen which he had adopted at the suggestions of others
— which he was always careful to acknowledge — and
of two persons in particular. One of these was his friend
Hawley Bishop. The two men for a long time met
once a week to go over a play together and communi-
cate to each other the results of their examination and
conjectures. To Bishop we are indebted for two or
three of the very happiest improvements which the text
as originally printed has received. The other person
was Styan Thirlby, a scholar of that time much addicted
to controversy, drink, and Shakespeare study. But not
only the most but much the most valuable of the
changes and rectifications contained in Theobald's edi-
tion were entirely his own. He displayed indeed a
happiness of emendation of corrupt passages which at
times approaches almost the marvellous. In this par-

490

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

ticular he has never been surpassed ; it is perhaps juster
to say, he has never been equalled.

This sleuth-like sagacity has been more than once
exemplified in the foregoing pages in the recital which
has been given of corrections which have met the assent
of all subsequent editors. Let us illustrate it further
by another emendation to which, though generally re-
ceived, exception has occasionally been taken in these
later days. This will serve both to bring out sharply
the difficulties under which the settlement of the text of
Shakespeare sometimes labors, and also enable the reader
who cares to look up the matter to appreciate the failure
of the acutest modern students to rival the ingenuity of
Theobald in this particular field. It is the following
brief passage in ' Love's Labor \s Lost,' in which a con-
versation is going on between the curate and the school-
master. This is the way it reads in Pope's edition,
which is substantially the same as all preceding ones,
including the earliest ; save that in them for scratch
appears either scratcht, search, or search:

" Nathanael. Laus deo, bene intelligo.
Holofernes. Home boon for boon prescian ; a little scratch, 'twill
serve."

What idea, if any, Pope got out of this unintelligible
jargon he did not take the pains to communicate. He
must have paid some attention to it, for it was in his
edition that the form scratch first found place. Then
Came along the man who, we have been told for gem ra-
tions, was portentously dull. He altered the bene of
Nathanael's speech to bone, which he explained as a vo-
cative of address. This word, according to liis theory,

491

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

the schoolmaster deems to be a mistake of the curate for
the adverb, and therefore makes the following reply :

" Bone ? — bone, for bene ; Priscian a little scratch'd ; 't will serve."

Whether Shakespeare so wrote the line or not, the pas-
sage now not only affords sense, but a sense so excel-
lent that part of it has become a stock quotation ; while
everything else which has been proposed either gives no
sense at all or sense most unsatisfactory. There is no
more convincing argument for the correctness of Theo-
bald's correction than are the few attempts which have
been made to substitute other readings in its place.

But there was one person for whose assistance above
all others Theobald was fervent in acknowledgment.
This was Warburton. The fascination which this mili-
tant divine, or rather theological bully, exerted over
many of his contemporaries is one of the most inex-
plicable facts in the literary history of the eighteenth
century. Theobald was not exempt from feelings in
which men far greater than he shared. He was never
weary of extolling the merits of his " ingenious friend."
Few there were that came to Theobald's aid in editing
Shakespeare who escaped being termed ' ingenious.' No
one worked harder than he that favorite eighteenth-cen-
tuiy epithet. But to Warburton it was applied with
lavish profusion. His name could hardly be mentioned
— and it was mentioned very often — without being
coupled with that adjective. There was little limit to
the gratitude felt and expressed for the help he ren-
dered. The volumes of Theobald's first edition are
sprinkled all over with references to him, with compli-

492

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

mentary remarks about him, and further with scores —
about three-score in fact — of explanations and criti-
cal observations to which his name is appended. He
adopted into his text a great number of Warburton's
corrections, almost invariably introducing them with a
flourish of praise for their author.

Not indeed that Theobald accepted all that Warbur-
ton proposed. There was no small number — more than
half a hundred — which his very deep and genuine re-
gard for the man he delighted to call his friend could
not induce him to tolerate. But though he dissented,
he always gives the impression that he dissented with
regret. If he refused to disturb the text so as to admit
the proposed change, he usually made compensation by
giving it a place in the notes, with Warburton's own
reasons for the alteration. He professed himself unwill-
ing that the reader should be deprived of the benefit of
these happy conjectures. They were too fine, he said,
too brilliant, even if not convincing, to be passed over in
silence. It became therefore his care that they should
not be lost to the world. Theobald's letters to Warbur-
ton are full of expressions of admiration and regard for
the man, even when controverting the views he had
advanced. His explications, he was wont to tell him,
were elegant but altogether too refined. This last word
was his polite synonym for far-fetched. For many of
these proposed emendations of his friend he felt what he
said of one of them, that it was " struck out in the flame
of ail unbounded spirit."1

No proper justice can be done to Theobald for what,

1 Nichols, roll ii. p. 840.

493

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

he accomplished unless we keep steadily in mind the
fact that he was a pioneer in the business he undertook.
As a pioneer, obstacles of which we rarely think lay in
his path. The difficulties which confronted him con-
fronted, to be sure, his predecessors. But they had not
met them, they had evaded them. Though occupying
the pioneer position, they made no effort to perform the
pioneer work. Rowe can hardly be said to have recog-
nized its necessity. Pope saw one part of it dimly, and
expressed the importance of it strongly ; but he hardly
acted upon it at all. But outside of the collation of
early copies he was as ignorant as was Rowe of what it
was essential to have done. To take one instance out
of several, neither of these editors had any idea of the
simple but all-important duty of comparing the author's
language with that of the original from which he had
borrowed his incidents. Neither of them read carefully
the English chroniclers to establish the text of the his-
torical plays or the translation of Plutarch's ' Lives ' to
establish that of the Roman ones. The indebtedness
of Shakespeare to Holinshed, not merely for the facts
recorded but sometimes for the very words in which
they were recorded, Theobald was the first to recognize
distinctly and to set forth sharply. The name of that
historian had been mentioned with others both by Lang-
baine and Gildon as one of the sources. But clearly
neither of them had any conception of his special im-
portance. Pope apparently did not know of his exist-
ence; at all events it is to Hall's chronicle that he
makes the very few references which occur in his notes
on the historical plays.

494

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

The combined efforts of scholars belonging to differ-
ent periods and various nationalities have now brought
material from every quarter to illustrate the text of
Shakespeare, to elucidate the obscure and to clear up
the apparently incomprehensible. Not a single one of
the aids which now abound on every side existed when
Theobald set out to edit the works of the dramatist.
The literature of the Elizabethan age was doubtless
cheap enough at the time, when it could be found ; but
much of it now familiar was hardly known about, and
if known could not be secured. No great libraries had
been provided to which the student could resort, sure
of finding at his command all the materials requisite for
pursuing his investigations. Information in the reach
of every one now was then hardly accessible to any one.
To procure it required laborious research, unless happy
chance brought it to the attention. The difficulty
which a man of limited means must have encountered
in acquiring the most essential works might well have
deterred from the undertaking a spirit much more
adventurous than Theobald's, as well as one with a
purse much better filled. To some extent his wants
were temporarily supplied by men who appreciated his
ability to perforin the task he had set before himself.
In the preface to his edition he expressed his thanks
to the antiquary, Martin Folkes, for having furnished
him with a copy of the first folio Avhen he had not been
able to meet with it among the booksellers.1 To Coxeter
lie acknowledged his obligations lor providing him with
several of the old quarto plays which he at the time did
not have in his own collection.

1 Page Ixvii.

495

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

But resources of this sort could not always be relied
upon. In 1729 Theobald wrote to Warburton that he
might probably get help for the explanation of certain
passages from Ascham's 4 Toxophilus.' 1 More than four
years later when his edition of Shakespeare appeared, it
was evident that he had not been able to secure any-
where a work which can now be met with everywhere.2
He had heard also of Lodge's romance of ' Rosalynde.'
This he supposed to be made up of a volume of poems
in praise of his mistress called Rosalind. He fancied
that could he get hold of the book, he might find in
it the original of the canzonets in ' As you Like It ' and
perhaps in * Love's Labor's Lost.'3 But he never got
a sight of the work. Hence he remained in ignorance
of its real character, and also of the fact that the former
play had been founded upon this prose romance.

Furthermore, to comprehend the difficulties which
then beset a pioneer, it must not be overlooked that in
consequence of the revolution of English speech about
its literature, Shakespeare is much nearer to us than
he was to the men of the first half of the eighteenth
century. During the period following the Restoration
the language of the dramatist was often spoken of as
obsolete. To some extent it Avas then obsolete. Dryden
more than once characterized it as unintelligible in
places. For obvious reasons this condition of things has
now disappeared almost wholly. A great writer, long
and generally loved and admired and studied, imposes in

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 299.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i, p. 410.

3 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 578.

496

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

time his own vocabulary upon his readers. One result
of the steadily increasing popularity of Shakespeare dur-
ing the last two centuries has been to make many of his
most peculiar methods of expression familiar. Words
and phrases which are now found on every one's lips
often conveyed no meaning to Theobald's contempo-
raries. They sounded strange and outlandish. Some
familiar now to all highly educated men were incompre-
hensible then to the best scholars.

One has only to look at some of the wild guesses haz-
arded by Pope, or the words substituted by him for those
of the original, to comprehend the difficulty of deter-
mining the meaning which an editor of that time was
sure to encounter. Dictionaries of all sorts were imper-
fect. No general ones existed which contained even
remotely the words or the meanings of the words found
in the dramas. A concordance to Shakespeare's works
now at every one's elbow was never even dreamed of
then. So far from there being a special lexicon of his
words, there was hardly even the pettiest of glossaries.
The nearest approach to anything of the kind was a
so-called one which appeared in the volume of Shake-
speare's poems published in 1710 as a supplementary
volume to Howe's edition of the year previous. It was
one of the scrappiest as well as the slightest of affairs.
It was made up of words gathered without judgment
and sometimes explained without knowledge. The
whole number was much less than two hundred. The
collection was in some particulars a linguistic curiosity.
In this meager list were set words such as carol, dulcet,
</u»t/>s, foemen, gleeful, moody, trick •*//, and several

aa 497 '

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

others which even in that day did not need definition for
any one capable of reading Shakespeare. Many of the
others were explained wrongly. There were some which
appear to be the compiler's personal contribution to
the vocabulary of archaic English speech.

Furthermore, in order to appreciate the difficulties
which Theobald was called upon to meet, in the mere
establishment of the text, we must bear in mind how lit-
tle was then really known of its sources. All the prin-
cipal authorities are now accessible to the humblest
student, if not in their original form, in reproductions
which for the purposes of investigation are full as satis-
factory. But, like the literature of the same period, they
were then so far from being at the command of every-
body they were sometimes not even known to anybody.
Nor, when known, had their value been subjected to any
severe scrutiny and exactly determined. There were a
number of questions of importance which presented
themselves to any investigator. What was the relation
between the quartos and the folios ? Could those of the
former class, which were printed before Shakespeare's
death, be regarded in any instance as having had his
sanction ? In the case of any given play, which one of
the early editions could be deemed the best authority
for the text ? What was the comparative value of the
several folios ? None of these questions had there been
any attempt to answer. About some of them wrong
beliefs were pretty surely entertained by many if not by
most. When Theobald published his ' Shakespeare
Restored ' he not only had no copy of the first folio,
but he accepted the general opinion of his time that

498

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

the second one was the more valuable. He specifically
spoke of it as being on the whole esteemed " as the
best impression of Shakespeare." 1 He had not then
seen the first folio. When he did, it was to him clearly
a revelation. From it he restored numerous readings
which in all the later editions had become depraved.
Yet it is perhaps doubtful if even he, while recognizing
its great importance, recognized its supreme importance.
Certainly he left several of its readings to be gleaned
and inserted into the received text by later editors.

Furthermore, the modern student of Shakespeare
enters into the possession of a vast inheritance of knowl-
edge which has been accumulated by the labor and
research of scholars for two centuries and a half. The
hundreds of years of discussion carried on, not only in
our own but in other tongues, have left for considera-
tion few difficulties which have not been looked at from
every point of view. Learning of all sorts has been
brought to bear upon the clearing up of every obscure
allusion. Scarcely a work in ancient or modern lit-
erature capable of throwing light upon the text has been
overlooked. Popular beliefs, once widely held but long
buried in forge tf illness, have been exhumed to explain
passages not otherwise comprehensible. The customs of
different periods have been studied to justify the ancient
reading:. The mere revolution of fashion has of itself
made things now plain that were once full of mystery.
Take as an illustration the practice of having shoes
made to fit specifically each one of the two feet. It was
known in Shakespeare's time ; it is known in our time ;

1 Shakespeare Restored, p. 70.

499

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

it was not known in the eighteenth century. In conse-
quence, Theobald was perplexed by the following pas-
sage in King John :

" Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet." 1

" I could easily account for this in a Greek author," he
wrote to Warburton, " but do not know of anything of
a modern fashion with us of having shoes or slippers
particular for one foot and not the other." 2 But
though the statement disturbed his mind, his evident
suspicion that ancient slippers might be different from
modern ones kept him from disturbing the text. He
accordingly left the passage without change or com-
ment. Not so Dr. Johnson. He chose to impute his
own ignorance to his author's carelessness. " Shake-
speare," he sagely wrote, "seems to have confounded
the man's shoes with his gloves. He that is frighted
or hurried may put his hand into the wrong glove, but
either shoe will admit either foot. The author seems to
be disturbed by the disorder he describes." 3 This note
continued unchallenged in the Johnson and Steevens'
edition of 1773. It was not till the edition of 1778 that
it dawned upon the minds of these two scholars, through
the agency of Farmer, that the ancient practice might
be different from the modern.

Compare now the position of the modern editor,
guarded on every side from error, with that of Theobald.
Here was a man who for the most he accomplished had

1 Act iv., scene 2.

2 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 392.

3 Johnson's Shakespeare, rol. iii. p. 475.

500

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

to rely upon his own reading and study. From the un-
satisfactory works of reference then existing he could
derive hardly any help in explaining allusions to things
and persons, or in deciphering the meaning of obsolete
words, or in saving himself from the greater peril which
waits upon lack of acquaintance with the obsolete mean-
ing of words in common use. That he sometimes failed
was inevitable. In the obloquy which Pope succeeded
in fastening upon his name and memory, men were found
eager to pounce upon his most trivial mistakes while
passing over in silence the grossest blunders of his pre-
decessor. Theobald, for illustration, was ignorant of
the fact that depart once had as one of its significations
the sense of • part,' ' separate.' Accordingly in 4 Timon
of Athens ' he changed the word into ' do part.' " Com-
mon sense," he said, "favors my emendation." The
possession of that specific information arising from the
general advance of knowledge, which so many confound
with the possession of special acumen on their own part,
gave here an opportunity for a sneer which Steevens
did not fail to improve. " Common sense," he remarked,
"may favor it, but an acquaintance with the language
of Shakespeare's time would not have been quite so pro-
pitious." So it would have been equally unpropitious
to several of the definitions which Steevens himself, with
far greater opportunities, was later to make.

And yet, with the lack of all the aids which abound
for the modern scholar, Theobald's great learning and
extensive reading in all sorts of subjects enabled him to
clear up more obscure allusions of importance than it
has fallen to the lot of any single scholar to succeed in

501

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

doing. This Avas partly owing to the fact that he was
the first in the field. But he would not have been in
the field at all, had he not at that early day been in the
possession of an amount of learning which has never re-
ceived its full recognition. It extended to all depart-
ments which could illustrate the text : history ancient
and modern, natural history, fiction, poetry, classic litera-
ture, the little known literature of the Elizabethan age,
the less known literature of the age preceding. Let us
consider some of the more conspicuous of the obscure
passages whose meaning he was the first to reveal. As a
starting-point take the light he was enabled to throw
upon certain difficult places in consequence of his inti-
mate acquaintance with the inferior drama of the Eliza-
bethan period, which apparently no one but he had then
read.

In ' The Taming of the Shrew ' he succeeded in un-
canonizing a saint who had had possession of the text in
all complete editions from the first folio inclusive. In
the Induction to the play Sly had been represented as
saying to the hostess,

" Go by S. Jeronimie; go to thy cold bed and warm thee."

