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 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE
 
 I 
 
 SHAKESPEARE AS A DRAMATIC ARTIST 
 Already- Ptiblished 
 
 II 
 
 SHAKESPEARE AND VOLTAIRE 
 
 Already PnhHshed 
 
 III 
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE
 
 THE FIRST EDITORS 
 
 OF 
 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 (POPE AND THEOBALD) 
 
 THE STORY OF THE FIRST SHAKESPEARIAN 
 
 CONTROVERSY AND OF THE EARLIEST 
 
 ATTEMPT AT ESTABLISHING A 
 
 CRITICAL TEXT OF 
 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS R. LOUNSBURY, L.H.D., LL.D. 
 
 Professoy of English in Yale University 
 
 LONDON 
 DAVID NUTT 
 
 57-59 LONG ACRE 
 1906
 
 3 071 
 
 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Paob 
 
 I. TiikDuamatic 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 ... 67 
 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 13D 
 
 IX. Shakespeare Restored 155 
 
 ' X. Theobald's Attitude towards Pope . . . . ■<LZ6. 
 
 XI. Pope's Preliminary Attack 198 
 
 XII. The Original 'Dunciad' 22') 
 
 Xril. '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 340 
 
 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 
 
 Index 569 
 
 176'-153
 
 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
 
 t3 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 to its presumed primitive integrity engaged from an 
 early period tlic attention of a constantly increasing 
 number of men interested in the writings of tlie 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 
 granunar 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. ISTothing 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
 
 PRE FA CE 
 
 to the earlier controversies wliicli sprang up. It makes 
 tlic discussion of the text of Shakespeare to some extent 
 a part of the literary history of the eighteenth century, 
 as it has never been that of any period since. 
 
 JSTo 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 wars the knowledge of the whole subject 
 has been perceptibly ad\'anced. JSTever lias 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 diiferences between these rival editors that / 
 opened the era of controversy which has continued \\i\\\ 
 little cessation to our oavu 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- 
 trovers}^ 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 comprehension uf the matters upon which they 
 
 ix
 
 PRE FA CE 
 
 touch; for wliile 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 
 y-snccessors. 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 maligTiing 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 j^ublic who are not 
 
 X
 
 PREFACE 
 
 sufficiently educated in this matter to know tlic 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 centiiry 
 which seem far removed from any questions connected 
 wdtli the text of Shakespeare. It requires in particular 
 a full discussion of several productions which exerted 
 marked influence in causinir the estimate to be taken 
 of Theobald that came to prevail. Of these the first 
 and far the most efl'cctive was ^ The Dunciad.' This 
 satire was a Shakespearean document pure and simple. 
 Furthermore, it is the greatest work in English litera- 
 ture to Avliich 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 1713 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 
 
 xi
 
 PREFACE 
 
 omission or alteratiou of lines referring to the original 
 hero, or their ap})lieation to some one else. More than 
 that, it swept out of existence all the notes bearing 
 directly or remotely upon the proper method of editing 
 the text of Shakespeare. 
 
 The resnlt is that men have come to forget that ' The 
 Dnnciad ' 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 Shakesj)eare 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 flourish still 
 in their original vitality. 
 
 Many of these misrepresentations of the original hero 
 have now become so hoary ^\'ith 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. ISTone 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
 
 PRE FA CE 
 
 speare. Yet we find in the preface to that work a state- 
 ment about him to the effect that he was " in the hahit 
 of communicating notes on passages of Shakespeare to 
 ' 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 ara})le 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 
 ' 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 tlie erroneous statements are exposed wliich 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 ho 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- 
 Inrly 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 o^\^l 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 ' Duncind ' was primarily designed to 
 
 xiv
 
 PREFACE 
 
 attack the critic of Pope's edition of Shakespeare and 
 to turn into ridicule tlie 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 w^as to disen- 
 o-ao-c it from these with which it had become associated 
 and intermixed. Cut 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 atli- 
 tndc 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 riva;l 
 editor Avonld 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 Avhich he was a participant, 
 so far as the Shakespearean quarrel had any connection 
 with them at all. The enforced change of plan has not 
 merely delayed the publication of the present volume, 
 
 XV
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Lilt has rciulcred it necessary to defer to a future one 
 an account of the Later controversies aLout 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 Lc 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 Avitli 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 Loen 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 
 kno"u^l 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 tho means of securing the 
 precise form of the sentences which Pope misquoted or 
 garbled to serve his own ends, of ex2)osing the ingenuity 
 of his disingenuousness, and of l)ringing 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. ISTor could some of 
 the newspaper organs, in which discussion was carried 
 on, be o^^erlooked. In particular I have devoted a 
 whole chapter to the history of Pope's personal organ, 
 the ' Grub-street Journal.' This pul)lication 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 biograi:)hies 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 tho bibliography of ' The Dunciad ' the examina- 
 tion of the periodical literature of the period has con- 
 tributed some further aid. The new facts adduced 
 
 XV ii
 
 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 jDublication 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 dununies 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 ' 
 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 apjiears as a book- 
 seller with a shop in the neighborhood of Temple Bar. 
 
 Of some interest, if not of importance in Shakespear- 
 ean controversy, Avas one discovery which, though much 
 longed for, came to me, after all, unexpectedly, Avhile 
 
 wading through this apparently interminable bog of 
 
 xviii
 
 PREFA CE 
 
 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 cliapter. 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 sho^vn 
 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 Avitli the precise truth ; 
 
 XX
 
 PRE FA CE 
 
 or to dniw uiij infcrunccs or to make uny assertions 
 which were not supported by reasonable and even con- 
 vincing proofs. This has been j)artieularly my aim in 
 the case of those statements which conflict Avith vieAVS 
 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 Avho 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 Avorld 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 Avhom 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. 
 
 XXII
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEAEE 
 
 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 ? Tliese 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. 
 1 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 \vould for all practical purposes have been 
 settled for us Ihially. We might llnd 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 
 conMence 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 tlie necessary impudence to alter. Shakes- 
 peare would accordingly stiind 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 writincrs 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 
 
 01
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARIl'S TIME 
 
 position a.s do thu ;uillior,s ulio ilourislu'd in (lir ;i^c of 
 manuscript. There is tlic same uiu-eilitinty as tu his 
 text whieli exists in reLj^ard to theirs. In his ease as in 
 theirs the same necessity is found for emendation and 
 revision. In liiin as in them occur corrupt [uissaycs in 
 which the liard task is hud upon human inc^enuity, not 
 to extract a meaninj^ from them, but to put a meaning 
 into tliem. Hence tlie subject of the text of Shake- 
 speare, while strictly not exciting in itself, has become 
 the subject of excited controversy. For this fact tlicre 
 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 thinofs. 
 How happened it that the works of the greatest dram- 
 atist in our literature should seemingly have attracted 
 so little liis attention and regard that a complete col- 
 lection of them never appeared during his lifetime? 
 He w^as particular in setting forth accurately his 
 two principal poems. Why did lie 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 llicse, few w^ould be found to 
 maintain as indisputable that tliey had ever been 
 subjected to his supervision. Not one of them but 
 
 3
 
 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 })laywrights 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 iDCCuliar to Shakespeare 
 was in reality common; much that seems strange in 
 his attitude towards his own dramatic works will be 
 found to be tlie 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 
 
 4
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 certain to bo directed. An ilkistratit)ii ov 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, whicli 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 tliis 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 wliicli 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 ' The Champion,' in ' The True 
 Pati'iot,' in ' The Jacobite Journal,' and in ' The Covent 
 Garden Journal ' ? Many of them abounded in the 
 
 5
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 keenest wit and satire. Yet few even of the liiglily 
 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 lind 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 Avrites 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 
 Avretched pay Avhich often attend it, more an object 
 
 6
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TTME 
 
 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 whicli they belonged, that 
 writing for the stage was something not consonant with 
 the dignity of their order. " The Earl of Derby," said, 
 
 7
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 as if slightingly, a letter-writer in 1598, " is busy pen- 
 ning comedies for the comruon 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 pla}"- of ' The English Traveller,' published 
 in 1633, speaks of that tragi-comedy as one "reserved 
 amongst two liundred and twenty," in whicli he had had 
 "the entire hand or at least a main finger." He was at 
 that time in the full vigor of liis powers. As the date 
 given is nine years before tlie closing of the theaters, 
 there is little doubt that this number would be swelled 
 
 1 State Papers, Domestic Series, 1 598-1 GOl, p. 227. Letter of George 
 Fenner to Humphrey Galdelli. 
 
 8
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 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 
 160*2, 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 majority of the 
 plays produced during the Elizabethan period have per- 
 ished. In 1598 Francis Meres, in his literary drag-net 
 called Falladis Tamia, tells us that both Henry Chettle 
 and Richard Hathway were then reckoned as among the 
 best writers for comedy, and Ben Jonson one of the best 
 for tragedy. Tlie 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 hinidred and twenty new 
 pieces. It is an understatement to say that above two- 
 
 9
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 thirds of these have dis.appeared. When we come to 
 individual writers the facts are even more impressive. 
 Between the hitter part of 1597 and the middle of 
 March, 1G03, 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. Ilathway'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 froui that period. Of Henslow^e 
 himself it is sufficient to say that he was a man engaged 
 in various occupations who became largely interested in 
 
 10
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 the manasrement and construction oi' tlieaters. He was 
 doubtless led to take an increasing share in these enter- 
 prises by tlie 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 particvdar 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 lie 
 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. Tlic 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 the work was originally 
 written, and more imperfect as it is in the form in which 
 it now exists, its apparently dreary collection of names 
 
 11
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 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 penui-ious. 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 
 
 12
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 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 tlie 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 
 e3'e 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 were made at 
 the instance of the actors themselves. There is accord- 
 ingly every reason to beheve that the bargain had been 
 effected by them originally ; that it was they who had 
 agreed wdth the author upon the price, and that it 
 was through them the money was transmitted. If the 
 
 13
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 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. ^Ve are therefore fully justilied in accepting 
 the conclusions which can be drawn fiom 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. 
 Tlie first is that at that period plays had no run, in the 
 modern sense of the word. Tliis involves a efood deal 
 more than might be supposed at the first glance. The 
 examination of Henslowe's ' Diary ' shows that there are 
 but two instances where tlie 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. Wlien 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 montli. In nearly a fourth of the plays 
 recorded by Henslowe, the interval was shortei', not ex- 
 tending beyond three or four days ; and one of them, 
 styled ' Valteger,' produced December 4, 1596, achieved 
 the distinction of being performed the day following. 
 Whatever was tlie reason for tliis 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 
 
 14
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 one entitUul ' Alcxaiidur aiid Lodowick,' wliicli was ackd 
 on the lltli and 12th ot Kebruaiy, 1507. These Aveve 
 its second and thiid representations, it having been 
 lirst bronght out the fourteenth day of the preceding 
 Januiiry. 
 
 A fairly correct estimate of the general situation at that 
 time may be gained, by bringing into one view tlie facts 
 furnished by Henslowe's Diary in regard to the repre- 
 sentation of three of Marlowe's plays during tlie 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- 
 elty 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 \Aixy. Henslowe's ac- 
 count extends over about nine and a half months of 
 1591: ; a little less tlian nine months of 1595; and a 
 little less than seven months of 1590. 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 ' Avas acted fifteen times ; in 1595 not once, 
 and in 159G eiolit times. 'Doctor Faustus' is men- 
 tioned as first performed during this period in 1594, 
 on the 30th 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. 
 ' Tamburlaine,' a play then at least seven years old, 
 was brought out again in 1594, on the 28th of August. 
 
 15
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 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 centur}^ 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 Avas 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 
 
 16
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 had been acted for nine successive days was at that 
 time the very strongest sort of evidence to the reader 
 that it had been extraoitiinarily 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.^ 
 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. 
 2 17
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 in consequence of the relation in wliicli tliey 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 tlie 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 tlie time. 
 The intervals in which no performances took place em- 
 braced about twenty weeks of the two years. During 
 this period tliere were thirty-six new pieces brought out. 
 Consequently a little more tlian 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 fourtli and the thirtieth of 
 December, 1596, Henslowe records the production of 
 four new j)ieces, 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- 
 liood. 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 
 
 18
 
 rilE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE-S TIME 
 
 sometimes doubtless before they bad contributed a line. 
 But besides Uiese, pressed steadily ou 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 v/ith 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, Avrites 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 
 
 19
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 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 througli 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. Henslo we'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, Hathway, 
 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. 
 
 20
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 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 havinof 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, sliow that his rate, if not 
 his amount of production, was by no means unexampled. 
 
 21
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Excessive production necessarily implies luiste in com- 
 position. The latter was characteristic of the period. 
 Lyly portra\'ed 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 tlie same moment they are laid bear birds." ^ 
 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 
 liis works. Tlie 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 
 Avas 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 talcen 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.' 
 
 99
 
 THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
 
 temporaries, could not free hiniseli" altogether from tlie 
 influence of the sentiment prevailing in his day. In the 
 prologue to ' Volpone,' brought out in 1G05, 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 live 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 liis pref- 
 ace to ' The White Devd,' " I was a long time in finish- 
 ing this tragedy, I confess I do m^t write witli 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 
 
 23
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 first folio of Sliakespeare's dramatic worlds in regard to 
 his swiftness of production. "• His mind and hand went 
 together,'' say they, " and what he thought, he uttered 
 witli 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 
 tlie 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, Avhsitsoever 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 tlie 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 
 1G47. " Whatever I have seen of Mr. Fletcher's own 
 hand," he wrote, " is free from interlining ; and his 
 friends affirm he never wiit 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 
 
 24
 
 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 
 lield. 
 
 25
 
 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 Avell as scanty. 
 Nor can we satisfactorily free ourselves from tlie con- 
 viction that destruction has taken place on a grand 
 scale by seeking refuge in the boundless possibilities of 
 what may liave 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- 
 tliing has vanished but the title. All such assumptions, 
 where evidence is wanting, are worthless. In the search 
 for material, in whicli 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 tliat at tinies tliey should 
 strike, intentionally or unintentionally, not merel}^ npon 
 
 26
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 siihjceLs near allied, but even upon llic very same 
 subjects. I lenslowe'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 1001 Henslowe had brouglit out a play with 
 that title, written by Hathway 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 ^ 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 eitlier 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 list in the 'Gentleman's Magazine,' vol. Ixxxv. pp. 217-222, 
 of part ii., September, 1815 ; also p. 424. 
 
 27
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ture has suffered an}^ 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 
 ©ven 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 luive written and the few of his which have 
 come do\vn. 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 tlie 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 liave been negligently lost ; others of them 
 are still retained in the hands of some actors who think 
 
 28
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT^ 
 
 it against tlieir peculiar profit to have them come in 
 print; and a tliird that it was never any great ambition 
 in nie in tliis kind to be voluminonsly read." 
 
 In tlie 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 
 Ileywood flourished. But tlie 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 feeUng might 
 have fairly been inferred from tlie sudden cessation 
 which took place after IGOO of the previously rapid 
 publication of Shakespeare's productions. In that one 
 year appeared six of liis 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 tlieir pecu- 
 niary value. 
 
 There is more direct testimony. Disregarding two 
 plays of Shakespeare which were early entered for 
 publication but Avere never published until 1623, the 
 circumstances connected with the appearance of ' Troi- 
 lus and Cressida ' supply what may be deemed convinc- 
 
 29
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ing evidence upon tliis very [xjint. 'JMi;i.t piece was 
 entered in February, 1G03, on the registers of tlie 
 Stationers' Company by James Roberts. But a signifi- 
 cant qualification was added. It was to be printed by 
 Mm "when he hath gotten sufficient authority for it." 
 Apparently this sufficient autliority 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 tlie lofty estimate 
 in which Sliakespeare's productions Avere then held and 
 for the prophecy, now essentially fulfilled, tliat wlien he 
 was gone and his plays were out of sale, tliere 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 liad it been left to " the 
 grand possessors' wills" men sliould 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 inunoral act, if indeed it 
 could not be deemed an illegal one. Ileywood is the 
 dramatic writer of that period who in questions bearing 
 
 30
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 upon the theatrical situation gives us tlie fullest infor- 
 mation as to the feelings and practices then prevalent. 
 His 'liape of Lucrece ' first appeared in print in 1601). 
 In the address to tlie reader prefixed to that tragedy he 
 censured those who liad, 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 tliat 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. Tlie 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 
 
 31
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 acted. With that all reason for the perpetuation of their 
 existence ended, lie 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 higlier objects, scorned to com- 
 pose plays. Yet in the dedication of this very comedy 
 to Sir Thomas Walsingham he says himself that lie is 
 most loath to pass the sight of his friend " with any 
 sucli liglit 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 publisliing it 
 he half apologized by saying that he claimed for him- 
 self merely the liberty wliich others before him had 
 taken. " Not tliat I affect praise for it," he continued. 
 He further conformed to a general sentiment, in which 
 lie did not at heart share, by applying to works of tlie 
 kind he was producing the words of Martial, Nos haec 
 novimus esse nihil. 
 