Theobald pointed out that this was but one of numer-
ous references found in the plays of that time to an
expression found in i The Spanish Tragedy,' the second
part of 4 Jeronimo.' On account of the popularity of
the piece and perhaps in consequence of some peculiarity
in the acting, the phrase 4 go by' had come to be one
of the stock quotations of the dramatists of that day-
Theobald therefore conformed to the quarto of 1631 by

502

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

omitting the saintship.1 Again, in * King John ' he
cleared up the difficulty that perplexed the passage in
which Falconbridge retorts to his mother, who had called
him " most untoward knave," with the words,

" Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like." 2

This line, obscure in itself, had been made obscurer in
nearly all the editions preceding by being connected
directly with the line following. The meaning Theo-
bald rendered perfectly plain by citing the passage in
the old play of l Soliman and Perseda ' in which one of
the characters, Basilisco, insists on being called knight
instead of knave. Further he pointed out that the
" hollow pampered jades of Asia " in Pistol's speech 3
was a parody on a passage in the second part of * Tam-
burlaine.' In that play the conqueror is represented as
being drawn in his chariot by two kings with bits in
their mouths, while in his left hand he holds the reins
and with his right scourges the monarchs with his whip.
Such a scene must in its actual representation always
have produced a sensation. Whatever was the impres-
sion it made upon the ruder part of the audience, it ex-
cited powerfully the risibles of contemporary dramatists,
who were never tired of lugging in allusions to it.

Take again the earlier literature preceding the Eliza-
bethan. Theobald was seemingly the only scholar of
the time who was acquainted with the mediaeval story
of Troy. This knowledge enabled him to explain as
well as rectify numerous passages, especially those in

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 271.

2 Act i., scene I.

8 King Henry IV., Act ii., 10006 I.

503

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

i Troilus and Cressida.' The reward he received from
certain of his contemporaries was ridicule of the " low
industry" which had made the text intelligible. He
pointed out further that the clown's statement in
4 Twelfth Night ■ that " Cressida was a beggar " was
borrowed from 'The Testament of Criseide.'1 This
had been long included in the editions of Chaucer's
works, though now known to have been the composi-
tion of the Scotch poet, Henry son. Ignorant he was of
Lodge's ' Rosalynde ' ; but he recognized and announced
the resemblance between certain of the characters and
incidents in ' As You Like It ' and the tale of ' Game-
lyn.' 2 This latter had appeared but a short time before,
in Urry's edition of Chaucer. He found that the song
sung by the grave-digger in ' Hamlet ' was taken from
'Totters Miscellany' published in 1557. Naturally,
though wrongly, he ascribed it to the Earl of Surrey,3
because he appeared on the title-page of that collection
as the main author. Coming to later works, the credit
of discovering that the names of the devils mentioned
in ' Lear ' were taken from Dr. Harsnett's ' Declaration
of Popish Impostures' must be awarded to Theobald,
though it is to Warburton seemingly that he owed the
opportunity to examine the treatise.4 Furthermore, the
remark of the clown in ' As You Like It ' — " we quarrel
in print by the book " — led him to point out that the
gallants of Queen Elizabeth's time studied the art of
fencing and the grounds of quarrelling from three works
which he mentions, one of which was Vincentio Sa viola's

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 498. 2 Ibid. p. 187.

3 Ibid. vol. vii. p. 346. 4 Nichols, vol. ii. pages 209, 230, 490.

504

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

4 Practice of the Rapier and Dagger.' 1 Warburton was
later to exploit after his fashion the knowledge gained
from this treatise, and along with it to assume by impli-
cation the credit of having been the first to reveal its
existence.

Let us turn to other fields. Theobald's acquaintance
with historical authorities not generally known enabled
him to show that the remote original of the story of
4 Hamlet ' was to be found in the Historia Danica of
Saxo Grammaticus.2 So again a similar familiarity with
the European situation during the reign of Elizabeth
put him on the track of rectifying a reading in 'The
Comedy of Errors ' and explaining an allusion. In that
play Dromio of Syracuse professes himself able to find
countries in his unknown brother's wife whom he de-
scribes as being u spherical like a globe." In reply to
an inquiry he had been generally represented as saying
that France was " in her forehead ; armed and reverted,
making war against her hair." So the final word had
appeared in all editions after the first. Theobald recog-
nized at once the allusion, and the further fact that
there had been a designed quibble. The extreme Cath-
olic party in France was waging war against Henry of
Navarre, the legitimate successor to the throne. So he
properly threw out hair and substituted the heir of the
first folio.3 Finally, the allusion in 'Twelfth Night' to
the Egyptian thief who kills the one he loves was shown
by him to have been taken from the &thiopica of the
Greek romance-writer, Heliodorus.4

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 264. - [bid. vol. vii. p. 22f>.

3 J hid. vol. iii. p. 32. 4 Unci. vol. ii. p. 598.

505

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

These are some — by no means all — of the contri-
butions to the comprehension of Shakespeare's writings
made by a single man at the very dawn of Shakespeare
study. The range of reading involved in these several
discoveries speaks for itself. To us the facts disclosed
partake no longer of the nature of discoveries; they
have become property as common as the air. They are
assumed to be known by every special student of Shake-
speare. But in Theobald's time they were not known
to anybody. Our present familiarity with them has led
us in consequence to forget the person and the agency
that was the first to bring them to light. Not that it is
meant to imply that Theobald did not leave plenty of
problems for later editors to solve. There were numer-
ous gaps in his knowledge, great as that knowledge
assuredly was. He may have been unaware, at the out-
set, of the very existence of Marlowe, though he was
certainly familiar with some of his works. He followed
the volume of 1640 in giving to Shakespeare the
credit of the authorship of the famous poem entitled
' The Passionate Shepherd to his Love.' 1 At least this
was true at the time his first edition appeared; it is
noticeable that the note to that effect was dropped from
his second edition. Hence he failed to understand the
allusion in ' As You Like It ' to the " dead shepherd,"
and the saw with which he is there credited.2 But if
he was ignorant of this latter, so were his successors,
including Steevens and Malone, until Capell furnished
them the means of enlightenment.

A similar story can be told of * The Taming of the

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 261. 2 Act ii., scene 7.

506

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

Shrew.' Theobald was familiar with everything that
Chaucer wrote. It was something that could be said
of very few men at that day ; indeed it cannot be said
of too many at the present day. He was equally famil-
iar with the mass of matter gathered from every quarter
which then went under the name of that author. He
was also acquainted with portions of Lydgate. But
of Gower he pretty certainly knew little and perhaps
nothing. In consequence he was utterly at a loss when
he came to the line, in * The Taming of the Shrew,' —

11 Be she as foul as was Florentius' love," 1 —

of the passage in which Petruchio expresses his willing-
ness to marry any one provided that she had sufficient
dowry. " I confess," he wrote to Warburton, " this is
a piece of secret history that I am wholly unacquainted
with." 2 He got no help from that quarter. Accord-
ingly in his edition he let it pass without remark. What
was rare with him, he did not even confess his own ig-
norance. Warburton later failed to imitate his reticence ;
but as usual made up for lack of knowledge by excess
of conjecture. " This I suppose," he remarked, " relates
to a circumstance in some Italian novel, and should be
read Florentio's." 3

Another incident discloses in a striking manner the
character and the characteristics of the two men.
Theobald wrote to his friend about u Bargulus, the
strong Illyrian pirate," mentioned in the second part
of ' Henry VI.'4 The old quarto, he further said, has

1 Act i., scene 2. 2 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 334.

8 Warbnrton's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 410. i Act iv., scene 1.

507

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

" mighty Abradas, the great Macedonian pirate." 1 Who
these personages were he did not know, nor could he
learn. " Neither of these wights," he remarked in his
edition, "have I been able to trace, or discover from
what legend our author derived his acquaintance with
them."2 Warburton, at the time Theobald applied to
him, was in the same state of ignorance. But during
the fifteen years that went by before he brought out
his own edition he had lighted upon the fact that
Bargulus had been casually mentioned in Cicero's trea-
tise De Officiis. Accordingly he proceeded to misquote
Theobald's note, to sneer at his use of the word ' legend,'
and to express himself as somewhat shocked by his pred-
ecessor's lack of familiarity with Bargulus. " And yet
he is to be met with in Tully's Offices," he said conde-
scendingly.3 For a reason sufficiently obvious, however,
he was careful to refrain from saying anything whatever
about Abradas. So for the sake of concealing his want
of knowledge he garbled the quotation he took from
the man to whom he had been vaunting his superiority.
" Neither of these wights " had been Theobald's words ;
they were carefully changed into " this wight." No one
who makes a study of Shakespearean controversy during
the eighteenth century can fail to see how apt a student
Warburton became in the practice of misrepresentation
and calumny which distinguished the school of Pope.
His habit of self-glorification, however, even at the
expense of truth, he did not have to acquire.

But it was something more than mere erudition that

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 440. 2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 266.
8 Warburtou's Shakespeare, vol. v. p. 23.

508

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

Theobald possessed. Examples of the acumen he showed
in felicitous emendation, now accepted of all, have been
furnished in abundance; and the supply has been far
from being exhausted. But equally was his sanity of
judgment exhibited in the adoption of readings to which,
though he was not the first to originate, he was the first
to give authority and currency. It was Theobald who
changed for us all cannon into canon in the passage in
which, as it now reads, Hamlet grieves that the Al-
mighty had fixed his canon against self-slaughter.1 The
early quartos and the folios, the editions of Rowe and
Pope had coincided in using the form cannon. This was
then an occasional variant spelling of canon. But with
the disappearance of the knowledge of this fact, what
was easily understood in the early part of the seven-
teenth century had been forgotten in the early part of
the eighteenth. The form cannon had then become re-
stricted to designating a piece of ordnance. To it natu-
rally the interpretation was accommodated. No one now
ventures to follow the original reading. Yet it is a sin-
gular fact that there are men in modern times who have
been disposed to view the alteration with suspicion, in
spite of the fact that Theobald fortified it by the parallel
passage in « Cymbeline ' 2 which speaks of the divine pro-
hibition against self-slaughter.3 Tie mentioned further
that his reading had been adopted by " the accurate Mr.
Hughes" in his edition, — an edition which generations
of bibliographers have; sought for long and have not as
yet found.

1 Act i., scono 2. '" Act iii., 806116 4.

8 Theobald'i Shakespeare, vol. iii. i>. 23f>.

609

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

It was this same sanity of judgment which kept
Theobald from being led astray in numerous instances
— though he was in far too many — by the regard and
admiration he entertained for Warburton. It frequently
enabled him to maintain the integrity of the original text
against the vagaries of his then professed friend. Theo-
bald himself was too much under the influence of the
desire to make the words of his author conform to fact.
But he had penetration enough to perceive that Shake-
speare's object was to picture the truth of life, and that
for the sake of so doing he was indifferent to truths
which appeal only to the lower understanding. Hence
he resisted the efforts of specious accuracy which refused
allegiance to the authority of the poet's sources in order
to make his statements conform to the results of either
general knowledge or specific investigation. 4 The Win-
ter's Tale,' in particular, belongs to an intellectual region
with which the laws of time and place and the sequence
of historical events have nothing whatever to do. Yet
agonizing efforts began to be put forth early to make
the incidents of that drama conform to the knowledge
with which we are all presumably familiar.

The play was early well known to have been founded
upon the tale of ' Dorastus and Faunia.' A statement to
that effect was made by Langbaine, Rowe, and Gildon.
The last-named had apparently never seen " the old
story-book," as he called it. He justly inferred, how-
ever, that from it had been copied the conversion of
Bohemia into a maritime country. Its author, Greene,
surpassed indeed all his contemporaries in the utter in-
difference he manifested to known fact or accredited

510

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

legend. In one of his tales he represented Saragossa
as the chief city of Sicilia ; and a little later in the same
piece he spoke of Admetus dying for her husband Alcest.
hi disregard of historic truth or received fable the stu-
dent of the Stratford High School could not enter into
competition with the Master of Arts of Cambridge Uni-
versity. It brought no qualms to such a man as Greene
to put Delphos upon an island, as he did in the story
upon which 4 The Winter's Tale ' was founded. Theo-
bald, who was familiar with the original, naturally con-
formed to it because Shakespeare had done so before
him. Warburton was anxious to substitute " fertile the
soil " for " fertile the isle," as it appears in the play.
His friend, however, refused to make the required
subservience to geographical accuracy, though he was
obliging enough to term the proposed change "a very
reasonable conjecture." 1

Furthermore, the astuteness which Theobald mani-
fested in the explanation of obscure passages places him
in that particular on an intellectual level much higher
than Pope's. In the treatment of difficulties which con-
cern not so much the text as the idea, the position of the
two men was often completely reversed. The one was a
commentator, the other a poet ; but the conception of the
meaning by the latter was frequently as prosaic as the
similar conception by the former was poetical. So much
acuteness did Theobald at times display in arriving at
the sense of doubtful utterances that it must always be
a matter of regret that he generally limited his expla-
nations of meaning to the places which he had either

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 98.

511

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

amended himself or to those in which he controverted
the explanations of others. The penetration he showed
in these instances makes clear how great an advance
would have been early given to the comprehension of
Shakespeare, had he been encouraged to set forth the
signification of all passages which present difficulty.
One example, chosen out of many, will be sufficient to
indicate the superiority of Theobald to Pope in the per-
ception of meaning and to illustrate the injustice still
prevalent, which gives to others the credit to which he
is entitled. It is taken from the second part of ' King
Henry IV.,' 2 in which the new monarch is represented as
saying to his brothers,

" My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections."

The passage is not obviously clear. The word wild
presents peculiar difficulty. Pope got over or fancied
he got over it by substituting for it wailed. Theobald
himself stumbled at the line when it first engaged his
attention.2 Pope's alteration was tame, to be sure ; but
if it did not furnish poetry, it looked as if it might fur-
nish sense. He was impressed, however, by a marginal
note of Thirlby's on the passage which he had seen.
That controversialist remarked in his usual vigorous
way that the reading wailed was a ridiculous one ; that
it was not only nonsense in itself, but the cause of non-
sense in the following verses. This view made Theobald
pause. By the time his edition appeared he had come
to understand the exact meaning. He saw in conse-

1 Act v., scene 2. 2 Nichols, ii. 420.

512

DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY

quence that the alteration effected by Pope not only
made the line commonplace, but that it was as little sup-
ported by reason as it was by authority. Then he gave
his own view of its signification which he reinforced by
passages which established the certainty of it beyond
question. "My father," says the new king, "is gone
wild into his grave, for now all my wild affections lie
entombed with him." l So Theobald explained it ; so did
Malone more than half a century later ; so all the world
now explains it ; but modern editions give usually the
credit of the explanation to the later editor who con-
stantly depreciated the earlier editor he plundered.

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 530.

513

CHAPTER XXIV

No one can rise from a thorough study of the work
which Theobald accomplished without coming to enter-
tain a high opinion of the sanity of his views, of the ex-
tent of his acquirements, of the acumen he displayed in
ascertaining the meaning of doubtful passages, above all
of the skill he showed in the emendation of phrases and
sentences to all appearance hopelessly corrupt. It has
been necessary to lay special stress upon his abilities
and achievements on account of the persistent detraction
which for a centnry and a half has waited upon what he
was and what he did. But there is no intention of seek-
ing to convey the impression that he was a perfect editor
any more than that he was a perfect man. To be free from
falling into a certain class of errors was impossible for
any one living at the time he did. But there were errors
he committed, due not to the age in which he flourished,
but exclusively to himself. Nor, furthermore, was his
conduct always discreet ; and in some cases it was dis-
tinctly unfair. No impartial account can be given of the
controversy in which he was concerned that does not
take note of the particulars wherein he failed as well as
of those wherein he succeeded.

At the outset it is worth while to designate one pecu-
514

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

liarity of his edition which is annoying to the reader
rather than prejudicial to the actual value of the work.
Pope had followed in general the practice of reckoning
it a new scene whenever a new character came on the
stage, though the place continued unchanged. As an
illustration the first scene in ' The Merry Wives of
Windsor,' as found in the folios, in Rowe, and in modern
editions, appears in his as divided into five. Theobald
did not imitate him in this particular. His scenes corre-
sponded with the actual change of place or of situation.
But for some unexplained and unexplainable reason he
did not number them. This method of proceeding does
not affect either the excellence or the integrity of the
text. Upon him seeking to consult it, however, it puts
an unnecessarily irritating burden. With as much reason
he might have refrained from numbering the pages of his
volumes.

Another peculiarity of Theobald's edition there was to
which exception can be justly taken. Tins was the ten-
dency he occasionally exhibited to display his erudition.
By this is not meant his habit of pointing out parallel
passages in Greek and Roman authors conveying the
same idea as that expressed in the text. With compari-
sons of this sort his edition was liberally sprinkled.
There was always in Theobald's mind that lurking
desire which besets the hearts of the scholarly to prove
Shakespeare's intimate familiarity with the classic writers.
With these he was himself exceptionally familiar. Any
passage in any of them which contained a thought not
essentially different from that found in liis own author
was fairly sure to find a place in Ins notes. He did not

515

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

usually — though he did sometimes — venture to draw
any positive inferences from these parallelisms as to the
extent of Shakespeare's reading. For that he was too
wary. Even if in his heart he believed that the senti-
ment had been borrowed, he did not so state it ; he left
it to suggest itself. No fault can be reasonably found
with his course in calling attention to these resemblances ;
there are many by whom it will be distinctly approved.
What was objectionable was the occasional dragging in
of learned linguistic disquisitions utterly foreign to the
matter in hand.

The most glaring, though far from the only illustra-
tion of this particular defect can be found in a note,
otherwise of special merit, to the first scene of 'The
Merry Wives of Windsor.' Theobald was the one who
gave us the word latten in the demand for a duel made
by Pistol. " I combat challenge of this Latin (e)
Bilbo," he had been represented as saying in the editions
from the first folio inclusive. Theobald's substitution of
latten for Latin had the effect of transferring the challenge
from the pedantic schoolmaster, Sir Hugh Evans, to the
lank and meager Slender. The emendation, though es-
caping the previous editors, had only to be given to meet
with universal acceptance. It is, in fact, one of Theobald's
corrections seemingly so inevitable after they have once
been made that men soon lose sight of the fact that there
ever could have been any other reading or interpretation.
Warburton in his edition pretended to take the altera-
tion from the earliest quarto copies of the play, where
the word appears as laten ; but the source from which
he actually took it is indicated by his adopting the error*-

516

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

eous statement of the man whose name he forgot to
mention, that in these the word was spelled fatten,
Theobald was not content with explaining the term as
designating a thin piece of metal and thereby establish-
ing the justice of his interpretation. He proceeded
to lug in a long, technical and utterly inappropriate
disquisition for the sake of correcting a passage in
Hesychius in which * orichalc ' had been mentioned.1

Moreover, while errors of fact are infrequent, they
nevertheless occur. They are usually, perhaps invari-
ably, due to inadvertence or oversight. For this over-
sight the only excuse which can be pleaded is the almost
inevitable tendency to blunder which at times besets the
most careful of us all when dealing with a multiplicity
of details. Theobald informs us, for instance, that the
Mencechmi of Plautus appeared in an English transla-
tion as early as 1515.2 This might have been regarded as
a typographical error, had he not cut off that explanation
by making the further assertion that it was published
half a century before Shakespeare was born. The
blunder is the more inexcusable because Langbaine, to
whom he referred, had given the true date of 1595.3
Nor was Theobald entirely free from the besetting sin of
his admired friend Warburton, of making up for barren-
ness of knowledge by fertility of conjecture. Sometimes
too it was very poor conjecture. Take the passage in
4 Othello ' 4 in which Iago comments upon Roderigo in the
following manner:

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 228.
'2 [bid. vol. iii. p. 4.

3 Langbaine's ' English Dramatic Poets, ed.Of LWI, p. 45ft.

4 Act v., scene 1.

517

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

" I have rubbed this young quat almost to the sense,
And he grows angry."

Quat is a word belonging to the dialect of Warwick-
shire and its adjacent counties. It still retains there the
signification it has here, of ' pimple,' ' small boil ' or
' blister.' It is a word which Shakespeare must often
have heard in his youth. He naturally put it in the
mouth of one of his characters. Though used to some
extent by other writers of the time, it could hardly have
been known to most of his London contemporaries.
It puzzled thoroughly the early editors and was first
explained properly in a magazine contribution belonging
to 1748. Rowe retained it, but made no attempt to de-
fine it. Pope adopted gnat, which is the reading of the
Othello quarto of 1622. Theobald confessed his abso-
lute ignorance of the word as found in the first folio,
while he rejected the absurd one his predecessor had
introduced in its place into the text. But instead of
sticking to the only really authorized form and confessing
his ignorance of its meaning, he substituted for it a word
of his own which differed only from that of Pope's edi-
tion in being a little less absurd. For quat he read knot,
the name of a small bird. Other commentators were
likewise inclined to refer it to the animal creation.
Hanmer read quab, which he said meant a ' gudgeon.'
Upton preferred quail. The right reading was restored
to the text by Johnson, with the correct explanation.1

1 The explanation of the meaning of the word first appeared in a com-
munication to the ' British Magazine/ p. 425 of the volume for 1748. It was
signed Shakespearian us, and dated Leicester, August, 1748. " Quat," said
the writer, " is ^provincial word, vulgarly used, and well understood, in the
parts of Warwickshire near Stratford upon Avon (Shakespear's birth-

518

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

In determining the meaning it was not often that
Theobald's sagacity was at fault. In this respect it was
as a rule exceptionally acute. Yet there are occasions
in which he balked at the sense of passages which pre-
sent no particular difficulty. In 'Antony and Cleopa-
tra,' * for example, Enobarbus is represented as beginning
to hesitate about maintaining loyalty to a chief who
recklessly flings away all chances of success, and is con-
sequently sure to involve his followers in his own ruin.
The reflections passing through his mind open with these
words :

u Mine honesty and I begin to square ;
The loyalty, well held to fools, does make
Our faith mere folly."

Theobald thought both the text and the pointing de-
praved. To remedy this condition of things he changed
The into Tho\ and by placing a comma after held gave
the idea that loyalty seems mere folly to fools.2 But a
far more inexplicable slip was his misconception of the
words of Horatio to the English ambassadors at the con-
clusion of Hamlet. He supposed the pronoun he of the
line —

" He never gave commandment for their death" —

to refer to the dead prince, and not to the dead king.
It required the purest perversity of misapprehension to

place) signifying a pimple, or hollo, which being apt to itch much, conse-
quently provokes a good deal of scratching, or rubbing, and being rubb'd,
grows hot, painful, and red, which is called in the same country dialect
angry." It is from this communication that Johnson prohably got his
definition.

1 Act. iii., scene 13.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. vi. p. 284.

519

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

so attribute it. What was even worse, lie was disposed
to make his own misunderstanding the fault of the poet.
He suggested as a possible explanation that Shakespeare
may have forgot himself " with regard to the circum-
stance of Rosincrantz and Guildenstern's death."1

There were, further, times when Theobald took un-
justifiable liberties with the text. In some instances
this was due to ignorance. Thus in ' The Merchant
of Venice ' he made the unnecessary change into thill-
horse of fill-horse — in the original authority philhorse.
But while, like Pope, he substituted words and forms
of his own for those contained in the early editions,
unlike Pope, it was very seldom the case that he did
so without notification to the reader. His substitutions
were not many when he acted on his own independent
judgment ; but even then they were too many. In the
two instances, for example, in which stithy appears in
Shakespeare, once as a noun and once as a verb, he in-
dulged his private fancy in changing it both times to
smithy. But there was a much more unjustifiable alter-
ation. Polonius, who with his various other qualities
was something of a verbal critic, objected to Hamlet's
addressing his daughter as " the beautified Ophelia."
In so doing he was clearly giving utterance to some con-
temporary censure. Whether his dislike to the epithet
applied to her was due to his dislike of the method
by which the word had been formed, or to his dislike
of the meaning given to it, most readers of the present
day will agree with him that beautified, so used, is " an
ill phrase, a vile phrase." But vile as it is, few will be

1 Theobald's Shakesponre, vol. vii. p. 366.

520

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

found who would not prefer it to beatified, which Theo-
bald, against the authority of all the early copies, put
in its place.

Furthermore, Theobald occasionally went to the length
of adding words or substituting some other allied word,
for the sake of curing, as he said, the lameness of the
verse or of making the line flowing and perfect. Thus
in ' Much Ado about Nothing ' 1 he substituted approof
for proof in the line,

11 Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof." i

Still, Theobald's offences against the authority of the
original sources are comparatively few when he exer-
cised his own unfettered judgment. It is from the
deference he paid to the judgment of others that his
edition received its greatest blemishes. This was par-
ticularly true of the influence exerted over it by two
men, one his violent enemy and the other his professed
friend. The most serious injury that befell his text was
due to Warburton's fellowship in the undertaking, so
far as that fellowship went. Undoubtedly Theobald re-
ceived help, in a few instances important help, from his
ally's extensive reading and out-of-the-way though inac-
curate learning. But in general the harm was out of
all proportion to the benefit. His text was liable at any
dine to suffer from the submission of his own judgment
to the vagaries of a man who was little content to be
satisfied with the obvious sense of a passage, but con-
stantly preferred to read into Shakespeare meanings
which Sluikcspeare had never dreamed of and would
not have been Shakespeare if he had.

1 Act, iv., scene l.
521

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

There is no question indeed that Theobald's connection
with Warburton was one of the gravest of the many mis-
fortunes which befell his life. It will affect his reputa-
tion permanently. This is not because of the latter's
appropriating to himself the credit of emendations made
by the former. Shakespearean investigation will in pro-
cess of time restore to their rightful owner all of these,
as it has even now restored the majority. Nor is it be-
cause of the detraction which Warburton heaped upon
his old correspondent after death had made it impossible
to defend himself. Doubtless Theobald's reputation has
suffered to some extent from both these causes. Still, it
could have survived the calumnies and misrepresenta-
tions of his sometime friend; what it can never do is to
free itself entirely from the harm wrought by his help.
Theobald adopted into his text a large number — about
a dozen over one hundred of Warburton's emendations.
A very few are excellent ; the large majority are worse
than worthless. They have damaged irretrievably his
text, so far as they go. Furthermore he allowed his ally
to cumber the pages of the edition with annotations and
reflections which in many cases are distinctly impertinent
in both the etymological and the common sense of that
word. Even when they are not bad in themselves, they
are usually felt to be obtrusive. But some of them are
so far-fetched and absurd that they find no more than
scanty recognition in the most hospitable of variorums
which make it their aim to preserve the folly as well as
the wisdom of commentators. These excrescences which
deformed his work wrought both him and it a double in-
jury. In time there came to be a complete reversal of

522

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDFTION

the actual situation. What was good in Theobald's edi-
tion, due to his own labors, was passed over to the credit
of Warburton. What was bad in it, often a conse-
quence of the contributions Warburton made to it, was
ascribed to Theobald. This absolutely senseless esti-
mate of the value of the respective shares of the two
men in the undertaking is found flourishing in fullest
vigor during the latter half of the eighteenth century.
Dr. Johnson said many wise and many foolish things
about Shakespeare and his commentators. But never
did he make a remark more preposterously absurd than
the one contained in his life of Pope that the best notes
in Theobald's edition were supplied by Warburton.

This is what friendship did for him. Enmity, on the
other hand, did not bring any corresponding benefit. His
text has suffered not so much from the hostility he felt
towards his great detractor as from the respect he paid
to his readings. In his own age indeed this did not
affect his reputation, but it lias distinctly impaired it
during later periods. If Theobald exposed unrelent-
ingly Pope's sophistication of the text where the sense
was concerned, he kept silence about his more numerous
sophistications of the meter. Such a course was at that
time politic. So general was the deference then paid to
the poet as the greatest master of harmonious versification
that England had ever known, that any criticism of his
action in this particular would have reacted unfavorably
upon the critic. Rut it is manifest that it was from no
motives of policy that Theobald refrained from making
much adverse comment upon (lie emendations of this
sort effected by Ins great contemporary. He himself

523

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

sincerely shared in the belief of his age in the latter's
unassailable supremacy as a master of verse, and in the
propriety of applying his superior skill to the rectifica-
tion of Shakespeare's text. He therefore not only ap-
proved of the alterations made, he adopted them. He
did not indeed accept all his predecessor's metrical read-
ings. His far wider knowledge enabled him to show in
several instances that Pope had made changes in Shake-
speare's versification because he was unfamiliar with the
pronunciation of Shakespeare's period. Theobald pointed
out, for instance, that hour and soul and fire, which we
regard as monosyllables, were in the Elizabethan age
often treated as dissyllables. So again he pointed out
that words now of three syllables were, or at least could
be, sounded then as if consisting of four. At times he
took extremer ground. He protested against what he
called "this modern unreasonable chasteness of metre,"
which had led Rowe and Pope to omit words in order
that the line might run more smoothly. This, he as-
serted, was advancing a false nicety of ear not only
against the license of Shakespeare's numbers, but against
the license of all English versification in common with
that of other languages.1

But Theobald's occasional principles were distinctly
better than his regular practice. It was not often the
case that he took exception to Pope's alterations in the
supposed interests of the meter. He found fault indeed
at times with his predecessors for their failure to correct
the lameness of certain lines. When this happened as a
result of their neglect to introduce some better reading

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. v. p. 57.

524

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

from the original authorities, there was then, but usually
only then, justification for his censure. Occasionally he
himself did not hesitate to follow the license which pre-
vailed in the eighteenth century in the editing of English
classics. The language of an author was to undergo
what was then called improvement. His grammar was
to be refashioned in order to make it conform to the
latest canons of verbal criticism. Sharing to no slight
extent in such feelings, it was almost inevitable that
Theobald should adopt numerous changes made by his
predecessor. A general statement to this effect has ap-
peared in a previous chapter. It is not, however, until
we take specific note of the whole number of details in
any given instance that we can appreciate the gravity of
his obligations, especially in the matter of versification.
Their nature and extent will be brought out sharply by
selecting one of the plays and observing the changes
from the original which were silently introduced into
its text by Pope and as silently accepted by Theobald.

Attention has been called earlier to the vast number
of these changes. In the particular drama selected for
consideration — * Measure for Measure ' — Pope intro-
duced about one hundred and sixty alterations, including
in the number the very pettiest as well as the important.
The action in this instance was typical ; the results
reached by the examination of any one play seem not
to differ essentially from those which follow the exam-
ination of any other. This fact disposes effectually of
the assertion that his work upon Shakespeare was purely
perfunctory. The Largeness of the number of his emenda-
tions was enough to furnish a superficially plausible

525

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

pretext for Malone's ridiculously extravagant assertion
that Pope's " fanciful alterations " were so many that if
Shakespeare had returned to earth he would not have
understood what he himself had said.1 The observation
is absurd because the changes made are usually of slight
consequence and very rarely do they interfere with the
comprehension of the meaning. It is possible, indeed,
that in some cases they might have met Shakespeare's
own approval. Take, as an illustration, one of the most
extreme of his emendations of the measure. In a speech
of Isabella to the Duke she is represented as giving him
an account of her agreement with Angelo in these two
lines, which in the original text appear as follows :

" There have I made my promise, upon the
Heavy middle of the night, to call upon him."

It was in this way these lines read in Pope's edition :

" There on the heavy middle of the night
Have I my promise made to call upon him."