 The significance of sucli declarations as the foregoing 
 cannot l)e mistaken. No better evidence can well be 
 offered as to the little regard witli which the most pop- 
 ular authors of the time looked upon their own dramatic 
 productions. They are precisely of the kind which the 
 
 32
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 editor of a newspaper at the [)resent day might make, 
 when contrasting his regular daily articles, which had 
 served tlieir immediate purpose and to which he would 
 attach no furtlier 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 
 ' 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 pubhshers 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 
 
 q OQ
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 universality of indifference to the fate of tlieir pieces 
 either the vanity or the just self-appreciation of in- 
 dividual writers could be trusted to militate, as well 
 as tlie 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,' wliich appeared in 1612, 
 said, and unquestionably said truly, that many desired to 
 see it printed. Tins 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 tlie 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 wlio 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 
 
 34
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 the press. Tliey were taken down in tlie imperfect 
 shorthand of the period. They ^\■cre seL forth to sale 
 so full of blunders and ahsurd 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 wliat 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 fmd saddled upon him a 
 play of Ins 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- 
 
 35
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ence was due, he tells us, to the success the piece met 
 with on its original representation. This was so great 
 
 " that some by stenogniphy 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 
 Ilath tuok the pains upriglit upon its feet 
 To teach it walk.'' 
 
 Reasons of a similar sort he gave for printing 'The 
 Ilape of Lucrece.' "Some of my plays," he wrote, 
 " 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, tliat 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 
 
 36
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 tlie passing moment. This view, largely licld, 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 sixteentli 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 ' 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 plaj^s they published there is not unfrequently an 
 apologetic tone, as if it were ratlier 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 sliglitly re- 
 garded. They were wont to hold up the jjractice 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 
 
 37 
 
 '« *^r^.t nn
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 commonly cited. Tlieir willingness to receive into favor 
 pieces of tliis cliaracter was the bulwark behind which 
 the playwright was ordinarily disposed to shield liimself. 
 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 Sdcgnii, II 
 Fentamento Amorose, Caliathe, 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 tlie dedications 
 prefixed respectively to Massinger's 'Duke of Milan,' 
 pi-inted in 1623, and in his 'New Way to Pay Old 
 Debts,' printed in 1632; in those prefixed to Hey wood's 
 ' 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 
 
 38
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRTGHTS 
 
 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 ph\y-book into your hands being a courtier. 
 Roman poets did so to their emperors, the Spanish no^y 
 to their grandees, the Italians to their illustrissimos, and 
 our own nation to the great ones." Upon modern ears 
 the deprecatory state of mind tlius indicated will make 
 the greatest impression in the dedication of the Shake- 
 speare folio of 1(323 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 o-reat 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 Ileywood's address to the 
 reader which has been quoted, it is noticeable that he 
 makes a somewhat disparaging reference to the fact that 
 the plays of others had been collected and brought out in 
 volumes.! 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. 
 39
 
 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 wliich had then come out. " Virtuous reader," 
 he remarks, " my plays have not been exposed to the 
 public view of tlie 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 as^ainst Avhom 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 Avas 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 liis eyes the writings of the 
 poets were, to use his own language, " the fountains and 
 
 40
 
 ATTITUDE OF TIIK PLAYWRICUTS 
 
 first springs of wisdom." In season and ont of season, 
 ho lost no opportunity to assert their claims to the high- 
 est reco^i-nition. 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 tlie lirst collected edi- 
 tion of his writings, consisting mainly of dramas, bore 
 the title of ' Works.' It appeared in 161G. 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. Wilham Shakespeare's Com- 
 edies Histories and Tragedies,' though on one of the inner 
 title-pages, removed from general attention, ' The Works 
 of Shakespeare ' is put down in addition. ' Works ' was 
 prefixed for a purpose to tlie Marston volume of 1683 ; 
 but the Beaumont and Fletclier 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 tlie minds of men 
 
 41
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 to the extreme position that trifles so slight in character 
 should receive so dignified a name. As late as 1G59, 
 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 liad not been the general 
 opinion. By the majority the title of ' Works ' was re- 
 garded as a presumptuous application of the word to 
 things wliich were simply designed to live their little 
 day and then be forgotten. 
 
 Jonson had defied not merely public opinion, but the 
 opinion of tlie 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 Bihliograplicr, vol. ii. p. 312. 
 
 ■ 42
 
 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. Nothing more will be attempted here than to 
 
 43
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 state as briefly and as fairly as possible tlie 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 liardly 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 liis '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 
 
 44
 
 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 
 o-entleman. 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 
 wliat 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- 
 
 45
 
 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 tlie learned, appealed never- 
 theless most potently to the taste of botli 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 whicli 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 nuich 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 wliich bibliography records 
 are indeed well worth consideration. The age 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 eisrht in number. It is noticeable that 
 while Italian, French, and Spanish are specified, English 
 
 46
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 is not included. The population of the kingdom too 
 was then far fiom large, nor was education widely dif- 
 fused. There was in consequence, as contrasted with 
 our own times, a very limited number of persons to I'cad 
 anything; of this limited class, there ^^'as then, as al\va3S, 
 a comparatively insignificant number to read poetry. 
 Yet before his death Shakespeare had seen his play of 
 ' Richard IT.,' tirst printed in 1597, pass through four edi- 
 tions ; his play of ' Richard III.,' 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 IGOO and IGOS inclusive the pirated copy of 
 ' Henry V.,' went tlirough three editions. Three and pos- 
 sibly four were also the number of impressions of ' Romeo 
 aud 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 1G():), 
 that play by 1611 had passed through four editions and 
 possibly five. Tliis 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 
 
 47
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 have been due to the consideration he entertained for 
 the feehngs of others than to any disparaging opinion he 
 held of the value of his dramatic productions or to indif- 
 ference to tlieir fate. As an actor he might naturally 
 sympathize witli the views about publication of the men 
 of his profession, and lie would be sure to respect what 
 they deemed their rights. So long, therefore, as his asso- 
 ciates regarded tlie printing of plaj^s as being, in Hey- 
 wood's 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 
 agaiust 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 
 Condcll that lie 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 tlie executor to 
 his own writings." In the address to the readers they 
 confess that it wei'c worthy to liave been wished that the 
 author had lived to oversee his own productions, and 
 tliat 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 
 
 48
 
 ATTITUDE OF THE PLAYWRIGHTS 
 
 impaired the correctness of nearly all the productions of 
 tlie 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 
 throufrhout with o-reat 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. 
 
 49
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 DIFFERENCES OF THE EAELY 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 liave 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 linds 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 
 
 do
 
 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 1023 ; and included 
 in the list of those then first published are such trage- 
 dies as ' Julius Cfesar,' ' Antony and Cleopatra,' ' Corio- 
 lanus,' and ' JNlacbeth,' and such comedies as ' Twelfth 
 Night; '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 Avhich 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 IIL' and 
 ' 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 y 
 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- 
 
 51
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 lessly printed, in an age where careful printing was a 
 duty not often taken very seriously. 
 
 Were 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 tliere 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 A\ho seem to 
 look upon the particular punctuation they employ as 
 being somehow divinely inspired. Commas tuiii u|) in 
 the folio of 1G23 in the most unexpected and surprising 
 places. They appear to have been regarded as a general 
 representative of all the otlier points ; for they not un- 
 frequently do duty for colons, semicolons, and periods. 
 Moreover, while tliey often appear in places where they 
 have no business wliatevcr 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 tlie 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 
 
 52
 
 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS 
 
 not unfreqiient 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 thu 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 tlie 
 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 liuman 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 riu'ht readincr will continue unsettled. The most 
 famous single instance is perhaps the crux in 'Timon,' 
 where the hero says to his servant, as tlie words appear 
 ill the original and only authority, — 
 
 " Go, bid all my Friends againe,^ 
 Lucius, LucuUu.s, and Seinprouius Vllorxa : All."' 
 
 The chances are that thi; incomprehensible "Vllorxa" 
 will furnish a subject for difference of opinion during all 
 future time, as it has already in the })ast. 
 
 Here, then, we encounter the lirst 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 su[)ervision and ^vith no adequate 
 proof-reading. It contains words that liave never been^ 
 
 1 Act iii., sceue 4. 
 
 63
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 known to exist, and words used in senses tliey 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 tlie 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. Fi fteen of these thirty-six plays had 
 been published separately in quarto form before tET 
 ' 54
 
 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARfA' TEXTS 
 
 appearance of the folio of 162o. 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 
 ' 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 
 
 55
 
 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 
 otlier 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 tlie 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 tliese early authorities are 
 susceptible of easy explanation in the situation which 
 then prevailed. The text printed Vv'ould be taken from 
 play-house copies. Betw^een 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, miglit 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 wliich 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 
 
 56
 
 DIFFERENCES OF THE EAUT.Y TEXTS 
 
 circumstances arose to suggest new allusions or appeal to 
 new emotions. Otlier 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 
 ail}" 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 arc in tlie same 
 situation as when dealing with the works of an ancient 
 autlior of which several manuscripts exist, agreeing in 
 the main but often differing widely in details. We can 
 thereby get a glimpse of tlie natui-e 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 tj pe-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 pett}^ 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 ' I Tam let.'' Be- 
 fore that pla}^ appeared in the folio of 1623, it was printed 
 singly in qua rto form in 1603, in 1G04 , in 1605, and in 
 
 57
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 IGll. In the folios a well-known speech of Hamlet 
 reads as follows : 
 
 " 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 i/our? 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- 
 
 58
 
 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- 
 hshed 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 tlie siofuifications 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. Th eir poor opinion of his qualifica- 
 tions is not of consequence ; b ut when the result of 
 it causes disturbance of the text, it matters a g ood 
 deal. To show how variations of reading arise from 
 tEisignorance, and how lines of linguistic investigation 
 
 59
 
 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 tlie East Midland — and in 
 this instance of the Southern also — had in the third 
 person singular of tlie present tense of the verl^ the 
 termination -fh. On the other liand, in the dialect of 
 the Nortli, tliis person ended in -s. Hence, in one 
 part of the country men said " he doth," in another 
 "he does." Wy tlie end of the sixteenth century the 
 latter termination liad been so successful in encroaching 
 upon the one wliioli 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 cither indifferently. But 
 since his day, the Northern form in -s has practically 
 supplanted the Midland form in -fh, 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 
 
 60
 
 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 -tit in the dialect of the South and -s in the dialect 
 of the North. Both existed in tlie literature of Shake- 
 speare's time, but onl}' on a comparatively limitod scale. 
 The Southern plural in -ili liad but little recognition, 
 though it survived in sporadic instances to a late period 
 in the literature of the seventeenth century. The use 
 of it liy Shakespeare and his contemporaries, so far as it 
 was used at all, was mainly confined to the words hatli 
 and doth. The northern plural in -s was, ]io\\'cver, dis- 
 tinctly more common. Especially was tliis 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 duo to the fact that in modern editions of our 
 earlier writers it has been reformed, wherever possible, 
 out of the text, and replaced by the present grammatical 
 terminations. In the Elizabethan period the ending may 
 be said to have been makinsf a strusf^'le for establishment 
 and general acceptance. But the fight was a losing one. 
 No 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- 
 
 61
 
 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 j\Iilton,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 \)Q 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 
 IGOO, and the foho of 1623 : 
 
 " O father Abram, what these Christians are, 
 Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect 
 The thoughts of others." ^ 
 
 * Act i., scene 3. 
 
 G2
 
 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS 
 
 Even at that early date teaches was apparently too much 
 for the uukno\\ii corrector A\'ho made the alterations 
 found in the folio of 1G32. The meter, however, required 
 a Avord of two syllables. So to bring about a more satis- 
 factory condition of things, dealings was carefully changed 
 into dealing, to the assumed beneht 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 hard 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 was 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 lind 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. By the connivance or indifference of proof- 
 readers this was permitted to remain. Successive edi- 
 tions perpetuated the original blunder. It is asking 
 
 68
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 rather too much of human creduhty to accept the view- 
 that errors of tliis hind should not only be constantly 
 perpetrated hut 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 tlie grammatical usages 
 of their own time than later commentators. There is 
 no object indeed in retaining, when unnecessarj^ 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 Avith- 
 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 heaven's gate sings, 
 And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
 His steeds to water at those spi'ings 
 On chaliced flowers that lies." ^ 
 
 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., sceue 3. 
 
 64
 
 DIFFERENCES OF THE EARLY TEXTS 
 
 one of two courses lay open, Shakespeare was either \ 
 ignorant of oTannnar or defiant of it. llis 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 grannnar. 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 tlie 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 conveyed as upon the difference of 
 5 Q5
 
 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, — 
 
 " The welcome ever smiles, 
 And farewells goes out sighing.'' ^ 
 
 In the quarto edition of the same \}[sky 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 
 tlie 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. 
 
 m
 
 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 Avliich 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 fii"st pre- 
 
 67
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 vailed elements of controversy existed in abnndance 
 which wonld be sure in time to o;ive birth to contro- 
 versy itself. That in turn would be fomented by the 
 general ignorance which was then found even among 
 the highl}^ educated of matters which are now perfectly 
 familiar to the merest tyro in Shakespearean study. 
 But while these agencies in creating strife existed from 
 tlie 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 tliat we find our- 
 selves in the presence of that outbreak of contention 
 which has been going on uninterruptedly from their day 
 to our OAvn. 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 1623. 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 tlie 
 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 
 
 68
 
 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 1G32 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 tlie time. Milton's tri bute to Shakespeare 
 had been prelixed to it ; but the attitude of Trynne in 
 his ' Histrioinastix,' 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 I 
 crown paper, far better than most Bibles.^ But tht/ 
 opening of the theaters after the return of the Stuarts 
 
 1 Pryimc's ' Histriomastix,' Epistle Dedicatory, aud address ' To the 
 Christian Reader.' 
 
 69
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 and the consequent reviving interest in stage repre- 
 sentation led to a renewed demand for the writing's 
 of the one man who, even when least in favor witli pro- 
 fessional critics, was instinctively felt by the mass of 
 readers to be the greatest of English dramatists. So 
 followed the edjjiaa_af_1663. It was printed from the 
 preceding folio, occasionally correcting some of its 
 errors, more often contributing new errors of its own. 
 The r eprint of it from the same plates which came 
 out the next year was remarkable for containinsr seven 
 additional plays, in soin a_jea pics ocoupying the begin- 
 nin g of the book, in o thers J:he 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 ' Sir John Oldcastle,' with 
 the date of IGOO ; the ' London Prodigal,' with that of 
 1605 ; ' A Yorkshire Traged}^' with tliat of 1G08 ; 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 coinniit the publisher to a direct falsehood, 
 especially as there was then flourishing 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. 
 
 70
 
 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 After the volume of 16G8-16G4 followed, in 1G85, 
 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- 
 ino- 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 tlie 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! Tew new ones came to take their place, 
 thougli in the case of certain pieces frequently acted — 
 notably ' Hamlet ' — - players' editions were brought out 
 during the fifty years or so following the Restoration. 
 Tliese 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 witli little 
 knowledge and less judgment. The result was that the 
 condition of the text was as a whole distinctly worse in 
 the latter part of the seventeenth century than it was in 
 the earlier part. 
 
 Such a state of thiufrs could not continue forever. 
 As the seventeenth century drew towards its close, 
 
 71
 
 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 somethiup- 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, wns the one selected to perform the 
 task. His edition of Shakespeare — the first in wldcli 
 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 nexTTyear by a volume containing 
 Shakespeare's poems. This was based upon the edition 
 of 1G40, which had included, and by so doing had as- 
 cribed to him, a number of iiieces with which he htwl no 
 
 'i 
 
 concern. The reprint madii no attempt to sift the 
 spurious from the genuine. Indeed the lack of authen- 
 
 72
 
 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ticity of any of these additions seems not to have 
 been suspected. The volume was apparently edited by 
 Giklon ; 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 containingTJTerh'a- 
 matic woi-ks, but it did not~come" from the^publishing 
 house of Tonson. This continuedto be the case in the 
 three reprints of ib which followed in 17 14, in 1725, a nd 
 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 wliich were brought 
 out in those years, liut in them Tonson had no inter- 
 est. To Rowe's second edition of 1714, wdiich appeared 
 in eight duodecimo volumes, this reprint of tlie one 
 brought out in 1710, containing the poems, was joined 
 as the ninth volume; but it bore the names of otlier 
 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 task, and the editor can hardly be Ijlamed if he 
 proportioneil his labor to his reward. Yet pretensions 
 to arduous exertions on his part were not lacking. 
 Rowe professed to have done wdmt he assuredly did not 
 even try to do. In the dedication of his edition to the 
 Duke of Somerset Ke "disclaimed indeed the idea that 
 
 73
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 he had accomplislied 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 he 
 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 
 ' exaarsrerated ' to Rowe's declaration of what he had 
 done. He possibly looked in a hasty wa}" over cerfciin 
 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 I'epresented as having appeared 
 with his army. This too had been wanthig 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 liis ovn\. 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 
 
 74
 
 THE EARLIEST EDITIONS OE SHAKESPEARE 
 
 danger of treating liini 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, lie completed two things in 
 particular which before his time had been performed 
 but partially. 
 
 In the folios the dramatis person{e_ were given in 
 only eight of tlie thirty-six ])lays. The division into 
 acts and scenes was carried out in the most imperfect 
 and haphazard manner. Six of the plays — tlie second 
 and third parts of ' Henry VI. \ ' Troilus and Cressida ', 
 'Romeo and Juhet', ' Timon of Atliens ' and 'Antony 
 and Cleopatra ' — begin M'itli the heading Actus Primus^ 
 Scccna Prima. After this tliere 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 tlie 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 
 remedied. It was no sligiit task, and it demanded in 
 every case a careful study of the plot. Even if his 
 conclusions were not always accepted, they furnished 
 an invaluable starting-point for the work of further 
 
 investigation. 
 
 75
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Such was the state of things one hundred years after 
 the death of Shakespeare. He had outhved 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 tlie 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- 
 ar}^ 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. 
 
 76
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 pope's edition of SHAKESPEARE 
 
 In May, 1720, the List instalment of Pope's translation 
 of the ' Iliad ' came from the publishing liouse of lantot. 
 The work which had absorbed the thought and toil of 
 years was completed. From the day of the appearance 
 of tlie first part in 1715 its success had been assured. 
 Scholars might cavil then, as they have cavilled since, at 
 tire 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 tlie 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 tliat even when the 
 precise sense was given, his rendering was not made 
 from the original, but was patclied up from versions of 
 Homer which had already appeared in English or in 
 French. In all charges of this sort there was unques- 
 tionabl}^ a measure of trutli. 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 he set out to accomplisli qualifications which 
 
 77
 
 THE TEXT OE 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 everywheie as being itself a 
 distinct contribution to the literature of its own tongue, 
 and not sini[)ly 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 has 
 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 Lintot's name liad been on the title- 
 page. Even were we to assume that liis 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 Sliakespeare, 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 
 
 78
 
 POPE'S EDITION OP 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 Avas exiled to Ireland. 
 Furthermore, Swift, though far superior as a writer of 
 prose, was in tlie highest foi in of literature no rival at 
 all. It struck Tonson as the most desirable of specula- 
 tions that the erreatest of Eno-lish 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 ao-reed to undei'take 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. Accordino- to Dr. Johnson's statement, derived 
 without doiib"irdirecfIy~or indirectly from the publishers. 
 Pope 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 
 nnist 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, v/ere 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 
 
 79
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 made that lie 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 tlie 
 subscription ; for denials of tliis 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 lie 
 is found icsenting any attack upon his character or 
 exhibiting peculiar sensitiveness to any imputiitions cast 
 upon his honor. 
 
 Exactly when he began the work of revising the text, 1"^ 
 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 1786^ — a time when 
 Pope was still feeling acutely tlie reflections cast upon 
 the way he had discharged his self-imposed duty — lie 
 asserted that he liad assumed the burden of editing 
 Shakespeare merely because no one else would.^ It is 
 likewise a I'casonable inference from what he further 
 said in this same place that lie took up the task im- 
 mediately after finishing his translation of the ' Iliad ' — 
 which he dated as 1719 — and then spent the next two 
 
 1 Note to liae 326 of Book 3 ; in luodoru editions, line 332. 
 
 80
 
 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 years in tlio drudgery of collation and revision. It is 
 probable that it was tins note that led Di-. Johnson in 
 his life of the po et to fix U])on 1721 as the year of the 
 publication of the edition of Shakespear e — a mistake , 
 the commission of which the slightest examination of 
 the work itself would have rendered impossible. Pope's 
 words, without any verification, are ahvays 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 [)urpuse 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.' Prom his correspondence 
 it is evident that in the latter part of 1721 he had been 
 for some time interested in the undertidving, 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." ^ By 
 the next month certainly news of the intended project 
 had become noised abroad. " The celebrated Mr. Pope," 
 said ' JNlist's Journal,' "• is preparing a correct edition of 
 Shakespeare's works ; that of the late Mr. Rowe being 
 very faulty." ^ 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 Tope's ' Works,' vol. ix. p. 31. 
 
 '^ November 18, 1721, p. 927, 2a colunm. 
 
 6 81
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 folio — which lie mistakenly ascribed to 1621 — shows 
 how little knowledge then existed of the value of the 
 orioinal autliorities. " The oldest edition in folio," he 
 wrote, " is 1021, which I have, and it is from that almost 
 all the errors of succeeding editions take rise." ^ In 
 July, 1724, Fenton wrote to Broome that he was about 
 to finish the completion of the index.^ 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.'^ The anticipation, as happens 
 generally in undertakings of this nature, was not ful- 
 filled. Not uutil 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 deliciency lay. 
 The preparation of it was a task for which Pope was 
 pre-eminently nnfitted. For performing tlie most essen- 
 tial portion of an editor's duty lie 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. 
 
 82
 
 POPKS EDITION OF 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 compiUng Greek chronological tables. So consti- 
 tuted, he had naturally failed to acquire the special 
 qualifications which w^ere requisite to carry through 
 with success the work he had undertaken. He had 
 little familiarity with the dramatic literature of the 
 Elizabethan asre. AVith 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 
 wdiich led him to believe that he w^as 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 tiie other hand, besides the mastery of a ceiiain 
 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 plii^ases, of scrutinizing carefully the punctuation so 
 far as it affected the meaning. In a higher sense, much 
 
 83
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 more was required for its successful prosecution. That 
 involved the possession of intellectual acumen of a pecu- 
 liarly subtle tyj)e, 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 qualilica- 
 tions or the characteristics Avhicli 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 I'evising the creations of others. 
 
 That a person of l*ope'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 tliis point, how- 
 ever, it lests 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 sliould have fallen below the 
 extremely overwrouglit expectations Avhich 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 Avas 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 circmnstances which have yet to be related, the 
 text came to be treated with a tenderness to which it 
 never had tlie slightest claim. A certain prepossession 
 in its favor, or rather a dislike to dwell upon its defects, 
 
 84
 
 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 has lasted down almost to the present time. Yet, if we 
 contrast Avhat Pope pretended to do witli what lie ac- 
 tually did, it is hardly possible to use too strong lan- 
 guage about his course. After modestly remarking tliat 
 in this edition he had given proof of his willingness and 
 desire to do Shakespeare justice, lie went on to malvc 
 assertions which he agon 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 ex[)ect thanks, with a religious abhorrence of all inno- 
 vation, and Avithout any indulgence to my private sense 
 or conjecture." This was strong enough as a gen- 
 eral statement; when it came to details it a\';is made 
 strouger. " The various readings," he went on to say, 
 " aie 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 codlcum, upon authority. . . . The 
 more obsolete or unusual words are explained." 
 
 Never has 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 duly to be done, and this he took care to proclaim 
 distinctly. Furthermore, he had the means of doing it. 
 T o the final volume he append ed 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 — 
 wliich had appeared before the publication of the iirst 
 complete edition, with the single exception of ' Much 
 Ado about Nothing.' II is means for establishing the 
 
 85
 
 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 dithcult to understand the statement of Capell 
 tliat Pope's materials were few. Much more confidence 
 can be put in tliat editor's criticism that Pope's collation 
 of his authorities was not the most careful.^ 
 
 The wealth of material he possessed makes in truth 
 the contrast between his words and his action peculiaiiy 
 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 iuid 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 OAvn authority ran up 
 into the thousands, and it was rarely the case that any 
 indication of the fact was given anywhere. He said that 
 he 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. 
 
 86
 
 POPE'S EDPriON OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ber he took the trouble to explain was about one hundred 
 and twenty. In considering them, one has always to bear 
 in mind that the language of tiie eighteenth century is 
 much further removed from the speecli 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 lie felt 
 it incumbent to dehne could have been unknown to tlie 
 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 
 loltcd means 'sifted,' that hudge means 'give way,' that eld 
 means 'old age,' thsit gyves means 'shackles,' thixt jit cheiv 
 means ' polecat,' that sometime means ' formerly,' that 
 rood means ' cross,' and that the verb tviteh 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 
 he made for definition, was too often the deiinition of 
 the words he selected. These were not unfrequently 
 the purest guesses. Even when they approached the 
 
 87
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARp: 
 
 meaning, they sometimes failed to give it exactly. A 
 few examples will set this forth clearly. The noun, 
 hildinff, '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 hrach., as 'hound.' The 
 two definitions given of Irooch are suggestive of the 
 obscurity as well as misapprehension tliat 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 liglit upon the 
 wrong one can be seen in his giving to calJat, ' a strum- 
 pet,' the sense of ' scold ' ; and again in defining coystrel,, 
 ' a knave,' as ' a young lad.' The?vs, in Shakespeare, al- 
 ways refers to physical qualities ; he made it refer to 
 moral ones. For tlius defining it he had the justifica- 
 tion that it had been sometimes so used ; but this is an 
 explanation of his course which in otlier cases cannot 
 always be trusted. In 'Antony and C'leopatra,' for 
 instance, the queen is designated by Scaurus as " j'on 
 ribaudred nag of Egypt." ^ Pope not only followed 
 Rowe in substituting ribald for rihaudred^ 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., sceue 10. 
 
 88
 
 POPE'S EDITION OF 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 
 ' Tempest,' ^ 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 
 rebukes 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 Oliewet has been defined as a kind of })ie 
 and as a jackdaw. Pope chose to consider it as a form 
 of the French word chevet, and in consequence gave it 
 the sense of ' bolster.' He was indeed always liable to 
 get into trouble w^hen 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 
 ver}^ 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. 
 
 89 
 
 :;
 
 THE TEXT OE 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,' ^ it was very 
 properly defined by Pope as a Yorksliire Avord for ' fistj 
 But this same natui-al 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 th y neif." ^ 
 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. Tliis 
 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 helj?, ye charming spells and periapts." ^ 
 
 To this last word Pope gave the signification of ' charms 
 sowed up.' He derived it properly enough from the 
 Greek verb periajjto, which he said meant ' to sowe.' 
 
 1 Act iv., sceue 1. ^ Act ii., scene 4. '■^ Act v., scene 3. 
 
 90
 
 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 This particular sense lias escaped the observation of 
 lexicographers. 
 
 But it was in the case of modern languages, especially 
 of his own, that Pope's efforts to base interpretat ion 
 upon etymology came to the greatest gri ef. In ' Much 
 Ado about Nothing,' i where mention is made of the 
 reecT^y — that is, the smoke-begrimed — painting, reeehy 
 was defined by him as ' valuable,' evidently under the 
 impression that it had something to do with rich. In 
 ' Lear,' in the passage which now reads 
 
 " All gei"mens spill at once 
 That make ingrateful man."^ 
 
 germ ens — that is ' germs,' ' seeds ' — was explained as 
 ' 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,' ^ the 
 clown remarks that " a sentence is but a cheveril glove 
 to a good wit, how quickly the wrong side may be turned 
 outward." (Vieneril^ wii^ delined as 'tender,' and to sup- 
 port tliis meaning it was represented as derived from 
 che veriUus, '■ 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 
 the real derivation was from the French word signifying 
 ' kid.' So again when Hamlet's father speaks of himself 
 as cut off, 
 
 " Unliouseled, disappointed, unaneled,"* 
 
 Pope explained unaneled — that is, ' not having received 
 extreme unction ' — by the ^^'ords 'no knell rung.' One 
 
 1 Act iii., scene 3. 2 ^ct iii., scene 2. 
 
 3 Aft iii., scene 1. * Act i., scene 5. 
 
 91
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 is indeed surprised by his occasional ignorance of what 
 from his professed rehgion he would be supposed fully 
 to know. As an additional instance, in King Henry 
 VIII.i 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 witli him, wheii-lie 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 imanointed 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 
 vy elements, says to them, in the original edition, " You 
 
 '^' owe me no subscription." ^ For this last word Pope 
 gave in his text snhmission. 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- 
 insrs he introduced. In several instances he retained 
 the obsolete teen, ' sorrow,' 'grief,' and furtlier defined it 
 correctly. Yet in ' King Richard III.' he substituted 
 for it anguish, though the rjmie required tlie use of the 
 original word.^ As in a large proportion of instances 
 
 1 Act iii., scene 2. 
 
 2 Act iii., scene 2. 
 
 ; 2 " Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, 
 
 And each hour's joy wracked with a week of teen." 
 
 Act iv., scene 1. 
 
 92
 
 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 tliose 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 long afterward in the editing or 
 reprinting of Englisli classics. There was little thought 
 of preserving the original text in its iutegrit}'. 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 erroi's corrected by the 
 veriest hacks in the pay of the booksellers. The license 
 in which Pope indulged was therefore characteristic of 
 liis age ; only his name gave a weight and authority to 
 the changes lie 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 
 sio-ht and lost to memory in the greater brilliance of 
 Warburton's extraordinar}^ performances in the same 
 line. 
 
 So far as the text pure and simple was concerned, 
 everywhere tliroughout this edition were exliibited 
 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 hrst or the second 
 folio, or from Rowe's text, or tliey may have been of 
 Pope's own invention, for anj^thing the reader can tell. 
 The original punctuation was sometimes clianged 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 3'ears 
 previous. Consequently when the Duke of Milan tells 
 his daughter that she knows notliing of whence she 
 came, or that he himself is " more better than Prospero, 
 master of a full poor cell," Pope clianged "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 
 miwarrantable liberty which has probably ever been 
 taken with the text of a screat author. Anvthino; that 
 did not suit his taste he insinuated and indeed almost 
 directly asserted was not the composition of Shake- 
 
 94
 
 POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 speare, but interpolatio ns foist ctl hito 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 witli 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, l)ut contented himself with setting against them 
 typographical marks of reprobation. This could be 
 endured ; l)ut 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 caiuiot 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 liis worst, and possibly not Shakespeare at alL 
 It may be that it could have been entirely omitted, as 
 Pope asserted, witliout causing any break in the orderly 
 development of the plot. But assuming all this to be 
 true, no authority belonged to any editor to nuitilate 
 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 There were only ten plays in which Pope did not discard some of the 
 lines of the original. In ' Midsumnier Night's Dream ,' ' Merry Wives of 
 
 95
 
 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 
 whicli 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 tnow this to have happened as the 
 result of pure carelessness. In others it is apparently 
 due to liis not having the slightest comprehension of the 
 meaning. Macbeth, for illustration, in giving his in- 
 structions to the men employed to niurder 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," ^ 
 
 is the caution he interposes. Tliese words were omitted 
 Iw Pope without the slightest notification of the fact. 
 The only apparent reason for liis so doing is that he 
 had no conception wliatever 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 tlie high-wrought passage in which Macbeth 
 
 Windsor,' ' Measure for Measure,' 'As You Like It,' 'All 's Well that Ends 
 Well,' 'Twelfth Night,' the third part of ' Plenry VI.,' 'Henry VIII.,' 
 and ' Antony and Cleopatra,' nothing was relegated to the bottom of 
 the page. 
 
 ^ Act iii., scene 1. 
 
 96
 
 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, l)ut 
 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." - 
 
 The second line of the passage Pope discarded from the 
 text and placed in the margin. Furthermore, not con- 
 tent wdtli 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 autliority 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. ^ Ibid. 
 
 7 97
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 most firmly believed tliat a part of the dialogue was 
 jejune and trivial. Not even Warbuiton, 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 tliat more had not undergone 
 the same sentence. Therefore upon his own judgment 
 he discarded an additional number which he looked upon 
 as objectionable. Tlie 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." ^ lie 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. 
 
 98
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 pope's treatment of the text 
 
 All that lias been said of Pope's edition in the 
 preceding- diapter is the tintli. It is even less than 
 the truth. Yet taken by itself it would certainly give 
 a ^^■rong 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.^ To use a modern phrase, 
 he has been charged with scamping liis work. The 
 gross unfairness of attacks of tliis 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, he 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.: " Fenton received .£30, 14 s. for his share in Pope's meanjre 
 edition of Shakespeare. Very little labour was bestowed upon the work, 
 and much of that little was done by Fenton and Gay." Note by Elwih 
 in 'Pope's Works,' vol. viii. p. 82. 
 
 99
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 The wide prevalence of the belief in tiie remissness 
 displayed by him in the discharge of his dnty 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 liave in view are so elevated tliat ordinarily it is 
 quite impossible for weak human nature to lift their 
 conduct up to the level of their professions. So it 
 was in tliis instance with Pope. He knew and pro- 
 claimed some of the methods of scholars, even if lie 
 did not follow them as lie 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. Tlie 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 readied, it would be 
 uncandid to deprive him of the credit of that industry 
 to which he is entitled. Proofs of tlie time and toil 
 he spent upon the text can be found on nearly every 
 page. In certain passages he re-arranged the words, and 
 f 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 clianges of these take pkice 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, llis edition was set up from liowe'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.^ 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 "Avaxed 
 like a sea."' Asrain 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 " was 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 tliis source ; to ^ Lear ' a great 
 many, — roughly speaking, about one hundred and lifty, 
 including a whole scene. These are specimens of the 
 work he did which sullice to free him from the charge 
 of having treated with almost total neglect the authori- 
 ties which lie 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 
 othere 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 pai-t of the received text. 
 
 It is the misfortune of Pope, liowevcr, 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 lifty 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, pla3's 
 which then came not infrequently from the press. Pope 1 
 pompously proclaimed them as " first editions," and gave I 
 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 ' Henry V.,' which 
 was originally published in 1600. In his controversy with 
 Theobald he pretended to rate the text of this wi'etched 
 edition as being in some ways of superior value to that 
 of the same play as found in the folio of 1G23, 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 ' Romeo and 
 Juliet,' which appeare^l in 1597. Poor as it was, he paid 
 to it tbe most marked deference. In his preface he said 
 in praise of it that there "was no hint in it of "a great 
 number^Qf the mean conceits and ribaldries " which were 
 now to be found in tlie play.^ Upon the strength of 
 its readi*^. he not only failed to retain in the text 
 numerous lines, he did not even trouble himself to put 
 them at the bottom of the page. There are instances in 
 
 1 Pope's Shakespear, vol. i., Preface, p. xvi... 
 
 103 
 
 )
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 which it is hard to say whether the recklessness or the 
 audacity displayed in tliese rejections is the greater. In 
 one place he omitted nineteen serious lines in the speech 
 of Friar Laurence to Romeo.^ 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 lie 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 lago from the tortured 
 spirit of the Moor, are relegated to the margin Avith 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.^ Yet with this belief 
 about it he added in two places lines from it to the j 
 Induction of Shakespeare's play.^ 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 R eign 
 of King John.' Though on its title-page it purported to 
 havVlbeen 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." ^ 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, iu Talile of Editions at end. >^ 
 
 2 Ibid. vol. iii. pp. 279 and 283. 
 
 3 Ibid. vol. iii. p. [115.] 
 
 105
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 to his mind, lie 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- 
 li'T-ently 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 iiion obeyed 
 And fell below his stem." 
 