In a similar way a slight transposition of words suffices
to change a somewhat rough verse into one perfectly
harmonious. At the close of the play the Duke thus
addresses Lucio :

" Wherein have I so deserved of you ? "

Pope imparted smoothness to the line by changing the
position of one word without in the slightest degree
affecting the meaning. In his edition it read as follows :

" Wherein have I deserved so of you ? "

1 Malone's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. lxvi.

526

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

Pope's rearrangement of the measure is not unfre-
quently followed in modern editions as well as by his
immediate successors. Among them is included the
conversion of passages into verse which had previously
been printed as prose, and the similar conversion into
prose of what had previously been treated as verse.
This class of his emendations need not be considered in
the statistical tables which set out to show Theobald's
indebtedness to his predecessor. The alterations affect-
ing the meter consisted mainly of the four following
kinds. There was first the addition of a word or of
words to the line ; secondly, the omission of a word or of
words from the line ; thirdly, the transposition of words
in the line ; and fourthly, the contraction of two words
or syllables into one, or a corresponding expansion.
Besides these there is a further class of more serious
alterations, — that consisting in the substitution by the
editor of some word of his own for the word found in
the original. These substitutions indeed were fre-
quently made for the sake of improving the measure ;
but they were also made for the purpose of correcting
errors or assumed errors of grammar or expression, and
occasionally with the intent to modify or alter the
meaning.

If these classes of alterations are arranged under their
various heads, the following tables will show the number
belonging to each class, and the extent to which Theo-
bald was influenced in this particular play by his prede-
cessor :

Number of words added by Pope to the text ... 17

Number of these adopted by Theobald 15

527

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

Number of words omitted by Pope from the text . . 50
Number of these omissions adopted by Theobald . . 21

Number of words transposed by Pope 6

Number of these alterations adopted by Theobald . 4

Number of words or syllables contracted or expanded

by Pope 17

Number of these alterations adopted by Theobald . 16

Number of substitutions made by Pope 57

Number of these adopted by Theobald 38

It will be seen that under these five classes are com-
prehended one hundred and forty-seven emendations
made by Pope. Of these Theobald introduced into his
text ninety-four and discarded fifty -three. As regards
the comparative importance of the alterations accepted
or rejected the preponderance of weight is distinctly on
the side of the latter. But with all the allowance to
be made on this score ; with all the consideration that
needs to be given to the intrinsic insignificance of most
of these changes, the number of instances in which
Theobald followed his predecessor must be deemed, from
the modern point of view, extraordinarily large ; for
what is true of this one play would be essentially true
of all. Hence the aggregate would amount to a number
that taken by itself would have almost the right to be
termed startling.

It is indeed needless to say that statistics, here as else-
where, live up to their usual lying character. No small
proportion of the instances in which Theobald adopted
Pope's readings were so unimportant that even the ex-
treme particularity with which modern scrupulousness
approaches the text would content itself with merely

528

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

noting them without regarding them. To substitute the
I'm of a previous revision for I am, or an I have for
I've, must be looked upon as reducing plagiarism as an
offence to its lowest possible terms. But throwing out
of view the numerous changes of this character, there
still remain too many places where Theobald followed
Pope in more violent alterations. For it his reputation
has justly suffered in later times. These changes were
further introduced into his text without the slightest
reference being made to the source from which they were
adopted. Undoubtedly Theobald in so doing was con-
forming to the general practice of his age. The course
he took had been the course followed by his predecessor.
It was the one continued by his immediate successor,
not to say successors. It was not at first the custom
of any editor to acknowledge his obligations to preced-
ing editors. He entered into their labors, he accepted
whatever of their alterations suited him, he rejected
what displeased him, but he rarely thought it worth
while to give them credit for emendations they had been
the first to make or to suggest, or even to mention their
names. There was indeed a disposition to treat the text
of every preceding edition as being of about the same
authority as the original, and subject it to the same
processes of manipulation and alteration.

It was in this way Pope had treated Rowe. He had
to a large extent followed closely the latter's text. The
emendations made by his predecessor he inserted into his
own edition without giving any indication of the source
from which they had been derived. This might be as-
cribed to indolence as well as to custom. Pope rarely
34 529

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

mentioned the changes which he made himself. It was
accordingly too much to count upon that he should
mention changes made by somebody else. But while
this was a common practice, it was not the sort of prac-
tice we should expect to be followed by a scholar like
Theobald. He sinned too against what must have been
his own clear conviction of right ; for, save in the case
of Pope, no one could have been more scrupulous than
he in the acknowledgment of obligation. Furthermore,
his course was all the more objectionable because he
occupied the position of a professed critic of his rival.
If Pope adopted without mention of the fact his prede-
cessor's readings, he made no attack upon him. He
refrained from calling attention to his ignorance or his
errors. In his case, to be sure, there had been no pro-
vocation. It was different with Theobald. He was,
therefore, perfectly justifiable in exposing the incom-
petence of the man who had pursued him with unre-
lenting virulence. But so long as he undertook to
establish beyond controversy the commission of blunders
by Pope he was morally bound to exhibit any special
instance, or at least the collective number of instances,
in which he had been indebted to the man whose blun-
ders he had been constantly engaged in pointing out.
This he failed to do save on the pettiest scale.

Herein Theobald's course deserves a severity of cen-
sure which, singularly enough, it has never received in
the slightest degree. It is significant of the feelings
and attitude of his age that no complaint was ever
lodged against him on this particular score. Pope could
not have failed to observe the use which had been made

530

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

of his own labors ; but in all the attacks he directed or
inspired against his rival editor, whether in prose or
verse, there was never so much as an allusion to a pro-
ceeding which in our time would occupy the most con-
spicuous place in the controversy. Nor did any of his
partisans ever make any comment upon the obligations
under which Theobald lay to his predecessor. Indeed,
Pope himself had been estopped by his own action
from attempting any such sort of criticism. In his
second edition he had not only introduced a number of
Theobald's emendations without acknowledgment, but
he had in the same way put forward as his own some of
his explanations. In ' Shakespeare Restored,' for illus-
tration, there had been a note on the following pas-
sage in 4 Hamlet,' x in which the queen is represented as
addressing her son in these words: —

" Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
Starts up and stands an end."

The comparison, " like life in excrements," puzzled later
readers. In at least two of the quartos that came out
uftcr the Restoration, it was dropped from the text.
Theobald pointed out that the expression was based
upon the notion that the hair and nails are without life
and sensation, and consequently are excrementitious ;
and that in this instance " fear and surprise had such an
effect upon Hamlet that his hairs, as if there were life
in those excrements, started up and stood on end."2
In his second edition Pope calmly appropriated this
explanation, almost in its very words, in a, note, as if it

1 Act iii., scene 4. 2 Shakespeare Restored, p. 48.

531

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

came from himself. As Theobald never made any pub-
lic claim that he had been the first to give the proper
interpretation of the passage, commentators from the
time of Warburton to this day have regularly assigned
it to its borrower and deprived of the credit of it its real
discoverer.

But though contemporaries never made it a ground
of reproach that Theobald had adopted numbers of
Pope's readings without acknowledgment, from the
modern standpoint he cannot be deemed blameless.
Furthermore, he must be held responsible for introduc-
ing the practice, which has since prevailed largely
among Shakespeare commentators, of giving no small
share of their time and attention to an exposure of the
blunders committed by their predecessors. It is the
correct thing to find fault with this method of proceed-
ing. We all censure it in theory, however little we
carry out our principles in our own practice. There was
no one of that early day who criticised previous editors
with more freedom than did Dr. Johnson. He rarely
neglected an opportunity to say something disparaging
of Theobald. He professed and doubtless entertained
profound respect for the living dignitary of the church
whose edition was the one his own followed. Yet a
large number of his notes were devoted to showing how
erroneous were the interpretations Warburton gave, and
how unjustifiable were the changes he made. But he
atoned for the censure found in the body of his work by
deploring the practice in his preface. A broader survey
of the situation may possibly lead us to take a different
view. As Hosea Biglow discovered that civilization

532

DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION

is very apt to get forward on a powder-cart, we may
perhaps be permitted to entertain a reasonable assurance
that the controversy which has been aroused by hostile
criticism, and which has in turn stimulated research,
has been distinctly helpful to the progress of Shake-
spearean investigation.

But whether this view be true or not, Theobald him-
self has been the greatest sufferer from the practice
which he introduced. It was continued in regard to
him by men who had not the excuse of his provocation.
His readings were largely adopted without acknowledg-
ment, his merits passed over in silence. On the other
hand, no occasion was neglected to dwell upon errors
which he had committed, or which ignorance supposed
him to have committed. Any half-dozen of his best
emendations would have made the permanent reputa-
tion of men of former as of present times who have
chosen to call him dull. But so steady and persistent
has been the depreciation which has waited upon his
name that even those whose researches have convinced
them of the falsity of the statements about his character
and achievements have been awed by the chorus of
denunciation which has come and still continues to
come from the irresponsible and the ignorant. When
they venture to speak in terms of approval, what is said is
often said half-heartedly and sometimes apologetically.

533

CHAPTER XXV

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

Though at the outset Theobald's edition had in its
favor the suffrages of all competent to express an opin-
ion, it was soon made manifest that his triumph was to
be a barren one. His fate is perhaps the most note-
worthy example in our literature of the losing fight
which the ordinary writer makes when he comes into
conflict with a man of genius who by his possession of
genius has acquired exceptional popularity. No matter
how just his quarrel, no matter how incontestable his
superiority in the points which are the subject of con-
troversy, he is destined to failure. Even were he to
achieve temporary success with his own age, posterity
would be sure to reverse its verdict. It is the side of
the great author it alone heeds, frequently the only side
of which it hears.

Theobald himself must have come early to recognize
that any partial triumph of his own must be short-lived.
Unquestionably he anticipated — as he had a right to
anticipate — that the superiority of his edition would be
so convincing that hostile criticism would be silenced.
" I am so very cool," he wrote to Warburton, " as to my
sentiments of my adversary's usage that I think the pub-
lic should not be too largely troubled with them. Block-

534

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

headry is the chief hinge of his satire upon me ; and if
my edition do not wipe out that, I ought to be content
to let the charge be fixed ; if it do, the reputation gained
will be a greater triumph than resentment." l From Pope
and his adherents he expected no mercy. But powerful
as he knew his enemy to be, he had underrated his
power. Against the influence of the poet, crushing all
opposition, it became increasingly useless to struggle.
At this particular period it was assisted by the general
ignorance which prevailed as to the character of the
work that needed to be done, and of the methods neces-
sary to do it properly. Theobald could not have failed
to see during his later life that his repute was largely
confined to the comparatively small class that were
really familiar with Shakespeare. But it pretty cer-
tainly never entered his head that the minds of those
possessing such knowledge would come eventually to be
influenced unfavorably towards him, by the deference
paid to Pope. He never could have dreamed of the
obloquy that after his death was to overtake his mem-
ory with the very men who were to devote themselves to
the same pursuits which he had followed and to build
their own reputations upon the foundations which he
had been the first to lay.

The hostility of the poet, it is needless to say, was
the most effective instrumentality in bringing about this
result. But to this ever-working agency were added
two contributory ones. These tended distinctly to the
undervaluation of Theobald's character and efforts; at
least they furnished a pretext for depreciation which

1 Letter of Nov. 18, 1731, in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 621.

535

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

was never neglected. One was the outcome of the nat-
ural but unwise course he pursued. Goaded on as he
was by persistent attacks, while his own edition was in
preparation, he forgot what he had written to Warburton
that if the superiority of his work were manifest, it
would be to him a greater triumph than any display of
resentment shown in exhibiting the blockheadry of his
antagonist. Under the circumstances it was doubtless
asking too much of human nature to adhere to a resolu-
tion so good. " There are provocations," he wrote,
"which a man can never quite forget." Unconscious
of his own impotence against a literary dominance so
overpowering, he announced his intention of assailing
his own assailant. " I shall willingly," he said, " devote
a part of my life to the honest endeavor of quitting
scores; with this exception, however, that I will not
return those civilities in his peculiar strain, but confine
myself at least to the limits of common decency." 1

Theobald certainly tried to carry his purposes into
effect. He took ample advantage of the numerous op-
portunities which presented themselves for exposing
Pope's shortcomings as an editor and his blunders as
a commentator. Much fault was found at the time and
later by the partisans of the poet at the way in which he
had been treated by his successor in the notes to his
edition. It was quite unbecoming in their eyes that
Theobald should resent the misrepresentations and cal-
umnies of which he had been made the subject. The
thing for him to do was to exhibit the qualities of meek-
ness, long- suffering, and patience which had been con-

1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i., Preface, p. xxxvii.

536

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

spicuous in the conduct of his assailant only by their
absence. There is not the slightest warrant for this
view from the side of justice. On that score Pope
deserved far worse treatment than he received. The
gross personal attacks he made were not returned in
kind. " I shall think it ever better," wrote Theobald,
" to want wit than to want humanity ; and impartial
posterity may perhaps be of my opinion." There is
a childlike confidence in the fairness of future gen-
erations expressed here which was never born of in-
sight. In the controversies in which a great writer
becomes engaged, posterity is rarely impartial. His in-
fluence is a constant quantity. Furthermore, it not only
never ceases to operate on its own account, it is continu-
ally drawing to itself the accumulations of favorable
opinion which accrue from the additions made by pre-
vious generations.

Theobald's course, therefore, though not unjustifiable,
was not the less impolitic. No ordinary reputation could
indeed have stood the exposure he had made of Pope's
indolence and incapacity ; but Pope's was far from be-
ing an ordinary reputation. The revelation of his errors
shook not in the slightest the faith of his adherents ; it
merely led them to view with dislike or detestation the
man who had revealed them. But the indifferent were
likewise alienated. Even those who fully recognized
Theobald's superiority as an editor could hardly be ex-
pected to have sympathy with the constantly recurring
comments on Pope's incompetence. Men in general are
too fully occupied with the consideration of their own
quarrels to care long for the quarrels of I >l licrs. The best

537

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

they can give them is a languid interest. If called upon
to do a great deal more, they become disposed to resent
the demand upon their attention. There is no question
that Theobald's exposure of Pope's general neglect and
specific blundering would have been far more effective
had he contented himself with quietly pointing out the
errors made, without giving expression to any adverse
comment upon their maker. As it was, readers came
speedily to be bored by the everlasting slaying of the
slain. Finally they began to resent it, to take the side of
the man who was so persistently assailed. They chose
to ignore the provocation which had been given. Theo-
bald's perfectly just and justifiable observations upon the
indolence and inefficiency of Pope as an editor were not
unfrequently styled illiberal abuse, even by those who
acknowledged the abstract correctness of his criticism.
These feelings about Theobald increased in process of
time instead of diminishing. It is one of the most
noticeable features in the history of Shakespearean
scholarship that, while his edition maintained its hold
and indeed rose in reputation, his" own personal reputa-
tion just as steadily fell. Recognition of the superiority
of his work was willingly or grudgingly accorded ; but it
was almost invariably accompanied with the depreciation
of the man. It still kept much the lead after the
editions of Hanmer and Warburton appeared. Dr.
Johnson's did not shake its supremacy in the general
estimation. The second edition of 1740 was followed
by a third in 1752, and afterward by a number of book-
sellers' reprints. Down even to the end of the eigh-
teenth century it held its ground. This fact gave great

538

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

grief to Malone. Earnest and laborious student of
Shakespeare as he was, there was no comparison be-
tween him and Theobald as regards mental acumen.
There are no small number of the Litter's emendations,
accepted by him as well as by every one else, which
Malone would have been intellectually incapable of
making. None the less did he assume the customary
attitude of condescending superiority. He admitted
that Theobald's edition had been justly preferred to
Pope's. Yet the fact that his work should still be
considered of any value showed only, he remarked,
how long impressions will remain after they are once
made. He further assured us that Theobald's knowl-
edge of contemporary authors was so scanty that all the
illustrations of the kind dispersed throughout his vol-
umes had been exceeded by the researches which had
since been made for elucidating a single play.1 Malone
did not intend to be mendacious ; he simply added to
the ignorant beliefs he had inherited his own ignorant
prejudices.