 In all the later folios tveeds had been replaced by waves. 
 Pope not only retained this reading, but improved upon 
 it after his fashion. He changed stem to stern; 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 leaves to the last and defended it. 
 
 In his emendations, furthermore, there was occasion- 
 ally displayed something more than misunderstanding of ' 
 meaninw. 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 liurry of perusal lie 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 liis 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, liowever, 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 has 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 rejDUtation. 
 
 It is a natural inquiry after statements of this sort, 
 what is it tliat 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 tlie 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 tlie 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 briuGT about this result, words were 
 inserted in the verse, words were tln"own out, or the 
 order of words was changed. To these three classes 
 
 \08
 
 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 aGfainst 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 liis 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 liarmony was more tlian 
 lost in expressiveness and force. It was untrustworthy 
 because the changes made w^ere 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 lias 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. 
 
 At the outset it certainly suffered more from his 
 industr}^ 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 occasion to see, all 
 considerations of probability, justice, and truth. In the 
 
 110
 
 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT 
 
 particular subject under discussion liis 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 
 impi'oving and perfecting it, were bhndly adopted by his 
 immediate successors without any thouglit apparently of 
 questioning their necessity or desirability. That Han- 
 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 liim 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 wps justification for in- 
 cluding the lines which had been inserted from it into 
 
 111 
 
 )
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the text. Indeed, Cajjell declared much later that he 
 had been unable to secure the pla}^ 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.^ 
 But even here Theobald's action Avas 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 
 tliat play he adopted Pope's additions witli 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 — tlie 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 boi-rowed from the old play 
 had been adopted arbitrarily and unjustifiably. After 
 doiufr all this he tlien proceeded to insert them in his 
 own edition. " As the verses are not bad I have not 
 cashiered them," he wrote.^ 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 liis own judgment to that of the man who 
 
 1 Capell's Sli.ikespeare, vol. i., lutrodnctiou, p. 2. 
 
 2 Tlieobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 200. 
 
 112
 
 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT 
 
 had despitefiilly used liiiu tluit gave Capell his pretext 
 for denouncing Tlieobald 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. lie 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 Howe. Though they 
 were but seven in nuudjer, he with his usual heedlessness 
 spoke of them in the preface to his first edition as eight.^ 
 For taking this course he had the authority of the tirst 
 two folios ; but there is no question tliat 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 ' 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.^ 
 
 1 Pope's Shakespear, vol. i. p. xx. 
 
 2 Poems of Shakespeare (ed. of 1714), p. 373, 
 
 8 113
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 But though Pope had been anticipated in his view, 
 he was the lirst 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 tliem ; and perhaps to no one else would the 
 assent to tlie 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 iq) unqual- 
 ifiedly for the genuineness of any of the numerous })lays 
 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 Sliake- 
 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, w^as 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. lie observed that the weak side 
 of the later English commentators was poetic criticism, 
 lie 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 
 ' Arden of Feversham ' could have come.^ 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 ? ^ Why should not Shakespeare, he 
 again asked, have conformed to the practice then preva- 
 lent and joined a weaker poet in the composition of 
 ' T he Birth of Mer lin ' ? ^ 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 Schrifteu, Erster Band, s. 261 (Leipzig, 1848). 
 
 2 Ibid. s. 279. 
 
 3 Ibid. s. 30-t. 
 
 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 cliaracteristic 
 methods of expression. 
 
 The case is even worse with Schlegel, the creator in 
 part of that version of Shakespeare wliich 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 tlie dramatic 
 art of the great Elizabetlian to that of the so-called 
 classical scliool, accepted as probaljly, or rather as cer- 
 tainly genuine the seven pieces which from the time 
 of Pope had been, witli one exception, thrown out of 
 every English edition as unmistakably spurious. Nor 
 was he content witli this negative approval. Tln-ee 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. ^ The two 
 former were in his opinion models of the biogra})hical 
 drama. In the last of the three mentioned the traoic 
 effect was declared to be overpowering; of special sig- 
 nificance indeed was the poetical way in which the 
 subject had been handled. Sclilcgel's criticism of the 
 art displayed by Shakespeare exhibited the keenest in- 
 sight. Wlien 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. Sclilegel's Dramatisclie Vorlesujigeu, zweitej: Theil, ?weite 
 AbtUeilung, s. 238 (Heidelberg, 1814). 
 
 iia
 
 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 wliat he called 
 the most shining passages by conmias 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 aud^ 
 by inclination was disposed to do. Yet, even here we 
 are occasionally treated to surprises. Tlie celebrated 
 passage, for example, in ' Richard III,' in which Clar- 
 ence relates to Brackenbury 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 wliich 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 oj^inion 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. Tlie 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 u[)on the learning of Shakespeare, or 
 his alleged want of learning. It denied the truth of 
 the opinion even then prevalent that 13en Jonson w^as 
 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 modein 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. 
 
 118
 
 POPE'S TREATMENT OF THE TEXT 
 
 Pope's relations with tlie actors of his day were never 
 cordial after the failure, in 1^17, of ' Three Hours after 
 Marriage.' Towards CoUey Gibber, on the whole the 
 most noted representative of the theatrical world, he ex- 
 liibited 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 mucli later, as they are now. At the time, men 
 grumbled much more at the extravagant price at which 
 it Avas 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 tlie work was on the point 
 of appearing, that the price would be advanced for those 
 
 119
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 who were not subscribers. It was a further subject of 
 complaint that tlie binding of the volumes would in- 
 crease considerably the cost of what was already too 
 costly.^ 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 comjilicity in the wliole scheme. 
 
 The expression of feeling just indicated, the publisher 
 doubtless bore with equanimity ; Init 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 numljer, came forward one to 
 subject to strictest examination the work which liad 
 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, nrticles in ' Mist's Jourual ' 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 tliis 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 wliom 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 b}^ him to accord with the pronunciation. He 
 and Pope were, in the most exact sense of the word, con- 
 temporaries. Both were born in 1G88, both died in 1744. 
 To a certain extent they engaged in tlie same pursuits. 
 Both wrote poetry, both put forth translations of ancient 
 writers, both edited Shakespeare. Here the resemblance 
 ceases. The one, a man of gunirs, became the acknowl- 
 
 121
 
 I 
 
 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 was 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 Avas Lewis Watson, the first earl of Ptockingham. 
 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 liis 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 ho 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 titlic 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 biograpliies published during his lifetime, 
 his studies were carried on chiefly under the Reverend 
 Mr. Ellis, of Isleworth in Middlesex.^ It was doubtless 
 at this 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 tliere are several contemporary references 
 to him as engaged in the pursuit. Indeed in a letter of 
 his own to Warburton, written in March, 1729, he told 
 his correspondent that he had been fatigued with more 
 law business than the present crisis of his affairs made 
 desirable.^ It does not follow with certainty from these 
 words tliat he was then actually practising his profession ; 
 
 1 J.acoli's 'Poetical Register,' vol. i. p. 257 (od. of 1723). 
 
 2 Letter of March 18, 1720, in Nichols, vol. ii. p. 204. 
 
 123
 
 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 lie 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 Ihigland 
 which had been effected the preceding year. Tins 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
 
 THE EARLY CAREER OE THEOBALD 
 
 eulogistic verses addressed to the author by 
 genious and obliging friend," who signed hhnself J. 1). 
 To those who knew Theobald personally a certain in- 
 terest for that very reason w^ould then attach to the 
 production. To them the merit attributed to the piece, 
 whatever it was, would be further enhanced by tlie 
 youth of the writer. The only attraction it can have 
 for us now is the exceeding absurdity of mucli that 
 was written. It is with the following lines the poem 
 opens : 
 
 " Haste, Polyhymnia, liaste : thy shell prepare : 
 T 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 tlie worst part of the worst 
 piece he ever wrote. 
 
 In what way Theobald came to have a connection 
 wnth 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, tliough 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 wliich 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 tlie hero and the heroine. 
 Tragical it is, however, to an extent sufficient to satisfy 
 the taste most sanguinarily disposed. It conforms fully 
 to the Eliza})ethan tradition as to the shedding of blood. 
 Of the eight male characters four arc despatched on the 
 stage ; and while it is behind the scenes that a fifth swal- 
 lows the poison which destro3's his life, care was taken 
 to exliibit 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 
 
 127
 
 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 fasliion wliich 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 3'ear and a half 
 later, that the work was resumed. Witli the publication 
 of the ninetj^-sixth number on the first of June of that 
 year it concluded.^ 
 
 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 statemeut that these essays were originally pnblished 
 in ' Mist's Journal.' Indeed Nichols, in his ' Illustrations of the Literary 
 History of the lilighteenth Century' (vol. ii. p. 715), says that they uot 
 only appeared in it, hut appeared in 1726. It is sufficient to say that 
 ' Mist's Journal ' was a weekly, and that ' The Cens<jr ' was published 
 three times a week ; and further that thirty numbers of ' The Censor' had 
 been published before the end of June 171.5, while the first number of 
 'Mist's Journal,' came out in December, 1716. 
 
 128
 
 THE EARLY CAREER OF THEOBALD 
 
 That his means were always huiited, we can feel fairly 
 certain ; that at times he fonnd liimsulf in pecuniary 
 straits, there is every reason to believe ; but what little 
 evidence exists gives no countenance to tlie prevalent 
 belief that he was ever subjected to the pressure of 
 genuine poverty. Naturally he resorted to all sorts of 
 expedients to help out liis income. In particular he fol- 
 lowed tlie general custom of his time in dedicating liis 
 productions to persons of wealth and station. Among 
 them he clearly liad some warm friends and patrons, 
 and from tliera 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 lias been supposed 
 to be in straitened circumstances. That he should have 
 been in them at all was lamentable because it had tlie 
 effect of hindering him from carrying on the work for 
 which he Avas peculiaily 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 mucli devoted to the one to expect many 
 favors from the other. Yet he was enabled to support 
 a wife and certainly one chihl. Furthermore, the place 
 of his residence and the lengtli 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, 
 Bloomsbury. There he spent the rest of his life. To
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 his Louse 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 earher period 
 of his hfe 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 
 makins" 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 PJiaedo of 
 Plato which was published that year.^ It further shows 
 that he had entered into a contract to render the plays of 
 ^schylus in blank verse. About a year later he had 
 ao-reed 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 tlie 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 transhited he 
 was to be paid twenty-one sliillings and sixpence. A 
 line appears drawn through this contract as if for some 
 rccison 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 whicli 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 
 Tyrannus in 1715. The last is the only one of the four 
 which, according to his agreement witli Lin tot, he was 
 to render into English. Furthermore in 1715 he brought 
 out versions of the Plutiis and the Clouds pi 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.^ 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 
 
 1 Vol. ii. p. 211. 
 
 131
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 critic had been irritated by the attacks upon himself in 
 ' The Censor ' and by the outspoken praise accorded to the 
 version of the ' Ihad ' 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." ^ 
 
 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 tlie epic in 
 question. The first part of Pope's translation of the 
 ' Iliad ' had come from the publishing-house of Lintot in 
 1715. Not lono- after the same house issued a translation 
 by Tlieobald 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.^ 
 
 1 Remarks upon Pope's Translation of Homer (1717), p. 9. 
 
 2 The ])ainphlct devoted to a critical discussion oi the ' Iliad ' and the 
 translation of the first book of tlie ' Odyssey ' I have never seen. Both seem 
 to he exceedingly rare. Neitlier of tlieni is to be found in the library of 
 the British Museum or in the Bodleian. It will be noticed tliat I'ope 
 gives 1717 as the date of tlie 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 Metamorphuscs 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 ' The Dunciad ' 
 of 1729, in a note on Theobald, which has disappeared 
 from modern editions. " He had once in mind," said 
 Pope, " to translate the ' Odyssey,' the first book wliereof 
 was printed in 1717 by Lintot, and probably may yet be 
 seen at his shop." ^ 
 
 We have been told by an authority in general fairly 
 trustworth}^ that the pam[)hlet by Tlieobald upon tlie 
 ' Iliad ' and the proposed translation of the ' Odyssey ' 
 are " circumstances which sufficiently account for his 
 situation in the ' Dunciad.' " ^ They had nothing to 
 do with it whatever. In tliis 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 [)lace by derogatory suggestion. Prejudice 
 has never permitted a resort to the natural and indeed 
 necessary interpretation. Disraeli in his ' 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 tlie two great English libraries, at least under the name 
 of Theol)ald. 
 
 1 Dunciad, Book 1, line lOG (quarto of 1729) 
 
 2 Nichols' 'Literary' Anecdotes,' vol. i. p. 80. 
 
 133
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 His ignorance of the man's classical scholarship, which 
 far exceeded his own, might be pardoned, thongh 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 ' 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 tlie 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 brouQ-ht out in 1721. The versions he contrib- 
 uted to it from the psendo-Musaeus, from Sophocles, 
 ^schylus, and Theocritus ended his published efforts 
 as a translatoi'. 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 periodieal 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. ^ 
 
 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 60, March 9, 1717. 
 
 2 Churtou Collins, in 'Diet, of Nat. Biography,' vol. Ivi. 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 172G, 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 cc^pper-plates to be prefixed to 
 each tragedy, and had also been engaged in a com[)lete 
 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 ' 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 l)eeu 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 iEschy- 
 lus," he said, iiddressing him, " is equal to the specimen 
 which I have seen of it, of which I make no doubt, it 
 may make him," — tliat 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 tlie public in their projected undertakings. 
 "If neitlier of you," he continued, "have had a sub- 
 scription adequate to your merits, it is because in tins 
 wise and judicious age, the nge of operas, of ' Beggars' 
 Operas,' of ' Dunciads,' and ' Hurlothrumbos,' 'tis 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.^ To a line announcing 
 the approach of "another ^schylus " 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 s[)ecimen of him many 
 years ago, of which I only remember tliat the first note 
 contains some comparison between Prometheus and 
 Christ crucified." ^ 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 foi- which he had secured subscriptions. 
 
 1 Dmiciad, P.odk i., line 200 (eilitions of 1728). Tlic line is not ia 
 modern editions. 
 
 2 Duneiad, Book iii., line 311 (editions of 1729); modern editions, line 
 313. The part of the note here quoted was dropped in tiie ' Uuuciad ' of 
 1743, and is not found in modern editions. 
 
 137
 
 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 
 otlier books." ^ When it seemed certain that Theobald 
 was to pul)hsh a full commentary upon Shakespeare 
 according to the scheme then proposed, these attacks 
 increased in virulence. They may liave liindered him 
 from carrying his desire into effect, but they did not 
 destroy the desire itself. To a late pei'iod he clung to 
 the hope of bringing out his version of iEschylus. In 
 a note in his edition of Shakespeare ^ he discussed the 
 liberties taken with clironology by the English dramatist 
 and adduced numerous examples of the same practice 
 derived from other poets ancient and modern. " The 
 anachronisms of jEschylus," he observed, " I shall 
 reserve to my edition of that poet." 
 
 1 Dmiciad, Book i., liue 210 (editions of 1729). This note is uot in 
 modern editions. 
 
 2 Vol. vii. p. 44. 
 
 138
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Theobald's DRAisrATic ventures 
 
 The version of iEschylus, whether fully prepared for 
 the press or not, never passed beyond tlie stage of 
 manuscript. Nor indeed was it in translation from the 
 ancient drama that Theobald's greatest interest really 
 lay ; it w^as in the modern drama. He appears to have 
 been intimate with John Rich, wlio on the death of his 
 father Christopher in November, 1714, came into the 
 proprietorship of tlie 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 
 witli 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.^ Dennis, 
 a little later still, referred to him as having from 
 " an under-spur-leather of the law " become an " under- 
 strapper of the play-house." ^ Certain it is that he did 
 not disdain to assist Rich in the preparation of the 
 
 1 Preface to Mestayer's 'Perfidions Brother,' 1716. 
 
 2 Remarks ou 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 tlie 
 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 
 playwriglits, 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 tlie 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 Avas 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 tlien 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 fu-ed Avith an 
 ambition for distinction in fields for any serious success 
 in which he was totally unfitted. He did not escape 
 
 141
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the temptation wliich 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 ' Richar d 11. ' Urdike certain others, 
 this alteration failed to meet with tlie 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 
 ^vas never heard of again. About fourteen years later 
 he tried his fortune anew in an adaptation of Webster's 
 ' Duchess of Mal li.' This was brought out in April, 1733, 
 under the title of ' The Fatal Secret,' It was acted but 
 four times.2 As TlieoliaicT 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.^ 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. 
 
 142
 
 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 Lincohi's Inn Fields in February, 1716. It bore the 
 title of ' The Perfidious Brother.' On the stage it proved 
 then a failure ; it is just as nuich 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.^ If modelled upon tliat, 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 lago, possessing his wickedness but 
 lacking his intellect. Indeed it is hard to consider the 
 villain a viUain, his actions are so persistently those of a 
 fool. Nor does the corresponding Sebastian, the oUicr 
 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 
 retrret that it had not answered so well to Mr. Rich as 
 he had hoped. He professed himself unable to account 
 for its being so generally approved in the town and so 
 little regarded on the staije. The modern reader finds 
 no difficulty whatever in understanding the latter state- 
 ment, but much difficulty in believing the former. 
 