Still another agency came in to add its injurious effect
to the estimation in which Theobald was held. It was
due to a characteristic of his that was altogether to his
credit. But almost from the outset it was wrested to
his discredit. Any one indeed who familiarizes himself
with the practice he pursued and the treatment which he
received as a consequence of it, will become thoroughly
disabused of any belief in the truth of the maxim that
honesty is the best policy. It certainly does not apply
to Shakespearean investigation. No one was ever more
1 Malonc'H Bhaketpeare, vol. i. p. lwii (1790),
589

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

scrupulous than Theobald in the acknowledgment of
obligation. The least particle of service rendered him
was sure to meet with ample recognition, unless the
conferrer preferred to remain in obscurity. Everything
communicated to him received mention, whether it came
in the way of direct information or of remote suggestion.
Anonymous contributions were recorded. He did not
even exercise for himself a right, to which he was fully
entitled, of exclusive ownership of emendations which
he had himself originated. He was always willing and
even eager to share the repute of his own discoveries
with his friends and helpers. There is hardly any obser-
vation more frequent in his notes than that some partic-
ular correction which he had introduced into the text
had also occurred independently to some other person.
We are fully justified in asserting that he never put
forth as entirely his own an alteration or emendation
in which any one else had even a remote share. He
recorded suggestions which he had lighted upon in
quarters inaccessible to anybody but himself, and which,
had the fact been left unnoted by him, would have
remained unknown to everybody. There was no neces-
sity, save a moral one, to make disclosures of this char-
acter. It was a course of conduct which the divines
and scholars who followed him and maligned him were
particularly careful not to adopt.

And what has been Theobald's reward for this often
unnecessary recognition of the pretensions of others?
What benefit has he derived from that scrupulous avoid-
ance of arrogating exclusively to himself a single thing
to which any person, dead or alive, could lay even the

540

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

slightest claim ? He has more than paid the full pen-
alty which waits upon such injudicious honesty. If
lie remarked that some one else had also hit indepen-
dently upon the particular correction he inserted into
the text, credit for it has often been assigned not to him,
but to the man who but for him would have remained
unknown. The name of the latter was never forgotten
in connection with it ; whether his own would be even
so much as recorded was a matter of chance. Further-
more, from this invariable practice of acknowledging all
obligations for whatever had been contributed to the
improvement of the text, the view came gradually to
prevail that his work derived much of its value, if not
its main value, from the aid which he had received.
The impression was given that it was to his friends and
associates that he was indebted for many, if not most,
of his universally accepted emendations. " In what he
has done that is conjectural," wrote Capell, "he is rather
more happy ; but in that he had large assistance." In
truth, from the .comments which have frequently been
made upon him and his work, men would be led to draw
the inference that the one person who had the least to
do with Theobald's edition of Shakespeare was Theobald
himself.

Another result of this honesty of action and generosity
of acknowledgment was that the disposition early mani-
fested itself to deprive him in numerous instances of the
credit that was his due. The men who profited by his
labors frequently forgot to mention his mime. They
either assumed to themselves the credit of his emenda-
tions or ascribed them to others. In the former bad

541

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

business, Warburton was pre-eminent. He reaped too
from it at the time, and to some extent is still reaping
from it, the reward which the world is not indisposed to
bestow upon rascality in high places. A number of
Theobald's happiest emendations appear in his edition
with no name of Theobald attached to them or of any
one else. As he occasionally gave his predecessor
credit, the reader would naturally draw the inference
that he had ascribed to him all that was his due. He
would further assume, and as a matter of fact did as-
sume, both from what was put in and from what was
left out, that everything unattributed was Warburton's
own.

A single but noteworthy illustration of this fraudulent
practice is all that can be given here. Notice has
already been taken of the passage in ' Twelth Night ' in
which, in the folio of 1623 and the later editions, it is
said of Sir Andrew Aguecheek's hair that " it will not
cool my nature." Theobald's famous emendation of this
incomprehensible remark by substituting " curl by " for
" cool my " has now become so perfectly established as
part of the text that most people suppose that this is
the way in which the passage originally appeared. The
change of words he made he communicated to Warburton
in a private letter1 which the latter, when he brought
out his edition, had no reason to suppose to have escaped
destruction. Still, not even his reckless effrontery would
allow him to take the risk of claiming this alteration for
himself directly ; but he did it by implication. There is
no mention of Theobald in his note on the passage, no

1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 211.

542

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

suggestion that he had anything whatever to do with the
change. " We should read," said Warburton, after quot-
ing the original, " ' it will not curl by nature.' The joke
is evident." Much more evident is his own unscrupu-
lousness. Yet for nearly a third of a century the stolen
wares which he had passed off as his own were looked
upon as his property. To him the emendation was duly
credited in Johnson's edition of 1765. 1 So it was in the
edition of 1773.2 At length in that of 1778 — Warburton
was then in his dotage — tardy justice was rendered to
the real author by Steevens, whatever may have been
his motive. " This emendation is Theobald's," he wrote,
" though adopted without acknowledgment by Dr. War-
burton." 3 This is very far from being the only instance
of which a similar story can be told.

Warburton did even worse than this, though he did
not attempt to do it publicly. A man who in his first lit-
erary venture palmed off as his own a long passage from
one of Milton's prose works was not likely to feel much
hesitation in appropriating the results of the labor of an
obscure scholar, whenever and wherever he thought it
could be done without danger of detection. Theobald
had begged his aid in the preparation of his preface,
though he admitted that it was unreasonable to ask
what he could not well acknowledge in print. That
part of his work, he said, was the only one " in which I
shall not be able to be just to my friends ; for to confess
assistance in a preface will, I am afraid, make me appear
too naked." 4 The preface was not anything to be proud

1 Johnson's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 361. 2 Vol. iv. p. 15.3.

8 Vol. iv. p. 105. 4 Niehols, vol. ii. p. Gi>L\

543

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

of; but such as it was Warburton marked in his own
copy of Theobald's edition the passages in it for which
he was himself responsible.1 In so doing there was noth-
ing objectionable. But he further proceeded to designate
a number of notes which, according to his account, Theo-
bald had received from him and had then deprived him
of and made his own. Had there ever been the slightest
justification for making the charge he did, it would never
have been intrusted to chance disclosure. No silence
would have been maintained about it in his own edition.
No simple mention of the wrong he had suffered would
have sufficed; it would have been proclaimed vocifer-
ously. Yet this fictitious private record, though not de-
serving of the slightest respect, has in modern times been
apparently accepted as a treasure-house of fact, and the
slanderer of the dead man has been loaded with honors
which the dead man had won.

The example cited above is a single illustration out of
many of the systematic spoliation to which Theobald's
emendations and explanations were subjected, especially
during the latter half of the eighteenth century. But
the same process was extended to his general methods as
well as his specific restorations. He had been the first
to attempt any real collation of the sources of the text,
the first to make an examination of contemporary Eliza-
bethan literature to illustrate its meaning. The credit
of doing both was carefully transferred to the men who
maligned him. According to Dr. Johnson, it was to
Pope that we are indebted for the knowledge of the
methods by which the original could be restored to its

1 Cambridge Shakespeare (ed. of 1891), vol. i. p. xxxi.

544

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

primitive purity. " He was the first that knew," said
he of the poet, "at least the first that told, by what helps
the text might be improved. If he inspected the early
editions negligently, he taught others to be more accu-
rate." Whom did he teach ? it may well be asked.
Certainly not Hanmer, certainly not Warburton. Not
even can Dr. Johnson himself be reckoned among his
disciples. So far as any later editors achieved success, it
was by following and improving upon the methods which
Theobald had adopted. But even this tribute to Pope
was surpassed by a similar tribute paid to Johnson him-
self and his associate. To Steevens it was, Isaac Reed
tells us, that " the praise is due of having first adopted
and carried into execution Dr. Johnson's admirable plan
of illustrating Shakespeare by the study of the writers
of his time." 1

The mention of Johnson brings up the consideration
of the additional malignant influence which acted upon
Theobald's reputation. Pope had been the literary
dictator of his age. His likes and dislikes, his favorable
or unfavorable judgments were echoed by thousands.
In due time he was succeeded by Dr. Johnson. The
latter manifested from the outset a disposition to as-
sume his predecessor's prejudices, save where they con-
flicted with his own. To this he was largely urged by
gratitude. His poem of * London ' had been published
in 1738 in the days of his poverty and distress. Pope
had praised it, had inquired about its author, and had
made some effort, though with no result, to serve his

1 Johnson and Steerens' Shakespeare, Reed's Advertisement, ed. of

180.J, vol. i. j). iii.

35 545

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

interests. Again, Johnson had felt himself indebted to
Warburton, who had become Theobald's most virulent
depredator. His own little treatise on 4 Macbeth ' had
been put forth in 1745. Two years later Warburton,
in the preface to his edition of Shakespeare, spoke with
the utmost contempt of the remarks and observations on
the plays of the dramatist which had from time to time
appeared. They were, he said, absolutely below serious
notice. One exception, however, he made to this sweep-
ing condemnation. This was in favor of " some critical
notes on Macbeth, given as a specimen of a projected
edition, and written, as appears, by a man of parts and
genius." l

Johnson never forgot any benefit he received in the
days of his adversity. He did not seek to analyze the
motives which had led Warburton to speak of him in
terms so flattering. It did not occur to him that the
praise bestowed may have been due to the compliment
he had paid to his commender's learning, or to the sym-
pathy the latter felt with the hostile criticism which had
been passed upon Hanmer. Him Warburton detested
almost as much as he admired himself. It was enough
for Johnson that while obscure and almost penniless
he had been selected for approval where all others had
been censured. He entertained henceforth a grateful
remembrance of the man. " He praised me," Bos well
represents him as saying, " when praise was of value to
me." It unconsciously disposed him to side still more
with Pope and Warburton in their disparagement of
Theobald. As time went on there was a distinct in-

1 Warburton's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. xiii.

546

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

crease of the depreciatory manner in which he spoke of
the last editor, and he finally exhibited nearly as much
virulence in his comments upon him as did the two
others.

This hostile attitude did not show itself at first. In
his observations upon * Macbeth ' Johnson fell in with
the sentiment still lingering, if not generally prevailing,
and treated his predecessor with a good deal of con-
sideration. But in the course of a few years he adopted
the current practice of depreciation and calumny which
the influence of Pope, more potent after death than in
life, had by that time made the fashion. In the pro-
posals he put forth in 1756 for his own projected edition
of Shakespeare he made prominent a charge the truth
of which he did not vouch for and the falsity of which
he could have ascertained by the slightest investigation,
if investigation indeed were needed. He observed that
both Rowe and Pope were ignorant of ancient English
literature. This was a sort of knowledge which he
could not deny to their successor. But he broke the
force of it as far as possible by remarking that Theobald,
"if fame be just to his memory, considered learning
only as an instrument of gain, and made no further
enquiry after his author's meaning, when once he had
notes sufficient to embellish his page with the expected
decorations." This purely gratuitous as well as base-
less slander came with an especially ill grace from a
professed moralist, who for his own protection hedged
about with a condition a false report which nevertheless,
coming from him, was sure to be accepted by all as a
truth.

547

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

By the time his own edition appeared Johnson had
ceased to speak indulgently of Theobald's failures or
to express any admiration for his successes. In his
famous preface, one of the most widely read pieces he
ever wrote, his tone was disparaging and contemptuous
throughout. He re-echoed all the misstatements which
Pope had originated and Warburton had repeated. He
spoke of Theobald as restoring a comma and then cele-
brating the achievement by a panegyric upon himself.
He depreciated his ability and acquirements and gave
to his slanderer the credit of several of his emendations.
He described him personally as " weak and ignorant,
mean and faithless, petulant and ostentatious." The
nearest approach to either fairness or truth that Johnson
reached in his characterization was the conclusion of the
sentence in which he spoke of Theobald as a " man of
narrow comprehension, with no native and intrinsic
splendor of genius, with little of the artificial light
of learning, but zealous for minute accuracy and not
negligent in pursuing it." Johnson's intellect was in-
deed too powerful to be imposed upon by Pope's talk
about verbal criticism. He fully recognized its value
as well as its necessity. He saw that the poet's hos-
tility to it and depreciation of it was due to his irritation
at finding his deficiencies detected by a man, according
to this view, "of heavy diligence with very slender
powers." But while he exposed the pretension that
miscarriage in an undertaking of this sort was due only
to having a mind too great for such minute employ-
ment, the apparent censure of Pope contributed to
strengthen the belief that in speaking of Theobald as

548

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

he had done he was displaying absolute impartiality of
judgment.

To both his great detractors Theobald was far super-
ior in the special subject in which his achievement came
into competition with theirs. But had his ability and
acquirements been immensely greater than they were,
they would not have enabled him to hold his ground in
general estimation against the authority of two such
mighty antagonists as Pope and Johnson. Hencefor-
ward, either through the influence of the one or of
the other, or through the combined influence of both,
the tone in which he was spoken of by all succeeding
editors and critics was one of extreme disparagement.
We have seen how Capell, who in many respects re-
sembled him, lost for once the unintelligibility of his
utterance long enough to construct on this point sen-
tences sufficiently clear to be understood at a single
reading. A not uncommon belief of the time was
expressed by one of Capell's reviewers. He tells us
that " Mr. Theobald, who obtained some degree of
fame merely by being the adversary of Pope, pos-
sessed neither ingenuity, judgment nor scarcely common
sense." l The smug Farmer in his vastly overrated
essay on the learning of Shakespeare went constantly
out of his way to cast reflections upon an editor whose
shoe-latchet he was not worthy to unloose.

This became indeed the prevalent practice. All sorts
of stories were fabricated about Theobald and set in
circulation.2 All sorts of charges were devised. Men

1 English Review, February, 1784, vol. ill- p. 171.

2 E. <j., Goldsmith's 'Citizen of the World,' letter 113.

649

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

were sure to find in him the weaknesses to which they
themselves were subject, or the characteristics which
they were secretly conscious they themselves possessed.
Johnson wrote avowedly for gain. Hence it was easy
for him to believe that Theobald's conduct was actuated
by purely sordid motives. Steevens was as unscrupu-
lous as Pope himself, if he thought he could convey
safely a wrong impression, belief in which would re-
bound to his own credit. He accused him therefore
not merely of inattention, but of clisingenuousness. If
Theobald made a mistake resulting from oversight — and
in the mass of details he handled he was sure to make
some — it was attributed, not to inadvertence, but to
deliberate intent to deceive. A reading in 'Romeo and
Juliet' in Pope's Shakespeare his successor imputed to
the poet's own invention. He could not find it, he said,
in any other edition. It so happens it occurs in the
imperfect quarto of 1597, included by Theobald him-
self in his own list of authorities. In making his
collation he had therefore committed an error. In
making the statement he did about his predecessor
he was guilty of a wrong imputation based upon un-
justifiable carelessness on his own part. But careless-
ness would not suffice to explain such action to Steevens.
It was disingenuousness which had prompted the remark.
That severe moralist felt himself compelled to say in the
discussion of a somewhat similar erroneous statement,
that Theobald, relying upon the scarcity of the old
quartos, made them answerable for anything he thought
proper to insert.1

1 Johnson and Steevens' Shakespeare, ed. of 1773, vol. x. p. 131.

550

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

This is no single instance. The opportunities which
Theobald occasionally gave for invidious reflection
upon his personal character and motives were never
neglected. In the preface 1 to his first edition he
certainly strained faith to the point of credulity by
remarking that he had read above eight hundred old
English plays to ascertain the obsolete and uncommon
phrases of Shakespeare. He undoubtedly included in
the estimate different editions of the same play. But
taking the most favorable view possible of the state-
ment, it was an unpardonable exaggeration, and in
the second edition it was dropped. Still, the original
assertion continued to bring grief to the sensitive soul
of Steevens. In the edition of 1778 he called atten-
tion to it. He noted that Theobald had omitted it in
the republication of his work. "I hope he did," said
Steevens piously, "through a consciousness of its utter
falsehood; for if we except the plays of the authors
already mentioned, it would be difficult to discover
half the number that were written early enough to
serve the purpose for which he pretends to have perused
this imaginary stock of ancient literature."2

If Theobald had exaggerated, he had apparently re-
pented. Such a state of mind is one of which Steevens
seems never to have been consciously aware. He went
on to make certain statements about the number of
plays which had been in Theobald's possession. " I
might add," he said, " that the private collection of Mr.
Theobald, which, including the plays of Jonson, Shake-

1 Page lxviii.

2 Johnson and Steevens' Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 76, note.

551

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

speare and Fletcher, did not amount to many more than
a hundred, remained entire in the hands of the late Mr.
Tonson till the time of his death." This was intended
to give the impression, not merely that Theobald owned
no more than this limited number of plays, but that
these were all with which he was familiar. So the note
remained in all his later editions. But in that of 1793 1
Isaac Reed was permitted to follow it up with some
further information. It was in September, 1744, that
Theobald died. In the month following, his books were
dispersed. " His library," wrote Reed, " was advertised
to be sold by auction by Charles Corbett, and on the
third day was the following lot: two hundred and
ninety-five old English plays in quarto, some of them
so scarce as not to be had at any price ; to many of
which are manuscript notes and remarks by Mr. Theo-
bald, all done up neatly in boards and single plays.
They will all be sold in one lot." According to this
account the few more than a hundred plays had swelled
to nearly three hundred. This of itself would effectu-
ally dispose of Steevens' assertion. He may at first
have believed what he said to be true ; but he continued
the original statement unchanged, while printing along-
side of it the evidence which showed it to be false.
Reed had, however, made a mistake. The lot he
specified as embracing two hundred and ninety-five
plays embraced but one hundred and ninety-five. But
besides these the catalogue contained several lots, each
designated simply as " A Volume of Plays." In addition
there were the collected or bound-up works of specific

1 Vol. i. p. 331.

552

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

authors, among whom were Shakespeare, Beaumont and
Fletcher, Massinger, Lyly, and Mars ton. The number
of plays in Theobald's library must clearly have reached
several hundred.1

The catalogue did more than prove the falsity of
Steevens' insinuation. It makes clear that the state-
ments, now so current, about the penury of Theobald's
later years must be taken with many more than the ordi-
nary grains of allowance. The sale occupied four suc-
cessive evenings. It needs no argument to prove that it
never took that number of days to dispose of the library
of a man who had long been living and had actually
died in a state of destitution. Especially would this
observation be true of the possessor of one hundred and
ninety-live old English plays which occupied a place of
so little prominence in his collection as to be sold in one
lot. Of course there is a great difference in the values
of that age and of our own. The accumulation of such
a number of pieces would be possible now only for a
man of vast wealth. But even in those days of low
prices and of comparatively little demand, such a collec-

1 The title-page of the catalogue of Theobald's library offered for sale
runs as follows :

u A Catalogue of the Library of Lewis Theobald, Esq., deeeas'd : Among
which are many of the Classicks, Poets and Historians, of tho best Edi-
tions. Many Variorums and Dolphins. Several Curious Manuscripts.
Very near a compleat collection of the scarce old Quarto Plays, all neatly
done up singly in Boards. And other curious Articles. Which will be
sold by Auction, on Tuesday, Oct. 23rd, 1744, and the three following
Evenings, beginning exactly at Five o'Clockat St,. Paul's Coffee House, in

St,. Paul's Church Yard. By Charles Corhett,."

Three years later an advertisement, by Thomas Osboro in the St,. James

Etening Post — No. 5808, April 9-11, 1747 — shows that Theobald's

collection of plays had been Still kept together in part.

553

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

tion represented no slight pecuniary investment. Theo-
bald was pretty surely never overburdened with means ;
he doubtless considered himself poor and was considered
by others as poor ; but it was comparative poverty he
suffered from, and not actual.

Books indeed were the tools of Theobald's trade. In
them, without question, his wealth largely consisted.
The number of them in his possession, limited as were
his means, renders particularly ridiculous the doubt or
denial of his learning which later it became the fashion
to affect. This was a view of his acquirements which
it never entered into the minds of his contemporaries to
conceive. With them the accusation was that he had
too much lumber of the sort in his head. Pope, wnose
deficiency lay on that side, described in the original
1 Dunciad - the contents of Theobald's library. He called
it ' a Gothic Vatican ' in days when the term ' Gothic '
conveyed a sense distinctly disparaging. According
to his representation it consisted specifically of dry
scholastic and theological tomes, and generally of all
the dull authors of the dullest ages. There was un-
questionably a good deal of truth in the picture. Even
did we lack exact knowledge of what his library con-
tained at his death it was manifest, from Theobald's
correspondence with Warburton and from his notes on
Shakespeare, that at an earlier period it was liberally
supplied with editions of the Greek and Latin classics ;
with the treatises upon them of commentators and
scholiasts; with the writings in Latin of numerous
modern scholars in various departments of learning;
with English authors whom everybody reads, but much

554

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

more with those whom scarcely anybody read then and
not many have read since. It is equally evident that
he was familiar in varying degrees with Anglo-Saxon,
with French, with Italian, and with Spanish. In the
letters to Warburton he quoted Machiavelli, Cynthio,
and Rabelais in the original ; and in his possession were
found works in the three modern tongues mentioned.

The truth is that while there have been far greater
men among the editors of Shakespeare than Theobald,
there has never been one whose learning covered more
ground in many different fields, perhaps not one whose
learning covered so much. He not only had the books
in these various subjects, he was familiar with their con-
tents. It was the knowledge derived from them, only
to be acquired by long and arduous study, that fixed
upon him the reputation of heavy diligence and plodding
industry. No one can read his letters to Warburton
without recognizing his superiority to his correspondent,
not merely in the accuracy but in the comprehensiveness
and extent of his learning. His authorities were not
brought forward for any purpose of display. They were
cited in the privacy of personal communications to illus-
trate a point or to enforce an argument. It is only the
most hardened of specialists that would now recognize
even the names of a large number of the scholiasts to
whose writings he refers. His familiarity with recon-
dite sources of information would excite the respect of
the profoundest of modern scholars as it assuredly did
that of the scholars of his own time. Neglecting this
formidable body of critics and commentators, let us con-
fine our attention to the ancient writers whom he cited

555

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

in the course of this correspondence. They constitute a
list well worth remarking.

The Latin authors from whom he extracted pertinent
passages were Cicero, Claudian, Julius Frontinus,
Horace, Juvenal, Lucretius, Manilius, Martial, Nonius
Marcellus, Ovid, Paterculus, Plautus, the elder Pliny,
Sallust, Seneca, Statius, Suetonius, Publius Syrus, Ter-
ence, Tibullus, Aurelius Victor, and Virgil. In Greek
the same wide range of reading was displayed. He
cited passages from iEschylus, Anacreon, Appian, Aris-
tophanes, Athenams, Dion Cassius, Dioscorides, Eurip-
ides, Heliodorus, Harpocration, Hesychius, Hesiod,
Homer, Menander, Musseus, Plutarch, Sophocles,
Strabo, Suidas, Theophrastus, and Xenophon. The
references to these all came in naturally. Theobald's
acquaintance with the least known writers of this list,
and with other writers less known than the least known
among these was then conceded by all. By some it was
made a subject of ridicule. It is a proof of the damage
wrought by Pope to his critic's reputation that later
times denied the latter the possession of the erudi-
tion for the accumulation of which he was derided by
contemporaries. Any assertion of belief in his acquire-
ments was put forth hesitatingly. How all-potent had
become the depreciation of his learning, how late it con-
tinued, can be seen from the account given of his life
by John Nichols in 1817. This was as favorable as any
one then dared to make it, for Nichols had some knowl-
edge of what he was talking about. He ventured to
utter by implication a mild protest against the then
prevalent derogatory estimate of Theobald's attainments.

556

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

" In an intimate acquaintance with the Greek and
Roman Classicks," he wrote, "he was at least on an
equality with Mr. Pope — perhaps even his superior." 1
Did we not know this to be sincere, we should suspect
it of sarcasm. Pope was something far greater than a
scholar; but his pretensions to learning were of the
slimmest.

It was a consequence of the disrepute into which
Theobald fell, and of the contempt heaped upon his
learning and ability, that the progress of Shakespearean
scholarship was distinctly retarded in the eighteenth
century. One early apparent result of it was his failure
to bring out his promised edition of the minor poems
and with it the glossary to his complete works. To the
preparation of both he had paid a good deal of attention.
At the time the edition of the plays was published they
were announced in his preface as ready to appear in a
single volume.2 A few months later he made a state-
ment to the same effect in a letter to one of the journals.3
But for some reason the work never saw the light. The
fault may possibly have been due to his own indolence.
It is far more likely to have been caused by his inability
to secure a sufficient number of subscribers to justify
going to the press. But whatever the reason, the result
was to be deplored. One of these undertakings cer-
tainly would not and the other might not have met
fully the demands of modern scholarship. But, how-
ever unsatisfactory they might seem now, they would

1 Nichols' Literary Anecdotes, vol. v. p. 729.

2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. xliv.

8 Grub-street Journal, No. 232, Juno G, 1734.

557

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

have been a vast advance upon anything known
then.

No small number of illustrations could be furnished
of the uncertainty and ignorance which came to prevail
in the eighteenth century as a result of ignoring Theo-
bald's contributions to the knowledge of Shakespeare,
or of dismissing them with contempt. Definitions and
interpretations which he had given were disregarded or
set aside. After long delay his discoveries were redis-
covered, his explanations were re-explained and then
accepted. But the credit due was carefully transferred
to the later promulgator of his views. Take the single
case of the word unaneled in ' Hamlet.' Theobald not
only explained the word properly, but showed both from
the derivation and the context that it could mean nothing
else than what he said it meant. In truth it had been
one of the few words contained in the meager glossary
included in the Shakespeare supplementary volume of
1710. There it had been defined briefly but correctly as
" without extreme unction." But even after Theobald's
fuller and absolutely convincing treatment, it took more
than a half a century to get this signification established.
Hanmer fancied it allied to anneal. Accordingly he
explained it as meaning ' unprepared,' because to anneal
metals is to prepare them for manufacture. Warburton
— apparently out of pure perverseness — went back to
Pope's interpretation of " no knell rung," which Theo-
bald had completely disposed of in his note. Johnson
actually adopted this absurd definition in his dictionary,
though he professed doubt as to its correctness. When
he came to his edition of Shakespeare he was still in the

558

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

same state of uncertainty. " I think," he said, with
apparent reluctance, " Theobald's objection to the sense
of unaneaVd for c notified by the bell ' must be owned to
be very strong. I have not yet by my enquiry satisfied
myself." l This doubt about accepting a perfectly satis-
factory explanation, this preference for a preposterous
one continued through the editions of 1773, 1778, and
1785. In the magazines men continued to quarrel over
the signification of the word. It was not till Malone's
edition of 1790 that Pope's ridiculous definition disap-
peared from the notes. He was followed by Steevens in
1793. Thus after long waiting and protracted contro-
versy was finally received as settled the true sense which
had been given and confirmed by evidence more than
half a century before. But in the pages of neither
Steevens nor Malone can Theobald's name be found as
the one who had had anything to do with the expla-
nation, still less as the one who had established its
correctness.

With the further researches which followed the pub-
blication of the variorum of 1821 there came to be a grad-
ual awakening among Shakespeare scholars to the value
of Theobald's services. His merits were admitted,
though somewhat grudgingly. He was a dull man, of
course. Had not both Pope and Johnson said so, fol-
lowed by the whole rabble of critics ? But as men
studied more and more the original authorities, a sense
of the injustice with which he had been treated began
to dawn upon their minds. One of the earlier recog-
nitions of what he had accomplished came from Maginn

1 Johnson's Shakespeare, vol. x. p. 168

559

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

in his discussion of Farmer's l Essay on the Learning of
Shakespeare.' It was not allowed to be over-enthusias-
tic. Nor was its author any better informed than his
contemporaries as to Theobald's character or as to the
facts of his career. So on the strength of the misstate-
ments contained in the notes to 'The Dunciad' and
sources of information equally accurate, Maginn accepted
and repeated the current charges against Theobald of
inordinate self-conceit and of jealous dislike of his rival
editor. Furthermore he was still under the prevalent
delusion that hostility between the two men sprang up
because they were both engaged at the same time in
producing editions of Shakespeare. One indeed gets
from his account the impression that Theobald was the
aggressor. " Pope, he thought, and with some justice,"
wrote Maginn, " had treated him unfairly, in deviating
from the paths of poetry to intrude into the walks of
commentatorship, especially as it was known that Theo-
bald had been long engaged upon Shakespeare before
the booksellers enlisted Pope." 1 As anything of this
kind was never known to have been, but is known to
have not been, we can dismiss without comment the
further remark that Theobald felt it hard " that a great
name should be called in to blight the labor of his
life."

But with all his shortcomings in knowledge Maginn
had a full appreciation of what the first great editor of
Shakespeare accomplished. " A worse-used man," he
said, " does not exist in our literature than this same
poor Theobald. ... It is the commentary of Theobald

1 Fraser's Magazine, vol. xx. p. 266, September, 1 839.

560

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

that guides all his successors, including those who most
insult him." In his attitude, in truth, Maginn was a
good deal in advance of Charles Knight, whose edition
of Shakespeare appeared about the same time as the
criticism made by the former upon Farmer. Knight rec-
ognized fully the superiority of Theobald to the five
editors who were his immediate predecessors or succes-
sors. In a way he was disposed to do him justice.
" He has left us, we cannot avoid thinking," are his
words, — it was apparently something desirable to avoid
thinking, — " the best of all the conjectural emenda-
tions." Yet he lumped him among the members of that
one of his two schools into which he divided all Shake-
speare commentators, — the school " which did not seek
any very exact acquaintance with our early literature, and
which would have despised the exhibition, if not the
reality of antiquarian and bibliographical knowledge."
Ignorance of the man and of his work could not much
farther go.

With the increasingly minute attention which came
to be paid to the text of Shakespeare, views like that
just expressed could not long prevail among those who
devoted themselves to this branch of investigation. The
progress of research was constantly stripping from
others and restoring to the rightful owner the credit of
emendations which had generally been accepted ; though
in this direction there still remains a good deal to be
done. The estimate in which Theobald was held came
in consequence to rise steadily with the special students
of the dramatist. Two or three illustrations out of
many must suffice to show the general direction of the
88 561

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

current of opinion which began to set in during the
middle and later part of the nineteenth century. In
this country as early as 1854 Richard Grant White, then
engaged in the preparation of his edition, bore witness
to the excellence of Theobald's work. " Theobald," he
wrote, u is one of the very best editors who have fallen
to the lot of Shakespeare. He was the first who did any
great service by conjectural emendation and the judi-
cious use of the quartos." 1

A little more than a half-score years later a further
impressive tribute was paid by the editors of the Cam-
bridge Shakespeare. Their testimony was the more
valuable because it came from men who had made it a
special object to assign to each commentator full credit
for the emendations for which he was individually re-
sponsible. Nor could they have failed to notice, though
they did not attempt to record them, the numerous
instances in which Theobald had varied from the pre-
vious editions by restoring the right reading from the
original sources. They arraigned sharply the injustice
of Warton's words in speaking of Theobald as " a cold,
plodding and tasteless writer and critic." They pro-
nounced him incomparably superior to his predecessors
and immediate successors. As a result of their own
examination of the quartos and folios they expressed
distinct dissent from Capell's assertion that Theobald was
no better collator than Pope.2 In the great variorum
edition now appearing he is described in the same tone
of hearty appreciation, as " one of the best editors

1 Shakespeare's Scholar, p. 9 (1854).

2 Vol. i. p. xxxii, ed. of 1891.

562

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

Shakespeare ever had." l Nor, finally, is any one likely to
overlook the eloquent tribute paid to Theobald by a
scholar of our own day, who, not content with defending
him against his assailants, has attacked them with vigor
in a noted article in which he styled Theobald " the
Porson of Shakespearean criticism."