 1 Geuest's 'English Stage,' vol. ii. p. 114. 
 
 148
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 In this same preface Theobald defended himself from 
 the cliarge 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 liere and there the 
 correction of an odd word. This lie 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 sometliing 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 I'ccast tlie 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 Ave 
 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 conunents 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 tliat 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 tlie 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 eveiy line. The exact facts in the case are never 
 likely to be ascertiiined ; in truth, they arc 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 reproacli upon liim 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." 
 
 Rodrio-o 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, Book 1, 1. 198, ed. of 1728; 1. 208, quarto of 1729. In 
 modem editions Tlie Cid and Perulla, Book 1, 1. 250, take the place of 
 Memnon and Kodrigo. The note lias accordingly disappeared. 
 
 10 145
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Shakespearean controversy. In 1727 lie annonuced 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 Tlieo- 
 bald and Rich. The piece, in consequence, was not 
 brouo-ht out at the theater in Lincoln's Inn Fields, but 
 at Drury Lane. It was first acted on the loth 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 deen:>ed at the time a distinct success. 
 It had a run of ten nights ^ and before the season closed 
 it was performed at least twice more. For benefits it 
 was selected not unfrequently 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 unauimous applause with whicli this phiy Avas received hy 
 considerable audiences for ten niglits, the true friends of tlie drama liad 
 the satisfaction of seeing that author (i. e., Sliakespeare) restored to his 
 rightful possession of tlie stage," etc., etc. — From a letter signed Dramat- 
 icus to the 'Weekly Journal or British Gazetteer,' No. 142, Feb. 10, 1728. 
 According to Geuest, the play ran from Dec. 13 to JJec. 22, and Dec. 26 
 was the tentli night. 
 
 146
 
 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES 
 
 the term of fourteen years. These are the simple facts 
 connected with the production of the phiy. The copy- 
 right Theobald sold in July, 1728, for one hundred 
 guineas.^ 
 
 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 tliat 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 , lie referred to the doubt ex- Af^*^ 
 pressed by many that a manuscript of one of Siiake- ' ' 
 
 speare's works could have remained so long unknown 
 and unnoticed, and to the further intimation that lie 
 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 tliat 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 tliat 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 Tlieobald leaves the lawyer's gainful train, 
 To wrack with poetry his tortured bi'ain ; 
 Fired or not fired, to write resolves witli 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." ^ 
 
 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 
 
 ^ From * The Modern Poets,' by a Young Gentleman of Cambridge, 
 iu 'Grub-Street Journal,' No. 98, November 18, 1731. Reprinted iu 
 ' Geutleman's Magazine' for November, 1731. 
 
 148
 
 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES 
 
 the mq^ iiseript jhiTs never been eitjn^r produced or repro- 
 duced , we lire unable to tell how much belongs to the 
 orisrinal text and how much was added or altered in the 
 revision. There are in tlie play palpable imitations of 
 passages in Sliakespeare'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 lie 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 o£ 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 
 stiitement of this sort. There is scarcely a trace of the 
 great dramatist in it, even of his best or worst manner. 
 ' 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 modihed 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 liis. 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 Encflisli 
 — 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, 
 tliat 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 sta^e." The tradition about the oift 
 is as worthy of credence as the tradition about tlie nat- 
 ural daughter ; though were the story true, we could be 
 
 150
 
 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES 
 
 somewhat consoled by tlie 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 
 ver}"- 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 tliat 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, wlio 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 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 words in ' Double Falsehood ' with whieli the writer of 
 ' The Dunciad ' and his partisans affected to make merry .^ 
 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, E usden, the poet laureate, 
 died. The post at this time had lost an its ciignit3\ 
 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 ' The Dunciad,' or by the perception 
 he must have had of the fact that if he secured the post 
 he would he, 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, 
 ho\Vever, was not due in the least, as he said himself, 
 to any vanity, but to a desire to assist his fortunes.^ 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. iii. p. 154. 
 
 2 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 617, December, 1730. 
 
 152
 
 THEOBALD'S DRAMATIC VENTURES 
 
 siderecl 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 J 
 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 Walpolc. For 
 a time he apparently cherished high hopes of success. 
 But after some weeks of fruitless attendance he had the 
 mortification to find himself s uppl ai itcd by CoUey Gibber. 
 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, Gibber was 
 probably the wretchedcst 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, hy 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 emuity 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 hiid 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 w^hich have sprung up in 
 regard to tlie 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 ' 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 published.' 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 
 has 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 
 he took seemed an innovation and came as a surprise. 
 At the immediate moment it conferred upon him a wide- 
 s})read and well-deserved reputation. The desert still 
 exists, but no longer the repute. It is well within 
 bounds to say tliat 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 autlior lias 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 fust 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 liner tyi)c. In tliis, 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 '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- 
 DOTted to be given, though the number was realTy some- 
 what larger. The emendations to the other plays, 
 which were contained in the appendix, were naturally 
 more numerous. Of these there w ere one hundred and 
 
 156
 
 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED 
 
 there were oiie liundre(l.^a ncl 
 
 sev en nominally ; a 
 seventeen. 
 
 ATthe work was mainly given up to pointing out the 
 errors in Pope's edition, and incidentally in Howe'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 hio-bor 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 tlie 
 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, liow- 
 ever slight. Theobald has been more fortunate than 
 most. In regard to several of the emendations first {uit . 
 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 tlie 
 man, in view of the way in which he lias 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 inevitableness. 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' ^ 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 ' headborouGfh ' in tlie Induction to the 'Taming 
 of the Shrew'; of tlie representation of Alcides being 
 beaten by his 'page' instead of his 'rage' in the 'Mer- 
 chant of Venice ' ; ^ of 'I prate ' in the speech of Cor- 
 iolanus ^ to liis mother, instead of ' I pray ; ' of having 
 " scotched the snake " in ' Macbeth,' * instead of having 
 " scorched it ; " of " the ne'er lust-wearied Antony " in 
 Pompey's speech in 'Antony and Cleopatra,'^ in place 
 of " the near lust wearied Antony ; " and in the same 
 pUiy the description of the flag or rush " lackeying " the 
 varying tide instead of ' lacking ' it.*^ It requires in- 
 deed a sfood 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 Avhose 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 ^ith 
 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 1. ^ Act v., scene 3. 
 
 * Act iii., scene 2. '^ Act ii., scene 1. ^^ Act i., scene 4. 
 
 158
 
 SHA KESPEARE RESTORED 
 
 by Pope to 'lasliiug,' 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 meaninrr 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. Tlie 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 I 
 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 his way of say- 
 ing it, if it were certainly his way of saying it. Scorch 
 
 169
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 in this sense of ' 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."^ It was the earliest attempt to apply to a 
 classic of our own language the methods which had 
 been eni})loyed 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 Tlieobald 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 \x\wn 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 ot ni^ tinieT 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. 
 
 IGO
 
 SHA KESPEA RE R ES TO RED 
 
 and his rival's rep resent 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 witli 
 the process by which it was reached. 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 
 wliich 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. 
 Befoi'e 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 eanie 
 out in the folio of 1023. Between the text of these two 
 editions there are great differences. The folio has 
 double the number qf^ lines which are found in the 
 quarto. Abott^xnlf'l^tter 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 Heniing and Condell had complained. No one 
 has ever pretended tliat Shakespeare had anytliing 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 shortrhand writer who. 
 was possessed of phenomenal ignorance, or who in this 
 instance encountered unusual diflicidties 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 whicii 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 liis 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
 
 SNA KESPEA HE RES TOR ED 
 
 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 IGOO 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 whicli 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, ' and 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 hible 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." '1 In his preface also he indicated these final 
 words as having been inserted in the text through the 
 ignorance of the transcribers.^ 
 
 1 Pope's Sliakespe:ir, vol. iii. p. 422. 
 ^ 2 Ibid. vol. i., Preface, p. xviii. 
 
 163
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 This explanation liad a very plausible sound. It is 
 indeed an excellent specimen of guess-work euiendation 
 based purely upon assumption. To those who knew 
 nothing of the matter, it seemed convincing. There 
 were, howevei", dilHculties 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 n ever in the promp ter's 
 books, still less in the pie cemeal parts w here properties 
 or implements are indicated as wanted, is the name of 
 
 rrr 
 
 the 'one gi ven Avhose business it is to provide them. 
 Nor again is the direction for furnishing these prop erties 
 ever marked in the middle of thp- scenes for wliich 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 ? T lieob j i ld
 
 SHAKESPEAllE RESTORED 
 
 gave one possible cxpLtuation of their introduction a s 
 beirfiT; a staore direction in reference to tlie subsequent 
 seen^] But upon this he Avisely laid no stress. He 
 ]iad, however, he said, another interpretation, which, if 
 acee[)ted, 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 clianged it to 'babbled,' or, as it was then 
 often spelled, ' babied.' This latter was still nearer tlie 
 foi'm in the folio. The onlyjiltiiiaJ^ions were the addi- 
 tion of a linal dJ jO 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 
 a pen, and a babied of green fields." 
 
 The happiness of this emendation struck every one at 
 once. Men wlio had suggested other alterations frankly 
 admitted the superiority of tliis.^ j|*ope himself was 
 impressed by it, though he affected to treat the correc- 
 tion slightly and as a guess hardly worth mucli atten- 
 tion. In his comment upon it in his _second ed ition lie 
 played upon the ignorance of tlie public as to the com- 
 parative value of the original authorities, thougli 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 tlie latter part," he wrote, 
 "because no such words are to be found in any edition 
 
 1 See, for instance, the ' Answer to Pojie's Preface to Shakespeare,' by 
 a Strolling Player (u. d. 1730, l)y Juhii Roberts). 
 
 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." ^ 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 Tlieobald'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 occtisional 
 efforts whicli 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. C ollier was the only E nglish o ne who 
 introduced a different reading' into the text. Instead of 
 " 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 
 
 ^ Pope's Shakespear, 2d ed., under ' Guesses, etc' at eud of vol. viii. 
 
 166
 
 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED 
 
 ill both the earher and later sense of the word. Tliese 
 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 
 0^^rst 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 lausfhed at. In a later edition he declared that the 
 emendation had now become so completely a part of tlie 
 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 tlie 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, 
 who are attacked by the calenture, the fever of the 
 tropics, are apt to run upon green fields, which contrast 
 
 1G7
 
 rilE TEXT OF SflAKESPEARE 
 
 so sharply with the waste of waters about them. But 
 this could have only a slight connection Avith 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 humaJ^A 
 experience, every aspect of which the mind of Shake- 
 speare seems to have comprehended in its all-embracing 
 grasp. In tliat 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 CO back to the scenes of childhood when, a careless 
 and innocent boy, he wandered in fields wliich under 
 summer skies were redolent with the freslmess and fra- 
 grance of summer verdure. Such an interpretation is 
 alike true to poetry and true to nature. Still, wliile 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 meiit of 
 them cannot therefore, by anj^ ingenuity, be transferred to 
 any one else. Fortunatel y for his reputation, he had not 
 at tliis 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 thoso facilities under which at 
 that time the best equipped of men labored, he suffered 
 
 168
 
 SHAKESPEARE RESTORED 
 
 at first from the want of facilities wliieh 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 
 1023. 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 Wiv(;s of Windsor ' 
 there is a blunder found in the text of the second folio 
 and all the subsequent editions which liad 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 licr 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.* When Pope brought 
 out his second edition in 1728, he inserted this as tlic 
 proper reading, but denied Theobald's claim of being its 
 originator. " It is in the first folio edition," he said, 
 " which, it hereby appeare, 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 
 his comments were serious, he was unconsciously com- 
 mending Theobald's sagacity, besides furnishing the 
 
 1 See Theobald's letter iu the ' Daily Jourual,' Nov. 26, 1728. 
 
 169
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEAPiE 
 
 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 tliis 
 treatise which he subsequently withdrew in his edition 
 of Shakespeare. A correction of Hamlet, indeed, whicli 
 is found in the l)ody of this very work he retracted in 
 the appendix.i There is this, however, to be said of the 
 changes which he proposed. They were never wanton. 
 They are always of the sort winch are made by a man 
 who lias studied his subject, who has honestly striven to 
 ascertain exactly what his author is aiming to express. 
 Hence they usually convey a clear meaning, thougli 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 dne 
 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 whicli 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 he might not beteein the winds of heaven 
 Visit her face too roughly." 
 
 The difficulty is with the verb heteem. We give it 
 here, or rather impf)se 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 Theol)ald 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 su bsti- 
 tuted ' permitted not.' In tliis it was foUp wad- by 
 R Q\ve, and he by Pope, an d, bp> \n tnyp b y W nrbnyton. 
 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 1700, when Malone restored the 
 heteem 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. Witli 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 heteem 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 arc 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 witli that careless confidence in his 
 own future which becomes almost a second nature to 
 those whom higli 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 rellect tliat this sense of security has been the 
 agency that had brought about his fall. He sees that 
 the possession of apparently boundless resources renders 
 a man unobservant of the perils which threaten his for- 
 tunes, while tlie very lack of these resources tends to the 
 advantage of him who lias them not, by causing him to 
 conduct himself providently and cautiously. " Too oft," 
 he saj's, — 
 
 " Om- means secure us, and our mere defects 
 Prove our conunodities." ^ 
 
 The adjective sreure 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 tlie verb derived from it, 
 as is here exemplified. Tlieobald, like his contempo- 
 raries, was not, however, aware of tlie fact. lie is cer- 
 tixinly 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 tliat 
 means meant the same as mean. He therefore retained 
 the form without understanding it. Steevens insisted 
 that it was a mere typographical error. Tliis 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,' ' the middle state.' But his natural acuteness 
 
 1 Act iv., scene i. 
 
 17a
 
 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 ' ensnare ' for ' secure.' But, 
 by the time he came to bring out his own edition, tliis 
 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 lie 
 had adopted the unauthorized ensnare. 
 
 There 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. Tliese 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, perliaps, not advisable for us 
 to assume too much virtue over tliis particular exhibi- 
 tion of inanity. The lawless orthography of the English 
 tonsrue often begets somethinor of the same doting^ affec- 
 tion for it which mothers occasionally manifest towards 
 ill-favored children. Ample opportunity has l)eeu 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 RE STORED 
 
 Worse even than this, some of Theobald's einenda- 
 tious Avere 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 [)unctuation which 
 he had chosen to adopt was correct in its very essence 
 and was not a matter of convention. His remarks, ac- 
 cordingly, Avere more worthy of an opinionated proof- 
 reader than of the editor of a classic. These Avere not 
 A^ery many, it is true, nor did he give them much space ; 
 but few as tlicy Avere, there Avere too man}', and the 
 space given them Avas too much. Tliey furnished a kind 
 of plausible justification for the contempt with Avhich 
 Pope and his adherents spoke of tlie Avhole process of 
 making changes in the punctuation, as if it Avere some- 
 thing Avhich did not concern the meaning of the sen- 
 tence, and as if indiiference t(^ it were merely a disregard 
 of an unimportant prescription of the printers. It gave 
 tliem a handle for misrepresentation of Avhich they Avere 
 not slow to aA^ail themselves, and Avhich they assuredly 
 improved to the uttermost. A man's ability is measured 
 not by his poorest Avork but by his best. Even as a 
 commentator, it has been at times tlie peculiar fortune 
 of Theobald to be judged by his Avorst. 
 
 175
 
 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 higldy educated men. But 
 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 difliculties with Avhich 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 metliod of attacking 
 the corruptions in the text of an English classic and of 
 restoring it to its pristine integiity. 
 
 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 Avere 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 familiarizincj himself with these obscure sources of 
 information s[)eedily becomes aware that with his pub- 
 lication of ' Shakespeare Restored ' Theobald came at 
 once into prominence. During the years immediately 
 following the appearance of tliis 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 ' 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 ho '11 be to Rome 
 
 As is the Aspvey to the lish ; 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 a\ hat his author 
 meant. Plain as it appears now, it was not so obvious 
 then. All the authorities up to tliis time had had the 
 form asprc'i/ or aspray. AVhat did it mean ? The mul- 
 tiplication of voluminous dictionaries has made us all 
 aware that there is not and never has l)een any such 
 word as a%prey. 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 
 Rowe nor Pope had tliouglit 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 liad once been 
 prevalent, that the bird called the osprey captured fish 
 by tlie fascination witli 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 This emendation was published in the ' London Journal' of Saturday, 
 Sept. 3, 1726. Theobald's letter is dated August 28. 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 Nicliols, vol. ii. p. 1 89. 
 
 178
 
 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 But whatever the altitude of later times or of a later 
 period in his own time, no inj ustice was done him at the 
 outset. So great Avas 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.' " lie was so styled 
 in the beneiit whieh was given him at Covent Garden in 
 May, 1727,* 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, tlie 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 fi'om 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 
 ' 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 whom he did not 
 
 1 May 5, 1727, Geuest's ' Eni^lish Stage,' vol. iii. p. 188. 
 
 179
 
 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 tliat it was a matter of keen regret that it 
 had not fallen to his lot to revise the text.^ 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, 171G, by a 
 printer named Nathaniel JNlist. A Tory organ of the 
 extremest 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. lie was frequently arrested, was fined, 
 Avas committed to prison. lie 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 Jourual,' No. 54, May 7, 1726. The signature to this letter is 
 Philo-Sliaki'sjiear, hut Concaueu's authorshij) is ])rovcd hy the fact that it 
 contains a number of sentences which are found in an essay of his con- 
 tained in the vohune entitled 'The Speculatist,' published in 1730 (page 
 1S5). For a further expression of a similar feeling sec tlie communication 
 of A. B. in tlie 'London Journal' of May 28, 1720. 
 
 180
 
 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 for it, and applied to it numerous uneomplinienluiy 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,^ 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 u[) the ghost. From its ashes, 
 liowever, 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 he 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 loner 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 
 
 1 The Bee, vol. i. p. 9, Feb. 10, 1733. 
 
 181
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 not a cliaiacteristic which particulaiiy marked its 
 successor. 
 
 Were it not that Pope labored to produce an impres- 
 sion to the contrary, it wouhl be entirely needless to say 
 that Theobald's connection with ' Mist's Journal,' so far as 
 he 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 tlie 
 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 jiatient investiga- 
 tion and close reflection. The knowledge which Theo- 
 bald had already displayed in his leview 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 connnentator 
 on the works of its greatest representative, or as a critic 
 of their editor. As a student of the period Shakesjjearc 
 had naturally received his chief attention. It will not 
 be surprising that tlie familiarity he acquired with liis 
 diction should be especially noticeable in his later writ- 
 ings, such for instance as the so-called dramatic opera of 
 ' 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,' ' JMac- 
 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 DOPE 
 
 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. AVe 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 wath 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 ' Th e Cave of Poverty ' and came out in the firs t 
 hal f 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 he 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 has 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 tlie author him- 
 self thoucrht a g-ood 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 TEX2' OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 partiality unjustiilable from his point of view. It is 
 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 
 sliare 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. Tlie 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 tliat might have been expected to be the ease, 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 tliat 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 tliat 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 
 
 — j^3 _— — _
 
 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 and Adonis/ a dmeasure then hardly ever u snd n.nd nnnp. 
 to$I-EaElttt ar shic e. In the phraseology the influence of 
 Shakespeare is particularly apparent. The plays of the 
 dramatist abound in com pound adjectives. They are even 
 more numerous in his two principal poems. Theobald 
 hnitated him in this practice. He not only coined on his 
 own account a pretty large number of tiiese compounds, 
 but hejid opted a large nuuibcr which lie found in the 
 writings of his g reat predecessor. From ' Tlie Rape of 
 Lucrece' he borrowed full fifteen, sometimes couphng 
 them with the same substantives, as 'fiery-pointed sun,' 
 ' tear-distained eye' and 'blue-veined violets.' The 
 adaptations from the plays were on a smaller scale, 
 though amoug them occur some of the most noteworthy 
 employed by the dramatist. There are, for instance, the 
 ' tender-hefted ' of ' Lear ' and the ' wonder-wounded ' of 
 ' Hamlet.' Furthermore there were to be found in this 
 piece of Tlieobald's a large number of Sliakespearean 
 words and phrases with which few were familiar then, 
 and not too many now. Such, for illustration, are 
 ' copesmate,' ' bateless ' and ' askaunce their eyes,' all 
 tln-ee taken froui ' The Rape of Lucrece.' But there 
 further appear in it the ' gallow ' of ' Lear,' the ' agnize ' 
 of ' Othello,' the ' tristful ' of ' LLamlet,' the ' callet ' of 
 several plays, the ' rebate the edge ' of ' 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- 
 edsre to which several of his detractors never attained. 
 
 ' 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 wouhl liave 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 
 was usually spoken of with a good deal of respect. 
 Then the attitude of men was all changed, and it 
 has continued changed to this da}'. 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 Avi'iter 
 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 [)erfectly 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 witliout 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 mucli 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 unequivocah^ 
 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 faintl}' 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 runninnf- 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 Avould 
 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 
 the field as a commentator. 
 
 1 There are roforonccs to Sliakospoare and quotations from or discns- 
 sions of his writinics in 'The CcnsiiT.' in numbers 7, 10, 16, 17, 18, 26, 36, 
 41, 48, 54, 60, 63, 70, 73, 75, 84, 87, and 05. 
 
 187 
 
 ;
 
 ( 
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 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 
 neaily all of such occasional pieces it was l)oth 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 
 
 " wlio by tlie god inspirefl, 
 Could make Lodona How and l)e admired." 
 
 To leave no doubt in the mind of any reader as to the 
 person meant, lie appended tlie following note : " Mr. 
 Pope and his ' Windsor Forest.' " A few years later he 
 expressed himself even more fervently in one of the es- 
 says of ' The Censor.' In it he praised in most extrav- 
 agant terms the version of the eio-ht books of the ' Iliad ' 
 which had tlien appeared. " Tlie 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 wlien I find all 
 these meet, it puts me in mind of what tlie 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' Si ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 formed in this translation what I once despaired to 
 have seen done by the force even of several masterly- 
 hands."^ 
 
 In trnth Theobald's admiration for his great contem- 
 porary may be said to have passed over into nnjustifiable 
 partisanship. He took freqnent occasion in the periodi- 
 cal jnst mentioned to signalize his devotion to Pope by» 
 making what seem nn provoked assaults upon Pope's^ 
 stontest antagonist, Dennis. Ilim ho designated by the 
 title of Furins. He spoke of him as an object of pity, 
 rather than of the laughter and contempt whi(^h were his 
 daily portion.^ In one instance he went to the unwar- 
 rantable length of saying that Furius onglit to be under 
 obligation to him for his attack, for it would give him the 
 opportunity of contributing to his own support by wi'it- 
 ing twelve-penny worth of criticism in re[)ly.^ In fine, he 
 affected to treat Dennis with the same air of superiority 
 which Pope was subsequently to manifest towards liim- 
 self. The veteran critic, as we have seen, had not been 
 slow to retort in his usual slang- wlianging 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 he paid Dennis a direct and 
 ])robably well deserved compliment for his intimate ac- 
 (piaintance with the works of the dramatist.* 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 Censor, No. 3.1, Jiinnar}' fj, 1717. 
 
 2 Ihid. 
 
 3 Ihid. No. 70, April 2, 1717. 
 
 * Shakespeare Restored, p. 181. 
 
 ISO
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 This change of front accordingly led Pope to revive, in 
 the notes to ' The Dunciad,' the memory of these early 
 quarrels, which had been largely due to the partiality 
 exhibited in his own behalf by the man lie was now seek- 
 ing to disparage. He quoted the abusive terms which 
 Theobald and Dennis had applied to each other. It is 
 one of tlie 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 \\'hich he understood almost as 
 little. Along with tliis the latter was vituperated for 
 his " idiot zeal "' in behalf of the translation. ^ Theobald 
 must have felt at the appearance of this attack that he 
 was exposed to a double fire. It was certainly hard to 
 be at one and the same time an object of Pope's satire 
 for having exposed liis l)lunders as a commentator and 
 to be railed at by the assailants of Pope for liaving 
 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 iEschjdus. Tliis may have abated the warmth of the 
 feeling witli wliicli the inferior writer had been disposed 
 to regard the superior one. Still, it is manifest that it 
 was from no sentiment of hostility tliat he put forth his 
 
 1 The Popi:ul, 1728, jip. 1, 5. 
 190
 
 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 review of Pope's edition of Shakespeare, He not only 
 refi'iiined from exhibiting the feeling, he disclaimed it. 
 Thronghout 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. '' 1 have so great 
 an esteem for Mr. Fo[)e," he wrote in one place, " and 
 so high an opinion of his genius and excellencies, that 1 
 beg to be excused from the least intention of derogating 
 from his merits in this attempt to restore the true read- 
 ing of Shakespeare." ^ In another place, he enrolled 
 himself specitically in the list of the poet's admirers.'-^ 
 
 But no one could ciiticise 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 
 ex[)ected to undergo attacks of wit for what he had done, 
 he sliould 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. 
 " AVherever I have the luck," he added, "• to be right in 
 any observation, I flatter myself Mr. Pope himself will 
 be pleased that Shakespeare receives some benefit." ^ 
 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. 3 Ibid. p. 194. 
 
 191
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 his innocence he cliaracterized as a generous antagonist. 
 It would be difficult to impart jo}' to the heart of any 
 author by showing up his errors ; in tlie 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 ' Essay on the Translation 
 of the Odj^ssey,' 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. 
 Tliis work was higldv thought of in the eiofhteenth 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 
 
 1U2
 
 THEOBALiyS ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 judgment, as ic[)oitcd by him, was to bind that of all 
 coming times, were Akenside, Bishop Low tli, and James 
 Harris.^ 
 
 Posterity, however, lias failed to be awed by this for- 
 midable array of names. It has been much more dis- 
 posed to accept Johnson's dictnm 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 further 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 ' 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 Avas inclined to believe, he wrote to Broome, tliat 
 the world would fancy they had employed a friend pre- 
 tendedly to attack them, or perhaps that they had written 
 it themselves.^ 
 
 1 Warton's Pope, vol. i. in ' Life of Pope,' p. xxxvi, 1797. 
 " Letter of June 10, 1726, I'ope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 720. 
 
 13 19;j
 
 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 higliest 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 sinii)le, 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 farther 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. lie was 
 not content witli 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 higliest 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 tliis treatise is that 
 Spence said nothing more than he honestly beheved. 
 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 
 
 104
 
 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 is the ini'oi-enco to be di'uwn from Dr. Joliiisoirs remark, 
 iet, sueh a view of it would be about tlie farthest 
 possible remove from the truth. There was not the 
 slightest traee of malevoleuee in '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 tliat Tlieobald 
 in his review was animated by no other feeling than the 
 desire to rectify the text of his favorite autiior. 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, inidoubtedly, a spice of vanity in 
 his anxiety to show to the world that in one respect lie 
 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 lie 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 tlie 
 text. He 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 tlie second part of 
 Henry VI., the " bastard hand " of Brutus is represented 
 
 195
 
 ] 
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 in this much-vaunted edition, as having stabbed ronipey 
 tlie Great. Tlie somewhat ridiculous blunder was due 
 to the disappearance of a line.^ 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 tlie 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 
 
 ^ The lines in ' Henry VI' (Act iv., scene 1) read as follows: 
 
 " A Roman sworder aud banditto slave 
 Murther'd sweet Tully ; IJrutus' bastard hand 
 Stabb'd Julius Caesar ; savage islanders 
 Pompey the Great ; and Suffolk dies hy pirates." 
 
 The third line was dropped out in Tope's first edition. It was 
 restored in the edition of 1728. 
 
 196
 
 THEOBALD'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS POPE 
 
 liuil been exposed. I^iuloubtedly, it wcjuM li;ive been 
 just to give Pope credit for the work lie ueluully accom- 
 plished, meager as it was when contrasted w'xih what it 
 purported to be. lUit 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 wdth more deference ; 
 while it might have been courteous, in consideration of 
 his exalted ]30sition, to refrain from cilticism of any sort, 
 it is perfectly correct to s^y that there was no malevo- 
 lence in it. Assuredly, if there was, all criticism wdiich 
 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. Thcie 
 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 throuGfhout was that of a man who knew liis 
 subject upon the work of one who showed on page 
 after page the results of half-knowledge and inadequate 
 investigation. 
 
 197
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 pope's PKELIMINAIIY ATTACK 
 
 The revelation wliicli Tlieobald had made of the 
 inattention and incapacity disphiyed by Pope in IjIs 
 edition of Sliakespeare 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 U[)()n his character or conduct irritated him 
 beyond mciisure. 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. Tliere 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 
 ' The Dunciad ' of 1736, that he undertook the edition 
 of Shakespeare merely because no one else would.^ 
 
 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 e^litor, as the}^ liad Ijcen 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 
 alread}" 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 he had prepared, Broome, 
 not content with sionino- the false statement as to the 
 respective shares which Fenton and he had had in tlie 
 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 tlie 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, I'.ook 3, line 332. 
 109
 
 THE TEXT OF STIAKESPEyiRE 
 
 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 tlie proper manner of editing him lie certainly knew 
 nothing at all. This view of Pope's achievement had 
 been prepared, though not published, before the ai)pear- 
 ance of ' Shakespeare Restored.' Wlien that came out, 
 the criticism contained in it had a tendency to make all 
 sucli lines seem ridiculous. If Theobald's work accom- 
 plished nothing else, it put an end to nil further enter- 
 prises in that particular field of eulog3^ 
 
 Pope's sensitiveness was still furtlier intensified by 
 the universal acclaim with which Theobald's treatise 
 liad 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 liis writings, 
 liad yet been led l)y tliis review of the subject to enter- 
 tain a poor opinion both of his critical skill and of his 
 industry as an editor. I>ut to these two classes were 
 added tliose — and they Avere no small number — who 
 Avere envious of the poet and of the position he had 
 attained. INIany 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 PRELIM /NARY ATTACK 
 
 strength to the hostihty 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 almse 
 of his person inflicted upon him mortiiication so kc^eu 
 as that which he underwent from a woik 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 intoleraljle. Tliere 
 was no escape from its quiet but relentless exposure of 
 the carelessness he had displaced and of the blunders he 
 liad committed. In the numerous quarrels with which 
 Pope's life was diversified, nothing — with perhaps the 
 single exception of Gibber'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 
 ^^■llo had been the instrument of makinof him feel liis in- 
 feriority was folloAved 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 liis steps, tliat 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 tlieir possible untrustworthiness. 
 Even those persons who have been unwearied in ferreting 
 out the trulli in regard to his tortuous course in the case of 
 other men, liave l)een content to receive without ques- 
 tion and repeat without examination tjic numerous false 
 charfjes he brouGjht ag^ainst Theobald. 
 
 201
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 At the time, however, he made no undue haste to 
 beghi hostilities. In truth it was two years after the 
 pubhcation of ' Shakespeare Restored ' before he took 
 any public notice of the criticism which liis 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 autliors would have 
 suppressed liad 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 tlie 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 Avhen originally 
 published. No change in them worth mentioning could 
 be discovered. Hence the assumed necessit}' of repairing 
 the indiscretion of friends did not exist. If this be true, 
 it may be the reason mIi}' 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 ]\Iarch, 1728, 
 came out another volume of ' INIiscellanies,' 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 
 ' Fragment ' ^^•as afterward embodied with some mod- 
 ifications in the ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot.' But the real 
 firebrand tlirown 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.' BatJios, 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, Esq. ; 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- 
 man.' March 9, 172S.) 
 
 203
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 spelling designedly adopted to distinguish it from " the 
 profound." 
 
 The two men agfainst 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 liim 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 anytliing, 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 
 autliorship of the piece Pope frequently affected, but 
 never ventured really to dony.i In a newspaper adver- 
 tisement he had offered three guineas' reward for the 
 discovery of the person wlio had sent it to the press. 
 But liis 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 iti the BOte to ' The Puiiciad ' (4to of 1729, Book 
 2, 1. 250 ; modern editions, 1. 268) attacking Blackmore, Pope 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 couhl and 
 would be shown in his own handwriting. This and 
 another poem, entitled 'The Worms,' cannot be found 
 in editions of Tope's works : but he was constantly 
 taunted during his life with their authorship, of which 
 indeed there is no doubt. 
 
 l^lackmore's denunciation of both the editors had been 
 published about half a score of years previous to this 
 time. Ijut 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 bathos 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- 
 sibly written by Pope himself for tlie very purpose. 
 Not even was Shakespeare spared. These criticisms 
 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 tlie 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 arc 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 poetry occurred else- 
 where in the essay, taken from the play of ' Double 
 
 206
 
 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK 
 
 Falsehood," w hieli Pope ascribed to liiiii, 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 h)llo\\ ing- IMay 'The Dnn- 
 ciad' made its appearance tlie author, under the guise of 
 its publisher, gave as a leason for its production that for 
 every week for the two preceding months the town Jiad 
 been persecuted with pamphlets, advertisements, letters 
 and weekly es.sajs, not only against the wit and writings, 
 but against the character and person of JNlr. 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, compaied with tlie 
 provocation given, were exceedingly few. Not a single 
 pamphlet was published. All the articles of any nature, 
 whether in prose or verse, whether the briefest of [)ara- 
 graphs or the longest of letters, which appeared between 
 the dates of the ' Essay on the Profund ' and of ' The Dun- 
 ciad,' were collected soon after into a siugle 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 tlie 
 contemporary authors attacked were LJlackmore, Defoe, 
 Ducket, Aaron Hill, Ambrose Philips, Ward, and Wel- 
 sted. From not one of these nor from several others not 
 
 1 This play, in trutii, rarely receives even uow its exact title. It is 
 almost invariably called ' The Double Falsehood.' Eveu in Lowndes it 
 appears with the definite article prefixed. 
 
 207
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 here reeoided 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- 
 Suiythe — 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 unci ' with those 
 
 t/ 
 
 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- 
 "•rateful 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 
 Fenton, and by Fenton 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 fiiend, " 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." ^ 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 
 Avith 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 nothincr 
 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. 146, letter of April 7, 1728, from Fenton 
 to Broome. 
 