But after all, this recognition of Theobald's merits has
been largely confined to those who have interested them-
selves in the text of Shakespeare. Their tributes are at
best but eddies in the general current of depreciation
which has been flowing with almost unvarying steadi-
ness since his death. By the mass of educated men the
same old beliefs continue to be entertained, the same old
absurd statements continue to be made. The absolute
contradiction between the view taken of the man and of
the man's work makes no impression upon the common
mind. He was heavy ; but he succeeded in producing a
better edition of Shakespeare than eminent authors of
his century, two of whom indeed were most eminent.
He was dull; but he was able to clear up difficulties
which had baffled the efforts of the acutest intellects of
his own and preceding times. He was pedantic; but
he freed the work of the dramatist from charges which
pedantic criticism had sought to fasten upon its char-
acter. He was tasteless ; but he supplied readings far
more poetic than those of the men presumably pre-emi-
nent for taste, and gave to passages whose meaning was
in dispute a loftier and therefore better interpretation
than did they. In the comments made upon Theobald
we are constantly reminded of the line of reasoning

1 Furness's ' New Variorum edition of Shakespeare,' vol. iii. p. 456,

503

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

followed by Macaulay when he put forth his dictum
that : Bos well became the greatest of biographers because
he was so distinctly the greatest of fools.

Naturally the editors of Pope have as a rule adopted
the opinion he expressed of the man who had made him
feel his inferiority as a Shakespeare ' scholar. Even
those of them who have taken delight in exposing his
untrustworthiness in other matters or about other men
have never sought to show the falsity of his assertions
about his rival. There are those among them who have
repeated them with added emphasis. As late as 1889,
we can see their attitude exemplified in the elaborate
edition of the poet's works which then appeared. That
edition cannot be charged — certainly at the outset —
with manifesting the least tenderness for Pope's mem-
ory. Yet in the introduction to the volume containing
' The Dunciad ' we find all the old misrepresentations
and mendacities in regard to Theobald nourishing in
their pristine vigor. The selection of the original hero
of the satire, it is there asserted, was in itself judicious.
Theobald, we are told, was the type of a class which the
poet was resolved to crush. " He was pedantic," re-
marks the editor, "poor, and somewhat malignant. He
had attempted with equal ill-success original poetry,
translation, and play-writing ; and had indeed no dis-
qualification for the throne of Dulness except his insig-
nificance." 1 Yet even the writer of this passage, which
contains about as much error as can be crowded into a
similar number of words, concedes that Theobald " was
by nature better qualified than Pope for the task which

1 Pope's ' Works,' vol. iv. p. 27.

56±

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

both had undertaken; and he had exhibited Pope to
the world in a position of somewhat ridiculous inferi-
ority." This is a good deal to be accomplished by a
commentator pedantic, somewhat malignant, and alto-
gether insignificant. The view is apparently based
upon the theory which Pope and his partisans held or
implied, that the stupider one was, the greater was
his chance of success as a commentator. To be endowed
with dulness specially qualified a man to undertake the
task of annotating and explaining an author. It was
hardly to be expected, however, that such a view would
receive in any form the countenance of one who had
assumed the office of an editor.

From many of the calumnies once accepted as to his
character and achievement, Theobald's name has been
rescued in these later times. But it is doubtful — per-
haps it would be better to say, it is much more than
doubtful — if his reputation will ever recover from the
blow inflicted upon it by his implacable enemy. For
while the exposure of the poet's practices has revealed
his character as a man, it has not rehabilitated the
reputation of his victims. As time goes by, there will
be among special students of Shakespeare an increasing
sense of the value of the services Theobald rendered.
From time to time a few voices will be lifted up pub-
licly in protest against the gross injustice which lias
been done to his attainments and abilities. But there is
never likely to be any general recognition of his merits,
never any complete dissipation of the cloud of detraction
which after his death settled upon his memory ; for to
say nothing of his other traducers there will never cease

565

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE

to operate the potent influence of him who was the great-
est of them all.

True it is that for us the glamour which once invested
the name of Pope has vanished almost entirely. As a
poet he is sadly shorn of his ancient repute and glory.
There are scores and even hundreds of cultivated men to
whom he is now little more than a name. Phrases and
lines from works he wrote are still in every one's mouth ;
but comparatively few among those that use them are
they who know from where they come. Even on the
part of those who are fairly familiar with his writings,
there is a tendency to depreciate the poet for the very
qualities and characteristics which once gave him fame
and influence. But for all that, Pope still remains a
power. Furthermore he will always remain a power.
In every generation he will have a body of adherents
and admirers while brilliancy and wit and pointed ex-
pression find favor among men. His readers will be-
come his partisans ; for admiration of the man's work
will, as is ever the case, extend to admiration of the man
himself . In every controversy in which he was engaged
they will embrace with ignorant but enthusiastic zeal
his side, because it is the only side they know or care
to know. They will adopt the views he took of his op-
ponents, they will accept with undoubting faith his
grossest misrepresentations of their character and acts.
No agency can act effectively against the affection and
admiration which genius inspires. No interest can at-
tach to the fortunes of an obscure scholar whose cause
will receive its only support from that sense of justice
which appeals to but a limited number. By the few his

SS6

THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION

worth may be recognized ; but by the many he will con-
tinue to be either disregarded or calumniated. The fate
of Theobald is likely to remain for all time a striking
instance, in the annals of literary history, of how suc-
cessfully, to use the words of the author he did so much
to illustrate, malice can bear down truth.

567

INDEX

Abradas, 508.

Addison, Joseph, 5, 70, 93, 128,

203, 206, 262, 265, 300, 304, 356,

475, 481.
Akenside, Mark, 193.
Alexander and Lodowick, a

play, 15.
Alley*, Edward, 11.
Anachronisms, indifference of

great authors to, 212.
Abbuthnot, Dr. John, 202, 324,

398.
Aiiden of Feversham, a play,

115.
Arnall, William, 303.
Asciiam, Roger, his ' Toxophilus,'

496.
aspect, accentuation of, 151.
asprey, for Wtpre.y, 177.

A8TROIT, 361.

Atterbury, Francis, hishop of

Rochester, 81.
Austin, Jane, her defence of

novels, 37.
Author to be let, An, 377-379
Ayre, William, 384.

Rargulus, 607.

Beaumont, Francis, 43.

Beaumont and Fletcher's
Works, 24, 41, 882, 385, 663.

Bcggab's Opera, The, 13(5.

Renteey, Richard, 210, 387, 381,
441, 445, 446; his edition of
Milton, 423-130; Mallet's at-
tack on, 430-432, 435, 486, 443;
Pope's attack! on, 409 111, 17:;.

Rentley, Richard, Jr., 410.

BETEEM, 171.

Retterton, Thomas, 113.

Rirth or Merlin, The, a play,
115.

Bishop, Hawley, 334, 490.

Rlackmore, Sir Richard, 153, 204,
205, 207, 229, 270, 295.

Bohemia, a maritime country?
510.

Bolingbroke, Henry St. John,
viscount, 303, 435, 436, 437,
482. •

Booth, Barton, 126, 441.

Boswell, James, 546, 564.

Boyle, see Orrery.

Bowles, William Lisle, 340.

Bramston, James, 271.

Breval, John Durant, his ' Con-
federates/ 324.

Brooke, Henry, 467.

Broome, William, 81, 82, ,193,
199, 200, 208, 209, 221, 365, 470,
477.

Brown, John, his ' Estimate,' 468 ;
• Essay upon Satire,' 468.

Budgell, Eustace, 261, 262, 290,
483; starts the 'Bee,' 396; at-
tacks Pope, 399-402.

Hi ijeington, Richard Boyle, Earl
of, 415.

BUBNBT, Sir Thomas, 255, 269.

Bykon, Lord, 111.

(' i sak's Call, a play, 20.
Cambridge, Richard Owen, his
' Bcribleriad.' 121.

.71

INDEX

Cambridge Shakespeare, The,
562.

Capell, Edward, 86, 112, 458,
506; attacks Theobald 113, 483,
484, 541, 549, 562.

Carrutiiers, Robert, 385.

Caryll, John, 399, 474.

Caxton, William, 213, 347, 433.

Chandos, James Brydges, Duke
of, 415.

Chapman, George, 27, 32, 34, 35, 38.

Chaucer, Geoffrey, 347, 504, 507.

Chesterfield, Philip Dormer
Stanhope, Earl of, 466.

Ciikttle, Henry, 9, 10, 20, 21, 27.

Cibber, Colley, 153, 201, 276, 296,
389, 408, 441; Pope's hostility
to, 119, 226, 228, 229, 466.

Cibber, Theophilus, 260, 296, 441.

Cicero, 508.

Cleland, William, 244, 365, 368.

Collier, John Payne, 166, 167.

Collins, Anthony, 270.

Collins, Churton, 135, 563.

Concanen, Matthew, 178 n., 179,
269, 276, 305, 323, 375, 377 ; his
friendship with Warburton, 242,
351, 352; Pope's hostility to,
265-268; his • Speeulatist,' 280;
his ' Supplement to the Profund,'
268, 282.

Cooke, Thomas, 208, 263, 296,
378, 380, 435; his « Battle of the
Poets,' 1st ed., 276, 277, 287, 375;
2d ed., 279, 326, 375: 3d ed.,
280; his correspondence with
Pope, 275-280; his version of
Hesiod, 288, 289, 336 n.

Co vent Garden Theater, 17,
179.

Cowley, Abraham, 124, 125.

Coxeter, Thomas, 495.

Cromwell, Chronicle History of
Thomas, Lord, a play, 70, 116.

Curliad, The, 376.

Curll, Edmund, 234, 301, 355,
376, 380, 474, 477.

Cynthio, 555.
Cytiiereia, 300.

Davenant, Sir William, 42, 418.

Day, John, 20, 27.

Defoe, Daniel, 207, 260, 296.

Defoe, Norton, 261.

Dekker, Thomas, 9, 20, 21, 27, 39.

Delany, Patrick, 365.

Delap, John, 480.

Delius, Nikolaus, 166.

Dennis, John, 190, 208, 229, 243,
261, 286, 297, 305, 323, 375, 377,
378, 389 ; attacked by Theobald,
189 ; attacks Theobald, 131, 139 ;
praises Theobald, 136, 288; re-
marks on Pope, 238, 282, 349.

depart, 501.

D' Israeli, Isaac, 133.

Dob, publisher, 251-254.

Dod, publisher, 250-254.

Dodd, publisher, 229, 250.

Dodington, George Bubb, Lord
Melcombe, 147.

Dodsley, Robert, 410, 478; his
' Collection,' 468.

Donne, John, 411.

doth, plural, 61.

Double Falsehood, or the Dis-
trest Lovers, play ascribed to
Shakespeare, 146-152, 206, 215-
218, 299, 306, 414.

Downes, John, 149.

Drayton, Michael, 20, 21.

Drury Lane Theater, 126, 139,
140, 146, 149, 371.

Dryden, John, 233, 272, 356, 422,
496.

Duck, Stephen, 153.

Duckett, George, 207, 255.

Dulwich College, 11.

Dunton, John, 233.

Dyce, Alexander, 167.

Edward III, play, 51.
element, 333.

572

INDEX

English Traveller, Heywood's,

8, 28, 38, 39.
Epistle to the Little Satyrist

op Twickenham, An, 405.
Essay on the Art of a Poet's

Sinking in Reputation, 220.
Eusden, Laurence, 152, 291, 295,

388, 390.

Fair Constance op Rome, a play,
20.

Fair Em, a play, 115.

Fair Maid op the West, Iley-
wood's, 38.

Farmer, Richard, 151, 500, 549,
560.

Female Dunciad, The, 281.

Fenton, Elijah, 82, 99 »., 193, 199,
208, 209, 221, 276, 365, 382.

Ferrex and Pourex, a play, 27.

Fielding, Henry, 264, 272, 392,
405 »., 441 ; classed with dunces
by Swift, 283; his periodical
Essays, 5, G.

Filmer, Edward, his 'Unnatural
Brother/ 143.

Fletcher, John, 43, 552 ; his ra-
pidity of composition, 24.

Fog's Weekly Journal, 181.

Folkes, Martin, 341, '441.

Ford, John, 27, 38.

Gamelyn, The Tale of, 504.

Garbiok, David, 202.

Gat, John, 99 »., 202, 270, 417 ; his

' Three Hours after Marriage,'

324.

GERMENS, 91, 333.

Gksner, Conrad, 178.

(in ioui), William, 151,218.

GlLDOV, Charles, 73, 113, 271, 494,
510.

On ay, Thomas, 83.

GiUBBKY, Robert, 27, 44; his in-
difference to accuracy, 510.

Okifilv, Benjamin, 417.

Gkove, The, a Miscellany, 184.

Grur-street Journal, The, 267,
342, 383, 411, 412, 414, 410, 420,
425, 444, 447, 450, 456 ; its origin
and history, 384-407.

Guthrie, William, 400.

Halifax, Charles Montagu, earl
of, 183, 184.

Handel, George Frederick, 482.

Hanmer, Sir Thomas, 305, 546 ;
his edition of Shakespeare, 98,
111, 245, 518, 538, 558.

Harris, James, 193.

Harsnett, Samuel, 504.

Harte, Walter, 271, 387.

ii at it, plural, 61.

Hathway, Richard, 9, 10, 20, 27.

IIaughton, William, 27.

Hayley, William, 481.

Haywood, Mrs. Eliza, 243,275, 287.

Hearne, Thomas, 263, 296.

Heliodorus, his sEthiopica, 505.

Heming, John, and Henry Condell,
42, 48, 50, 55, 162.

Henley, John, 263.

Henryson, Robert, 504.

IIenslowh, Philip, account of,
12-14; his 'Diary,' 9, 10, 11, 14,
15, 16, 18, 20, 27, 30.

Heywood, Thomas, 28, 29, 30, 31,
35, 36, 38, 39, 44 ; his fertility of
production, 8, 21.

Hill, Aaron, 207, 270, 29G, 372,
470, 471 ; conducts the ' Promp-
ter/ 397, 405.

Histriomastix, Prynne's, 69.

Hoadley, Benjamin, 866.

Hogarth, William, 410, 441.

Hokack, 406.

Hurlothuumho, Samuel John-
son's, 186.

Hyp-Doctor, Henley's, 393.

IIounkck, Philip, 269.

Jacour, Giles, 323; his ' PDetittl
Register/ 12:: >,., 321.

JBBONIMO, a play, 502.

:>(.>

INDEX

Johnson, Charles, 264, 274 ; his
1 Sultaness/ 324.

Johnson, Samuel, author of Hurlo-
thrumbo,' 136.

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 5, 79, 81,
117, 193, 195, 262, 273, 373, 384,
532, 544; his disparagement of
Theobald, 545-550, 559; his
edition of Shakespeare,' 518, 538,
643, 558 ; his Macbeth, 540, 547 ;
his proposals for editing Shake-
speare, 547.

Johnson and Steeven's Shake-
speare, edition of 1773, 63, 500,
543, 559; edition of 1778, 500,
543, 551 ; edition of 1785, 559.

Jonson, Ben, 9, 20, 22, 23, 24, 33,
40, 41, 42, 44, 83, 118, 551.

Joiitin, John, 418.

King John, The Troublesome

lteign of, a play, 105.
Kynaston, The liev. Mr., 217.

Langtoft, Peter of, his ' Chroni-
cle,' 448.

LocitiNE, a play, 70.

London Prodigal, The, a play,
70.

Longinus, 423.

Lowth, Robert, 193.

Lyly, John, 22, 43, 553.

Lyttelton, George, Lord, 361.