 14 209
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 of the language of the phiy he had edited. Indirectly he 
 may be said to have furnished at once a species of reply. 
 It was, however, coincident Avith the publication of the 
 last ' Miscellany ' volume rather than a consequent of it. 
 That work had appeared in the lirst half of March. 
 About the middle of the same montli ' INIist's Journal '^ 
 printed a communication which inclosed a private letter 
 of Theobald's to a friend. Tlie letter Avas essentially a 
 continuation of the criticism which had already appeared 
 in ' Sliakespeare 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 tlie 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 Sliakespeare 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, wlien he bestows upon him 
 the hand of Miranda. In it he tells liim, in the text up 
 to this time received, that lie had given liim " a third " 
 of his own life. Theobald changed ' third ' to ' thread.' 
 About the advisability of this alteration, opinion has been 
 divided from the beginning. Some editors accejjt it, 
 others follow the original. But no such diversity of 
 opinion has befallen the next two. They have been sub- 
 
 1 No. 152, March 16, 1728. 
 
 210
 
 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK 
 
 etantially adopted in all editions since the time of their 
 first appearance. One of these gives a further illustra- 
 tion of that conjectural sagacity wliich Tlieobald 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." ^ 
 
 As dates are never a later insertion in bonds, Theobald 
 chanoed 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 ratlier 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." ^ 
 
 So read the editions of Rowe and Pope; it was their 
 correction of tlie '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 Timou, act ii., scene 1. ^ Act i., scene 4. 
 
 211
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 who was described in Plutarch's life of Coriolaims as hav- 
 iiio^ ijiven utterance to the views of the soldier which were 
 here expressed. Of course tliis 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 thiidc 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." ^ 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 
 'Troilus and Cressida.' In the course of the speech in 
 which Agamemnon recounts to Diomed the reverses of 
 the Greeks, lie says among other things, 
 
 " The dieadful 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 cd., eud of vol. viii., under ' Various Read- 
 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 Avas 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 sliotte 
 well with a bowe: this beste made the Grekes sore 
 afrede, and slow many of them Avith 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. Tlie reference to the undoubted original was 
 the immediate cause of his speaking in 'The Dunciad' of 
 Tlieobald as stuffing his brain 
 
 " With all such reading as was never read." ^ 
 
 In the note to another line of tliis same work he spoke 
 contemptuously of the boast called Sagittary which 
 Theobald " would have Shakespear to mean rather 
 than Teucer, the archer celebrated by Homer." ^ 
 
 These are specimens of emendations which in Pope's 
 
 1 Dunciad, 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 Bentley. 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 wliicli 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 lly-catching 
 practised by swallows or as displaying the characteristics 
 of eels who Avrap 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 — whii;h took any 
 notice of the reflections cast by Pope up<»n 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, lia.d his opponent been on the 
 same level of repute as himself, would never have met 
 with anything but unqualified commendation. It is 
 disrnified in tone throuq-hout. There is in it no abuse 
 of his assailant, nor any exhibition of undue sensitive- 
 ness to the attack Avhicli 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 hne 
 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 bnt 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.' " ^ 
 
 Theobald's reply to this sally is a good illustration 
 both of the extent of his reading and of the acumen 
 which he liad 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, eh. vii. 
 
 215
 
 THE TEXT OF 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.^ 
 
 It is worth while to remark that one of the examples he 
 gave — that from the Hercules JFurens 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 ]\Iagazine,' who 
 wrote under the signature of JEneanasensis, informed 
 the world that this celebrated line with its palpable ab- 
 surdity had after all only the secondary merit of being 
 a literal translation.^ Neaily 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.^'' ^ A controversy 
 arose at once as to the priority in pointing out the orig- 
 inal of this verse. The claims of iEneanasensis — who 
 
 1 Tliedbald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 187. The passage from Seueca 
 
 reads as follows : 
 
 " Qureris AlcidiS parem? 
 
 Nemo est, nisi ipse." 
 
 2 Gentleman's Magazine, November, 1780, vol. 1. p. .507. 
 
 3 Warton's Tope, vol. vi. p. L>20. 
 
 216
 
 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK 
 
 turned out to be the Reverend Mr. Kynaston ^ — were 
 vigorously set forth. It was a characteristic of tlie 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 Enghsh drama- 
 tists. These he quoted. The citations drove Pope 
 into a corner out of wliich 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) Shakesi)ear's. But 
 whether the line be his or not, lie proves Shakespear 
 to have written as bad."^ 
 
 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 729. 
 
 2 Book 3, 1. 272, quarto of 1729. Neither line nor note is iu editions 
 of ' The Dunciad,' 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, liowever, began to study with more care their 
 own literature, to say nothing of the literature oL" 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 whicli it had been assigned. 
 Gifford 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 
 
 ^ Act iv., scene 3. 
 
 218
 
 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK 
 
 moment laboring under the consequences of his imagined 
 defeat." i 
 
 But in his letter Theobald did not limit himseK to 
 the defensive. He incidentally brouglit in an emenda- 
 tion of Shakespeare wliich 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. How trivial it 
 is, the example itself shows, whether we accept it or 
 reject it. In ' The Merchant of Venice,' a part of Gra- 
 tiano's speecli 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, I beheld the maid : 
 You lov'd : I lov'd for intermission. 
 No more pertains to me, my lord, than you."^ 
 
 Pope had substantially followed the reading found in 
 the fourth folio and adopted from it by 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, explicitl}' rejected. 
 "Surely," he wrote, "lie " (tliat is, Pope) " will liardly 
 persuade us that intermission here means ' for want of 
 something else to do, because he would not stand idle.'" 
 
 1 Gifford's Massiuger, vol. 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. 
 
 TJie 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 
 responsil)le for words he never wrote and opinions he 
 never expressed. This communication to 'Mist's Jour- 
 nal ' is Theol)ald's only reply, so far as we know, to the 
 attack made upon him in the ' Miscellanies ' before the 
 pubUcation of ' 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.' ^ It 
 wounded Pope deeply. There were things said in it 
 
 1 Mist's Journal, Maroli ."0, 1T2S. Tliis article must not he con- 
 founded with the ])ani])hlet wliich came out later, — in August, 1728, — 
 entitled ' A Supplement to the Profund,' and attributed hy Pope to 
 Coucaneu. 
 
 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 ophiions 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 
 ' 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, . . . ^vritten by one who has studied and understands 
 him." 1 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 has 
 least studied and are most likely to miscarry under liis 
 hands. He must in revising forget to discharge the 
 dull duty of an editor, and make it impossible to deter- 
 mine whether his errors are due to ignorance or to rapid- 
 ity of execution. He must lend his name for a good 
 sum of money to promote the discredit of an exorbitant 
 
 1 Fenton to Broome, April 3, 172S, Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 143. 
 
 221
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 subscription. He must misapprehend the meaning of 
 passages in Greek which lie lias sought to turn into 
 English. On the other hand, in his own tongue he 
 must wrest the lang^uaGre 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- 
 cellau}^ 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 " profund 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 
 tins 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 tlie one which irritated liim 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-
 
 POPE'S PRELIMINARY ATTACK 
 
 ber, 1731, with this voiy matter in iniud, he wrote to 
 Tonson that he had suffered not a httle on tliat pub- 
 lisher's account, by one lie of Theobakl's venting. ^ No 
 positive evidence can be secured either for or against 
 this ascription of the authorship. If Theobakl Avere 
 really the writer of the essay, he Avould 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 liim 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 
 forthcominof 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. j). 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 luid 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 tlie 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 liini with 
 what might be deemed sufticient 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 ^Liy, 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 
 
 THE ORIGINAL ' DUNCIAD ' 
 
 ' The Duuciad ' 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 fact that the 
 individuals and incidents that excite the real or assumed 
 indignation of the autlior 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 ' The Duuciad,' 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 Avhich lifted it out of the region of the particuhir 
 into that of the universal. 
 
 This is all true of ' The Dunciad ' in its original form. 
 It is altoo-ether 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 Gibber for Theobald as its hero utterly 
 destroyed 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. 'I'he result it- 
 self has shown the folly of the action taken. The change 
 of heroes is the main reason why ' 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 
 o-reatest literary production to which Shakespearean con- 
 troversy has given bh-th. 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 CoUey Gibber'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. 
 
 ' Tlie 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 
 wliich 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 — especiall}^ the first 
 book — against Theobald and his metliod of editing, the 
 controversy about Shakespeare became involved with 
 the innumerable other quarrels in which I*ope 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 ' 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 bearinc: the same name, includiiif^ 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, were necessarily swept away 
 when Gibber was made hero in his place. 'J'he 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. Ver}^ 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 
 wliich 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 consistent with 
 any clear understanding of the circumstances which are 
 
 228
 
 THE ORIGINAL 'D if NCI AD' 
 
 to be niuTated. The fuii(l;iuiciiL;il distiiu'tioii between 
 the work in its original and in its present i'orni must bo 
 kept steadily in view. ' The Duneiad,' as the modern 
 reader finds it, is a jjoem in four books, with Colley Gib- 
 ber as its hero, and Tlieobald 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 INIay, 1728, in a small 
 duodecimo volume. No name was on the title-^iage 
 except that of the publisher, A. Dodd. This was a 
 bookseller whose place of business is put down in 
 other volumes in which lie or slie was concerned as 
 " without Temple Bar,"' The frontispiece represented 
 an owl holding in his beak a label having on it the 
 woi"ds "Tlie Duneiad," and perched upon a pile of 
 books. This was built up of tlie 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 ; ^ in tlie 
 book itself this particular misstatement was implied, but 
 not asserted. Furtlier, special notice was given that the 
 
 1 E.fj: "This day is published The Duneiad. An lieruic I'oem. 
 The second edition. Dublin printed; Loudon, reprinted for A. Dodd. 
 Price 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 May 20, speaks of the work being 
 out, but says that he had not seen it. Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 235. 
 
 OOQ
 
 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 publislied in Ire- 
 land. An additional motive was to convey tlie 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. Wlien the following year Pope brought 
 out ' 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. Tliis 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 whicli ap- 
 peared almost contemporaneously with 'The Dunciad.' 
 " Swift," it added, " had mauled Theobald, but Theobald 
 had mauled Pope." ^ 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 
 originall}^ 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 ' JNIiscellanies.' 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, I>ut 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 it had been publislied 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 yeai". 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 u^d till tiie 
 latter half of the nineteenth century. 
 
 ' Tlie 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 efiven or the ini- 
 tial letter only. The liero, 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 knoAvn, as some of the scandal sucfsfested 
 rather than asserted could liardly be said to be known 
 at all, it was inevitable that public curiosity should be 
 much jMqued and that mistakes should be occasionally 
 made. 
 
 Blunders were committed w hen even the first and last 
 letters of the name were giA'cn. A gross one occurred 
 in the Dublin reprint of the original which came out
 
 TitE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD* 
 
 the same year. In one line of the first book the goddess 
 of Duhiess is represented as having seen " furious 
 
 1) n foam." ^ A Key which soon appeared exphiined 
 
 this as meaning the somewhat noted pubUsher, Dunton, 
 whom Pope subsequently described in a note as " a 
 broken bookseller and abusive scribbler." ^ 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 tlic 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 tlie 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 Dunciad, 1728, Book 1, 1. 01. 
 
 2 Note to line 136, Book 2, quarto of 1729 ; lino 144 in modern editions. 
 
 233
 
 THE TEXT OE 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.^ From 
 his house came successive editions of it which were 
 made to correspond witli 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 exceedingl}^ 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 wlio weve 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 tlie Duneiad. I liave been 
 asked for one by several; I wish the true one was come out." (Lord 
 Oxford to Pope, in letter dated May 27, 1728, Tope'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. Tins 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 tlic 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 propert}^ 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 montlis which had elapsed between the ' INIiscel- 
 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 
 
 235
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 large. Furtliermore, a work wliicli 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 fi-om Pope's writings — amounting l)y 
 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 tlie 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
 
 TJIE ORIGINAL ' DUNCTAD' 
 
 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 tlie 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 caiTying 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 whicli 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 animalcukim 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 tlie 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." ^ 
 
 This small duodecimo of 1728, without author's name 
 and practically without connnentary, Avas consequently 
 put forth as a feeler. IE 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, tlie precaution was wholly un- 
 
 1 Daily Journal, May 11, 1728. 
 
 238
 
 THE ORIGINAL 'DUNCIAD' 
 
 necessary. The reception the work met showed Pope 
 that lie had nothing to fear from tlio indin'crence 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 Avould have 
 averted failure even had the wit been less. Nor, 
 further, h;id there been neglect to appeal to the innate 
 nastiness of human riature by descriptions which it was 
 disgraceful to Avrite and which still remain disgusting 
 to read. 
 
 All doubt about the complete success of the work was 
 at once removed. Ou every side it produced comment, 
 inquiry, indignation. Every one interested in lite ratine 
 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.^ 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. Tliis does 
 uot 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 Avhich the last line is 
 Pope's, reads as follows: 
 
 " (He) as a herd 
 Of goats and tiin'rous flocks togetlier tlironged 
 Drove them before liiui Tliuuderstruck, pursued 
 Into the vast Troiuiid." 
 
 A few days later — on June 8 — followed the advertise- 
 ment of the third edition. These were not all which 
 came out this year. Poj^e himself in his correspondence 
 spoke of the five surreptitious editions which appeared 
 before the quarto of 1729; and in the list lie probably 
 did not include the reprint published in Ireland.^ 
 
 1 What and liow many editions there were of 'The Duufiad' iu 1728 
 are facts not yet definitely ascertaiued. Tiie list given from ' Notes and 
 Queries' in Elwin and Courthope's ' Works of Tojje,' vol. iv. pp. 299-301, 
 numbers five; hut included are the Dul)lin 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 tiie first book in the quarto 
 of 1729 — which for " glad chains " reads " gold chains." " The ignorance 
 of these moderns ! " runs the note on (jlad chains. " This was altered in 
 one edition to ' Gold Chains,' showing more regard to the metal of which 
 the cliains of aldermen are made, than to the beauty of the Latinism and 
 Grecism, nay of figurative speech itself. — Lalas setjetcs, glad, for making 
 glad, &c. — ScK." 
 
 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 " 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 corresj)ond to the C. C. mentioned iu 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 liave 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. INIost 
 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 
 16 241
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEAllE 
 
 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 Avrote in 
 INIarch, 1729, tliat 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.^ At the very time this letter was 
 written the work had been advertised as publislied,- 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 ' 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 Wali:)ole ; and 
 some days after the whole impression was taken and dis- 
 persed by several noblemen and pei'sons of the first dis- 
 
 1 Letter of March 18, 1729, in Nichols, vul. ii. p. 209. 
 
 - " This week is published in a beautiful letter in quarto, A Compleat 
 and Correct Edition of the Dunciad, with the I'role^omena, etc., etc. 
 Printed for A Uod, near Temple Bar." ('London Gazette,' No. 67GO, 
 Tuesday, March 11, to Saturday, March 15.) 
 
 242
 
 ' THE DUNCIAD' OF 1729 
 
 tinction.^ " 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 tlie 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.^ 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 ' 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 tlie frontispiece Avas 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 tlie 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 connnentary, several other pieces. 
 
 1 Dedication to the Earl of Middlesex of a Colleetiou of Pieces pub- 
 lished ou Occasiou of the Duuciad, p. vi. 
 « Ibid. 
 
 24a
 
 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 tlie 
 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 no^\^ it was perfectly well 
 known then, save to the thick-and-thin partisans of 
 the poet, that it was Avritten by Pope himself. The 
 notes were in some instances pretendedly pliilological, 
 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 metliods he had employed 
 in establishing the text of Shakespeare. 
 
 The very opening note of tlie commentary is a fair 
 example of the nature of these attacks. It is on the 
 title given to tlie 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, wlio 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 DUN CI AD' OF 1729 
 
 had two elaborate notes on the proper way of spelling 
 the title. Tiiey 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 tlie omission of one, nay sometimes of two 
 «g's (as Shak'spear) which is utterly unpardonable." 
 It may be added that the spelling of tlie name without 
 the final e was followed also in the editions of Hanmei- 
 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 Tlieobald's labors ; to convey the 
 impression tliat 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 oi" hi.s own generation, 
 they would serve now only to reveal his deplorable lack 
 of insight into tlie 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 tlie appendix was further contained a specimen of 
 a Latin treatise by Scriblerus, styled VlrylUus llestau- 
 ratas. This 'Virgil Restored' of Scriblerus was of course 
 intended as a satire upon the title of Tlieobald's previous 
 criticism of I'ope's edition of the dramatist, though it 
 may likewise have been aimed indirectly at Bentley. It 
 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. Tlie 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 tlie errata had been pur- 
 posely introduced into tlie text for the puipose 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
 
 'THE 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 
 daring 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 ])ul)lished 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 desi<rns 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 l)een employed by that writer. They 
 were the ones which had enabled him to rise. lie im- 
 plied that it was because he in turn had emj)loyed 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 tiling. 
 
 In this new enterprise, about to be related, of attract- 
 ing* attention to his work, he was not orioinal. 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 Avork 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 Lyon^ and of Prevost. No sooner 
 were they both on the market than the latter put 
 forth an advertisement in whicli 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, 1728. 
 
 248
 
 'THE DUN CI AD' OF 1729 
 
 — the one in quarto and the one in octavo — had been 
 castrated. Voltaire at once came ont with a protest. 
 He had granted no such privilege as claimed. It was 
 something unlieard 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.^ 
 
 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 advertisincj columns of the ' London Post,' ' Loudon Journal,' and 
 ' The Craftsman ' duriut^ the latter part of Marcli, 1728, and suliscquently. 
 The advertisement anuouuciug the reconciliation of the two parties can bo 
 found in ' The Craftsman ' for June 1. 
 
 249
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the public. He 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 liardihood and directness 
 in carrying out his schemes. lUit 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 sincfle one recommended itself as an 
 example worth imitating. He proceeded at once to 
 imitate it, and it was in the following fashion tiiat the 
 tiling was done. 
 