Macaulay, Thomas Babington,

Lord, 404.
Mallet, David, 271 ; his ' Essay

on Verbal Criticism/ 350, 430-

437, 439, 443, 446-449, 457.
Malone, Edmund, 151, 173, 506,

526, 539, 559; his edition of

Shakespeare, 106, 172.
Markland, John, 301.
Marlowe, Christopher, 15, 27,

503, 506.
Marston, John, 41, 553.
Martial, 32.

Martyn, John, 392-394.

Mason, William, 480.

Massinger, Philip, 27, 38, 43,
149, 151, 218, 653.

Mead, Kichard, 441.

Memoirs op Grub-street, 393.

Meres, Francis, his Palladis
Tamia, 9, 46, 50.

Mestayer, Henry, 139, 144, 145.

Middleton, Thomas, 16, 21, 27.

Midland Dialect, The, 60.

Miller, James, 407 ; his ' Harle-
quin Horace/ 153, 271, 368, 413.

Milton, John, 62, 69, 467, 543;
Bentley's edilion of his ' Paradise
Lost/ 424-429, 431, 432.

Miscellaneous Observations
upon Authors, Ancient and
Modern, 418.

Miscellany on Taste, A, 416.

Mist, Nathanael, 180.

Mist's Journal, 81, 120 n., 128 ».,
179, 210, 214, 220-224, 378, 379,
381, 390; account of, 180-182;
Theobald's connection with, 182,
214, 306, 311, 311-314, 317, 325,
327, 337-339, 459 ; article in, by
W. A., 303-306, 308, 309, 310,
379.

Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley,
275, 441.

Moore or Moore-Smythe, James,
208, 255, 279, 288, 296, 305, 323,
336 n., 367, 372, 377, 379, 388,
409.

Moeley, 378.

Munday, Anthony, 20, 21.

neif, 90.

Newspaper, The, 6, 7, 17.

Nobp.es, Thomas, 27.

Northern Dialect, The, 60, 66,

90.
Novel, The, 6, 7, 17, 26, 37.

Oldcastle, Sir John, a play, 70,

116.
Oldmixon, John, 208, 243, 274.

574

INDEX

Orrery, Charles Boyle, fourth earl

of, 418, 423.
Orrery, John Boylo, fifth earl of,

418.
Otway, Thomas, 466.
Oxford, Edward liarley, second

earl of, 387.
Ozell, John, 229, 274, 323.

Pantomime, prevalence of, 140.
" Parallel, none but himself can

be his," 215-218.
Parnell, Thomas, 411.
Patient Grissil, a play, 30.
Pecke, Thomas, 42.
periapt, 91.

Periodical Essay, The, 5, 7.
Philips, Ambrose, 136, 153, 205,

207, 261, 262, 276, 278, 296.
Pindaric Odes, 124.
Plural present tense of verb
in -en, 61; in -s, 61-65; in -th,
60, 61.
Pope, Alexander, his

Correspondence, 474-476.
Dunciad, 133, 136, 145, 183,
199, 207, 209, 217, 220, 222,
295, 297, 304, 311, 312, 313,
339, 346, 352, 353, 363, 364,
365, 369, 389, 472; Dunciad
of 1728, 165, 169, 224-240, 307 ;
Key to same, 234, 380 ; Dun-
ciad of 1729, 137, 138, 241-257,
305, 308, 314, 323-325, 327,
328, 330, 331, 336, 337, 338,
345, 349, 368, 372, 376 ; Dun-
ciad of 1736, 80 ; Dunciad of
1743, 308, 310, 471 ; Dunciad
of 1749, 311.
Edition of Shakespeare, 79-
85, 93-98 ; follows Howe, 101,
JMbyJXQl. ', labor upon the text,
(lOO-lOjp labor upon the meter.
r08=TTl ; his preface/Tl£>»
rejection of spurious ptays,
LIS, 116; second edition <>f
Shakespeare, 315-321 ; obli-

gations to Theobald, 315-318,

631.
Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot,

183, 203, 301, 401, 406, 469,

472, 473, 478, 482.
Epistle on Taste, 415.
Essay on the Bathos or the

Profund, 203-209, 214, 238,

267, 286, 295, 300, 306, 352.
Essay on Man, 482.
Fragment of a Satire, 203,

300-302, 420.
Miscellanies, 202, 220, 235,

266, 267, 287, 296, 300, 304,

473.
Moral Essays, 382.
Pastorals, 205.
Rape of the Lock, 247 ; Key

to same, 247, 249.
Sober Advice from Horace,

409-411.
Translation of the Iliad, 77,

134, 190, 349.
Translation of the Odyssey,

192, 199, 208, 221, 329.
Travesty of the first psalm,

204, 354, 358.
Worms, poem of The, 205.
Popiad, The, 281.
Popple, William, 209, 397.
Prynne, William, 09.
Puritan, The, a play, 70.

Quin, James, 441.

Ralph, James, 263, 273, 274, 377 ;

his ' Sawney,' 282, 286.
Rankin, William, 27.
rekchy, 91, 333.
Rich, Christopher, 139.
Rich, John, 139, 140, 143, 146, 378.
Richardson, Jonathan, 435.
Richardson, Samuel, 441.
ROBBBTS, John, 165 H.
RocKiN<iii ah, Lewis Watson, first

earl of, 122.
ROOMS, Edward, 255, 269, 377,378.

57.

INDEX

Roscoe, William, 385.

Howe, Nicholas, 94, 107, 113, 120,
157, 178, 486, 491, 524; his edi-
tion of Shakespeare, 72, 73-76,
78, 81, 106, 171, 211, 484, 497,
509,615, 518; his text followed
by Pope, 88, 101, 196, 454, 455,
529.

Rowley, William, 105.

Ruffhead, Owen, 384.

Russel, editor of ■ Grub-street
Journal,' 393, 395-398, 405-408.

Russell, Dr. Richard, supposed
editor of ' Grub-street Journal,'
394.

Sagittary, The, 212.
Savage, Richard, 242, 260, 273,
276, 284, 365, 389 ; account of,
370-374; his relations with Pope,
374-378; his 'Bastard,' 373;
his ' Progress of a Divine,' 377 ;
his play of ' Sir Thomas Over-
bury,' 371.
Saviola, Vincentio, 504.
Saxo Grammaticus, 320, 505.
Sciilegel, August Wilhelm von,

116.
Second person singular in -s, 60.
secure, 173.
Sewell, George, 73.
Siiadwell, Thomas, 421.
Shakespeare, William, his
All's Well that Ends Well,

50, 96 n.
Antony and Cleopatra, 51,
75, 88, 96 n., 158, 319, 360, 361,
519.
As You Like It, 51, 96 n., 156,

496, 504, 506.
Comedy of Errors, 487, 505.
Coriolanus, 51, 101, 106, 158,

211, 356, 359, 360.
Cymbeline, 64, 360, 301, 509.
Hamlet, 47, 55, 57-59, 71, 74,
75, 91, 92, 102, 156, 158, 170,
171, 174, 185, 320, 360, 453,

570

501, 505, 509, 519, 520, 531,

558.
Julius Caesar, 51.
King Henry IV, Part I, 47, 89.
King Henry IV, Part II, 90,

503, 512.
King Henry V, 47, 98, 103, 161-

167, 300, 357, 360, 302.
King Henry VI, Part I, 75, 90,

488.
King Henry VI, Part II, 75,

195, 488, 507.
King Henry VI, Part III, 75,

96 n., 488.
Ktng Henry VIII, 96 n., 320.
King John, 105, 112, 500, 503.
King Richard II, 47, 454.
King Richard III, 47, 92, 117,

359.
Lear, 92, 102, 172, 182, 185, 357,

504.
Love's Labor 's Lost, 33, 319,

334, 487, 491, 496.
Love's Labor 's Won, 50.
Macbeth, 51, 96, 158, 159, 182,

359, 360, 546, 547.
Measure for Measure, 96 n.,

185, 333, 525-529.
Merchant of Venice, 62, 158,

219, 520.
Merry Wives of Windsor, 29,

95 »., 169, 320, 515, 516.
Midsummer Night's Dream, 90,

95 n.
Much Ado about Nothing, 85,

91, 521.
Othello, 104, 146, 185, 357, 517.
Pericles, 29, 45, 51, 70, 113, 487.
Rape of Lucrece, 185.
Romeo and Juliet, 36, 47, 55,

74, 103, 650.
Taming of the Shrew, 75, 104,

158, 502, 506.
Tempest, 51, 89, 94, 182, 210,

452, 455.
Timon of Athens, 53, 75, 210,

357, 501.

INDEX

Titus Andronicus, 33, 487.
Troilus and Cressida, 27, 29,

66, 75, 212, 504.
Twelfth Night, 51, 91, 156, 334,

504, 505, 542.
Two Gentlemen of Verona,

156.
Venus and Adonis, 44, 184.
Winter's Tale, 51, 487, 510.
Editions of plays in quarto,
54-56, 62, 71, 85, 94, 103,
106, 161, 169, 171, 498, 550.
Editions in folio, 498.
folio of 1623, 48, 50-54, 68,
71, 82, 85, 94, 162, 169,
320, 499.
folio of 1632, 63, 68, 85, 94,

169, 498.
folio of 1663-64, 70.
folio of 1685, 71.
Poems, edition of 1640, 72, 506.
Spelling Shakespear, the, 244.
Supplementary volume to edi-
tions of his works ; of 1710,
72,558; of 1714, 73; of 1725,
73 ; of 1728, 73.
For further editions, see under
Howe, Pope, Theobald, Han-
mer, Warburton, Johnson,
Johnson and Steevens, Ma-
lone, Steevens.
Shelton, Thomas, 150.
Sloane, Sir Hans, 441.
Smedley, Jonathan, 282.
Soliman and Perseda, a play, 503.
Southern Dialect, The, 60.
Spanish Tragedy, The, a play,

502.
Spelman, Sir Henry, his ' Glos-
sary,' 90.
Si>i;nck, Joseph, 192-194, 467.
iSi'KNSKR, Edmund, 61.
Staunton, Howard, 167.
Steele, Sir Richard, 5, 128, 261.
Stkiovens, George, 106, 173, 601,
606, 646, 660 668; his edition of
Shakespeare, 552, 559.
37 6

Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of,
504.

Swift, Jonathan, 5, 79, 93, 202,
204, 230, 231, 233, 255, 265, 266,
282, 283, 305, 366, 418, 477.

Taming of a Shrew, The, a play,

104, 111.
Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 462.
Thackeray, William Makepeace,

481.
Theobald, Lewis, his

Caye of Poverty, 183-186.

Censor, 128, 186, 188.

Death of Hannibal, 142.

Fatal Secret, 142, 313.

Letter to ' Daily Journal,' Sep-
tember 23, 1726, 177; to the
same, November 26, 1728, 316-
321, 330, 331, 332-335; to the
same, April 17, 1729, 328-330,
332, 416.

Letters to ' Grub-street Jour-
nal,' 450.

Letter in ' Mist's Journal,'
March 16, 1728, 210-221, 338 ;
to the same, April 27, 1728,
214-217, 219, 220, 306-311 ; to
the same, June 22, 1728, 311-
314, 325.

Mausoleum, 188.

Orestes, 182, 183, 313, 417.

Orpheus and Eurydice, 141.

Perfidious Brother, 143-145.

Persian Princess, 126.

Pindaric Ode, 124.

Rape of Proserpine, 140.

Richard II, adapted from
Shakespeare, 141.

SllAKESI'KAUK ReSTOKED, 136,

164, 165-176, 176, 177, 187,
191, 194-197, 200-202, 290,
209, 301, 306, 309, 310, 325,
329,378,430,498,631.
edition of Shakespeare's plays,

840 846, ISO, 488 44 8, 168,

483, 489; date of public*

INDEX

tion, 444 ; its reception, 444-
452 ; adaptations from Pope
in, 111-113, 523-529 ; errors
in, 517-521 ; criticism of
Pope in, 452-456, 535-538.

proposed edition of Shake-
speare's Poems, 557 ; correc-
tions of, 418.

proposed ' Remarks on Shake-
speare/ 298-300, 311, 322,
330.

edition of Wycherley's Post-
humous Works, 378, 413,
475.

proposed translation of iEschy-
lus, 130, 135-138, 139, 190,
342 ; of Horace, 131 ; of the
Odyssey, 130, 132, 133, 134 ;
of four tragedies of Sopho-
cles, 131.

his translation of Aristophanes'
Plutus and the Clouds, 131,
135; of the Metamorphoses
of Ovid, 131, 132; of Plato's
Phaedo, 130 ; of three plays
of Sophocles ; of passages
from Musaeus and Theo-
critus, 135.

his emendation of approof for
proof, 520; of array for cat
away, 333 ; of a babbled for
a table, 161-168 ; of bawds for
bonds, 158 ; of beatified
for beautified, 520 ; of canon
for cannon, 509 ; of Cato for
Calves, 211 ; of in compt for
in. Come, 211; of curl by
for cool my, 334, 542; of
fortress for fortune, 319, 320 ;
of gilded ior guided, 169, 320;
of itivention. Imitari for in-
vention imitary, 335 ; of knot
for guat, 518 ; of lackey-
ing for lacking, 158; of latten
for Latin, 516 ; of let e'en
for beteen, 172 ; of ne'er lust-
wearied for near lust-wearied,

158 ; of os prey for asprey,
178 ; of page for rage, 158 ;
of prate for pray, 158 ; of
scotch for scorch, 158, 159;
of smithy for stithy, 520 ; of
senior-junior for signior Junios,
334; of thill-horse for fill-
horse, 520; of third-borough
for headborough, 158.
his explanation of excrements,
531 ; of intermission, 220 ; of
Sagittary, 212 ; of unaneled,
558.
his asserted poverty, 129, 553.
his assumed lack of taste, 484-

488.
catalogue of his library, 552-

555.
learning, 346, 601-507, 515,
555-557.
Third person present singular in

-s and in -th.
Thompson, Rev. William, 480.
Tickell, Thomas, 276, 300.
Tieck, Ludwig, 114.
Tindal, Matthew, 270, 400.
Toland, John, 270.
Tottel's Miscellany, 504.
Todrnedr, Cyril, 27.
Turner, William, 178.
Two Noble Kinsmen, The, a

play, 61.
Universal Spectator, The,
348 n.

Upton, John, 441.

Urry, John, his Chaucer, 504.

Valteger, a play, 14.
Voltaire, Francois Marie Arouet
de, 248-250, 402.

Walpole, Sir Robert, 153, 242,

269, 303, 313, 369.
Warburton, John, ' Somerset

Herald,' 27, 149.

578

INDEX

Warburton, William, 93, 98, 111,
118, 166, 168, 171, 268, 363, 380,
504, 505, 545, 546; his corre-
spondence with Theobald, 123,
242, 255, 269, 296, 325, 327, 340,
489, 496, 500, 534, 536, 554, 555 ;
his attacks on Theobald, 178, 311,
508, 532, 544, 548; Theobald's
admiration for, 492, 510 ; harm
wrought by him to Theobald's
edition, 521-523 ; his articles
attacking Pope, 351-362; his
emendations of Shakespeare,
359-361 ; his edition of Shake-
speare, 245, 538, 558 ; his appro-
priations from Theobald, 542-
544.

Ward, Edward, 207, 243, 255, 263,
282, 323.

Warton, Joseph, 192, 216, 268,
385, 411, 562.

Watts, Isaac, 292.

Webster, John, 17, 21, 23, 32,

142.
Weekly Oracle or Universal

Library, The, 485.
Welsted, Leonard, 207, 243, 255,

263, 276, 278, 296, 323, 324, 367,

379, 388, 409, 412, 483.
Wesley, Samuel, 292.
Wharton, Philip Wharton, Duke

of, 181.
Whitehead, Paul, 271, 369.
Wilks, Robert, 126.
Woolston, Thomas, 270, 380, 458.
Wycherley, William, 378, 413,

475.
Wynkin de Worde, 213, 347.

Yorkshire Tragedy, A, 70, 116,

378.
Young, Edward, 276, 366, 441.

579

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