 The editions of 17'28 had been printed for A. Dodd. 
 The quarto of 1729 bore on its title page tlie 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." ^ Tliis would indi- 
 cate that the work came from the publishing-house 
 from which liad proceeded the editions of the year 
 before. Thitlier accordingly expecting purchasers would 
 resort ; there the work would doubtless be found. The 
 omission in the advertisement of one of the cFs of the 
 name would be regarded as merely an error of the press. 
 But when the quarto actually made its appearance and 
 tlie name of tlie publislier 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 uote to page 242. 
 
 250
 
 'THE DUNCIAD' OF 1720 
 
 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. Dod, 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. Ho 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 ' Chi-hoamte ' instead 
 of ' Chi-hoamti ' in tlie Index of Persons. Again, it fol- 
 lowed it in placing against line 163 of Book II the figures 
 165, and consequently made the succeeding numbering all 
 wrono' as well as the whole number of lines contained in 
 the book. Not even were the errata given in the quarto 
 corrected. Tlie volume had also prefixed the frontispiece 
 of the ass laden witli volumes. 
 
 Shortly after Dob's edition appeared, came out another. 
 It differed from the previous octavo in tjqie and general 
 appearance.^ It bore on its title-page the name of Lawton 
 
 1 This is tlie edition which Pope refers to in his letter of Oct. 9, 1729 
 (' Works,' vol. vii. p. ir)8). ■ In it he say.'^, " Yon will find the octavo rather 
 more correct than the quarto, with some additions to tlie 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 impoi'tance. Tlie corrections indicated by the 
 errata of the previous editions were here made. Still, 
 Pope was unwilling to \vAvt 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 cre[)t into 
 the text of tlie Greelv and Latin passages that liad 
 been cited. This gave \\m\ 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 liis 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 reff r to tlic lator edition of this same year, as 
 is said by Courtlioiie in the note to tliis letter. 'J'iiat, wliicli bears on tlio 
 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 sliop 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 disa[ipeared from any further 
 connection with ' The Duneiad ' save that in some of the 
 Gilliver octavos his name is found with a slii^htlv 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 l)c so material, he coukl 
 further furnish printed separatel}'. These would be given 
 gratis to all persons who had Ijought or might here- 
 after buy tlie octavo printed by himself. From liim 
 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. In 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.^ 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.^ 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 " ^A'ith some additional 
 notes. " It corresponded very closely in its typography 
 with his previous octavo edition. At the outset, in 
 fact, its pagiug was precisely the same, reproducing 
 even the eri'or by which the numbering of pages 19 
 to 24 was repeated. Its coming was announced some 
 time before it came.^ It was advertised in September 
 
 1 Tliis controversy was carried on in tlie colnmns of the ' Daily 
 Journal' and 'Daily Post' and doubtless in other papers. Gilliver's 
 attack on Dob can be found in the ' D.'uly Journal' of A|)ril 27, and 
 ' Daily Post ' of April 29 and April 30. Dob's counterblast in tlie 
 '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 iml>lis]iod. The Second Edition, with some 
 additional notes and epigrams, ' The Dunciad ' with notes Variorum, 
 and the Prolegomena of Scriblerus. Printed for Lawton Gilliver at 
 Homer's Head, etc." ('The Daily Post,' Wednesday, Sept. 10, 1729.) 
 From 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 
 
 fis 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. ^ 
 It was not till the end of November that the revised 
 work made its appearance. This is tlie edition of 
 which Pope Avrote 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." '^ 
 
 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 Avorks nobody could be ex- 
 pected to help others to read. AVith 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, Koome, Lurnet, Duckett — 
 against whom Pope entertained sentiments of hostility. 
 These took largely the form of epigrams. In later 
 editions slidit 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 'The 
 Dunciad ' in its final form. A statement to that effect 
 may be said to have been implied in the declaration 
 
 in whie'li 'The Dunciad,' second edition, is the fifty-sixth of sixty-four 
 entries. 
 
 1 Letter uf Oct. 25, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 248. 
 
 2 Pope to Swift, letter of Nov. 28, 1729, Pope's ' Works,' vol. vii. p. 172. 
 
 255
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 purporting to have been nuide by the author before 
 the mayor of London on the third of January, 1732, 
 which was appended to the hiter editions. This as- 
 serted that the poem, in the authentic form here given, 
 contained " the entire sum of one thousand and twelve 
 lines." It strictly enjoined and forbade any person or 
 persons to change directly or indirectly any Avoid, 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 tlien 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, wliich 
 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 i-egarded as authentic, Avas not true of any edi- 
 tion of it ever published. He gave it as ten hundred and 
 
 256
 
 'THE ]) UNCI AD' OF i:Ji) 
 
 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, followed by the later 
 ones, of ten hundred and eighteen. 
 
 17 257
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD ' 
 
 For more than half a century scholars have deV-oted 
 time and labor to clearing up 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. 
 
 Tliis 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 Hterature of the 
 period. Statements are regnhirly made concerning ' The 
 Dunciad ' which, even if tliey 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 ' Tlie Dunciad ' have been 
 disposed of wliich have had Avide vogue for a century 
 and a half. I'hey are three in number. One of tliem 
 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. Tliere may be 
 justification for this wholesale view ; but it is attended 
 with tlie 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 tlioy 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 suffi- 
 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. INIerit 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 Avith their morals, tliat we have to 
 deal. Some of them may have been justly liable to all the 
 charges brought against them by Pope and liis partisans ; 
 but that fact, if true, does not prove them to be dunces. 
 Theophilus Gibber, for instance, seems to have been a 
 man whose cliaracter 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 iiiiikiiig him an object of attack, had 
 still occasional glimpses of the ahsurdit}^ of so designat- 
 ing him. In the addition to a note npon him Avhich ap- 
 peared first in the Gilliver octavo of 1720 ^ he relented 
 so far as to remark that Daniel Defoe "had parts." Yet 
 even tliis seems to have been added to make more effec- 
 tive the attack npon liis 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 every reader's intelligence. But 
 who that is familiar with English literature would a})[)ly 
 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 Avhom 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 
 his mind a certain dread. 
 
 Or take the eccentric, not to say half-crazy, Eustace 
 Budgell. A man wlio was permitted by Steele and 
 
 1 Book 1, line 101 ; nioderu editious, liue 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 tlie 
 poets, he gave wide circulation and permanent accep- 
 tance to derogatory stories wliich in some cases hardly 
 rose to the dignity of gossij). For illustration, Budgcll 
 wrote the epilogue to Ambrose Philips's play of ' The 
 Distrest Mother,' founded upon the A^idromaque 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 a[)parently 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 was 
 the real composer of the piece. Johnson tells us that 
 Garrick told him that it Avas 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 sliglitest respect need be paid 
 to it. The epilogue is not in the least a remarkable 
 production. Tliere 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 DUNCIAD' 
 
 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 tlie 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 ever}- trick 
 characteristic of the charlatan, but he clearly inust have 
 been possessed of abilities of a certain sort. 
 
 Even more marked is the case of lialph. He was 
 possibly, and perhaps probably, not a person of tlie higli- 
 est character. 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 
 
 263
 
 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 Ilallam de- 
 scribes as " the most diligent historian we possess of the 
 time of Charles II." Or take the case of dramatists. 
 Charles Johnson was in liis own age a generally success- 
 ful playwriglit. He was charged l)y his enemies Avith 
 having taken from other authors most of wliat he put 
 forward as his own, and of then having forgotten to ac- 
 knowledge his indebtedness. If true, this course of con- 
 duct im[)lies 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 tlie al)ility (^f tlie 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 utterl}^ malignant. He who is willing to 
 take the pains to render himself even slightly familiar 
 witli 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 tliat which is done to-da3\ 
 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
 
 ERHORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD^ 
 
 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 Avho are making a special study of the political 
 history of that period. Sncli is the fate of all party- 
 writing. The themes whicli 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 tlie 
 sli^Thtest, w^e naturally care not for what is said about 
 them. Wliat is written is to us, tlKu-efore, necessarily 
 dull. But it is not necessarily didl in itself. Still less 
 was it dull to the men of the time whose convictions it 
 expressed and to wliose passions it api)oaled. None of 
 the journalists of that day w'e re great men; but several 
 were distinctly a])le 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 l)y 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 ho devoted himself to that occupation, he was 
 both able and effective. Theobald's criticism of Pope's 
 Shakespeare had excited his admiration. It led him to 
 express of it a high opinion before he knew personally 
 
 265
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 its author. Acquaintance tended to increase the fa- 
 vorable estimate which he had ah-eady formed of the 
 commentator's powers. This naturally would not rec- 
 ommend him to l*o])e ; but he drew upon himself the 
 poet's bitter resentment by a review he wrote of the 
 ' Miscellanies.' "We must keep in mind that in those i^ays 
 'Miscellany' was the title regularly given to collections 
 of hitherto unprinted 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 tliey 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.^ He 
 remarked that when he found that the greatest part of 
 the pieces thus publislied already existed in an octavo 
 volume, and that the rest were very common either in 
 single pamphlets or in old collections, he 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 foUow^ed 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 publislied himself. He could 
 not therefore understand the motive which had induced 
 
 1 Letter in the ' British Journal,' No. 270, Nov. 25, 1727. 
 
 266
 
 ERHORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD* 
 
 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 Po[)e 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 by 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 
 tlie 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 See 'Grub-Street Journal,' No. .32, Aug. 13, 1730; No. 35, Sept. 3, 
 1730; No. 38, Sept. 24, 17;?0; and No. 138, Aug. 24, 1732. IMost if not 
 all of these articles were pretty certaiuly written by Pope himself. 
 
 207
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the author of a treatise which appeared, in August, 1728, 
 entitled ' A Supplement to tlie Profund.' This was 
 largely given up to examples o-f 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 derogator}^ estimate the poet expressed of 
 his adversaries that Warton tells us that this wprk dis- 
 plays so much ability tliat it is likely Concanen had in 
 its preparation the aid of Warburton, with whom he 
 was at that time on tei'ms of peculiar intimacy,^ 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 tliat 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 Walp(jle. Concanen has already been 
 mentioned. Both llorncck 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. lloome." ^ 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 deatli in 
 1761. 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 1711 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 
 
 ' 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 
 ill tlie faith. They were shocked and indignant if any 
 one put forth views which Avere not of the regulation 
 pattern. Pope fully shared in tliis 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 liad 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 tlie quarto edition of 1729, Wool- 
 ston was designated as "an impious madman." ^ By tlie 
 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 ; iu modern editions, line 212. 
 
 270
 
 ERRORS ABOUT ' THE D UNCI AD' 
 
 entitled ' (Jiklon and Woolston against Christ.' It is 
 liardly 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 ' The Dunciad ' 
 Avere possessed of only ordinary abilities is unquestion- 
 able. It is ecpially true tiiat 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 
 has 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 Avrote 
 in his defence. These were men whose works he held 
 up to honor. Had they been on the other side they 
 would have held a prominent [)lace in the roll of those 
 he delio'hted to call dunces. 
 
 No flimsier structure has 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 eqnally 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 lono- time ruled. To him had succeeded 
 
 o o 
 
 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." ^ 
 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
 
 ERliORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD' 
 
 from any revelation tliey make of the fate wliicli befell 
 the authors he attacked, l^nt 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 ' The Dunciad ' scarcely a twelve- 
 month w^ent 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 ' 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 infei'ence to assume 
 that it was typical. Yet mainly on tlie strength of it all 
 the other authors assailed have been described as living 
 in a constant state of anxiety for fear that neither pul> 
 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 ' 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 lie tried luiixl to solace hiinselC with the belief that 
 the hostile reception one of his plays met was due to the 
 influence of Pope.^ Even a more signal illustration of 
 the powerlessness of tliis attack npon 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 INIary 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 
 ]\Irs. 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 
 w'as far hiu'her than it was at the time the satire itself 
 appeared. 
 
 The case of (]ooke, usually termed Ilesiod 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 furnishing 
 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 
 
 1 Preface to ' Medx-a,' 1731. 
 275
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 seen, to May, 1728. In it there was the folio wmg 
 
 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 defniitely 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 Dunciad,' which speedily followed, 
 settled the question for those who were ignorant. 
 Cooke's offence had not been a very flagrant one. In 
 1725 Avhen he had but little more than reached his ma- 
 joiity 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, CoUey 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 mth him Welsted, 
 whom he detested. It represented Ambrose Philips as 
 carrying off in triumph tlie 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.^ There was 
 1 " lu merit great, but greater far in fame," p. 78 (ed. of 1725). 
 
 276
 
 ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD' 
 
 another passage which was even more ollensive. Dennis, 
 " the modern author's dread," was described as ranging 
 round the field fur 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 w^ords that the poet is addi-essed by the redoubt- 
 able critic : 
 
 " Next to their niiglity chief he turned his eye, 
 By whom lie saw the deathless Grecian lie; 
 And Shakespeare stood, stuj^endous 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." ^ 
 
 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, it' 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 ' The Battle of the 
 Poets' — a poem of wliich he declared he was sincerely 
 ashamed. There seems little doubt that he had come 
 to look upon it not only as a boyish i)erfor]nance, but 
 as one not very creditable to his judgment even as a 
 boy, Avhicli 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 })ieces 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 ud manly. 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 hatl the man he was addressing. 
 But in the former chiss lie 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.i 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 tlie 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 tlie 
 preface to it. He was taunted with secretly flinging 
 dirt at both friend and foe, and with the mercenary 
 motives l)y which he liad been influenced in his literary 
 labors.2 It is evident tliat Cooke's publisher had not 
 
 1 Book 2, 1. 130; in modern editions, 1. ISS. 
 - " Wlio l)etter knows tlian I his dust to tiirow ? 
 To wound in secret either friend or foe ? 
 
 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 personallj' 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 crentleman sent letters to Mr. P. in the strong- 
 est terms protesting his innocence." ^ But Cooke, like 
 Pharaoh of old, hardened his heart. In the edition of 
 his poems wliicli ap})eared 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.^ 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 ono sense more successful, than during 
 the three or four years following the publication of 
 '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. 
 Everything 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 spiiit displayed in them is as defiant and 
 uncompromising as if he were the most contemptible of 
 adversaries. 
 
 The epigrams and articles with winch the newspaper 
 press abounded may be neglected. Some of these 
 indeed wounded 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 ' 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 Avas openly avowed or was speedily ascertained. 
 The appearance of ' The Dunciad ' in May was followed 
 by the ' Sawney ' of Ralph in June ; in July b}^ 'Remarks 
 on the Rape of the Lock ' by Dennis, which, written long 
 before, had been withheld from publication; further, in 
 the same month by ' Tlie Metamorphosis ' of Dean 
 Smedley, showing the change of Scriblerus into Snarl- 
 erus ; in August, by this last writer's ' Alexandriana,' in 
 whicli 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 Waid. Some of these were 
 wretched productions ; others were sufficiently vituper- 
 ative to have a certain interest; but none of tlieir 
 writers had been awed by the prospect of annihilation, 
 and there was clearly no difficulty in securing the j)ub- 
 lication of the poorest of them. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the assumed liavoc wrought by 
 Pope with tlie 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 tlieir prospects or fortunes. There is no question 
 that a large and powerful body of the public sympa- 
 thized at the outset with the jnen 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 dis[)0sed to underrate the dread he 
 inspired, was conscious of the futility of his efforts 
 aeainst 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 tlie 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 ' 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 has been attended with 
 consequent loss of faith. Yet thougli 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 wliich 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 liaving 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, relvino; 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 tlie satire in the shape of a 
 note to the original preface. There it followed the ac- 
 count he furnislicd of the clamor aroused by his inno- 
 cently putting down, in Ins 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 lie 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 wliich 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 ' JMiscellanies.' " This gave Mr. Pope the thought," 
 
 284
 
 ERRORS ABOUT ' THE DUNCIAD' 
 
 ran tlie 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. He 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. Tliis it was that gave 
 birth to the Duneiad., 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." ^ 
 
 Nobody wlio has read the account already given of 
 the circumstiinces under wliieh 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 tlie intelligent and unintellio'ent of later times. 
 His contemporaries recognized fully that it was nothing 
 Ijut Tlieobald's review of his edition of Shakespeare that 
 led Pope to complete the })oeni he had long been con- 
 templating, and to change the character of Avhat had al- 
 ready been prepared. The poet's adversaries naturally 
 had no hesitation iu proclaiming this view in the plain- 
 
 ^ Appeuilix to Ululated duodecimo edition of 'The Duuci.ad ' (17.34), 
 p. 232. 
 
 285
 
 TFIE 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. Fipally 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. " Tlie hero of his 
 farce," wrote another, " was the man wlio 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 P'heobald'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 
 wJiicli he had been abused l)efore the publication of that 
 satire. They were tlie ostensible reasons for its compo- 
 sition. Of these eighteen three had come out after the 
 attacks he had made upon various authors in liis 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 1)}' him before the publication of the first two 
 
 280
 
 ERRORS ABOUT ' THE DUNCIAD' 
 
 volumes of ' Miscellanies,' and but a single one before 
 the publication of tiie third. Of the books, there are 
 but two left upon ^vhich he could base any pretext for 
 his belated outburst of indignation. One was Cooke's 
 three-years-old poem entitled ' The Battle of the Poets.' 
 The other Avas 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 Dunciad ' was the one work which caused that 
 satire to be written. That, however, he was shut out 
 from specifying. lie could not pretend that Theobald's 
 criticism of his edition of Sliakespeare partook of the 
 nature of a personal attack. Tliere were in consequence 
 but two ways in which he could drag his name into the 
 collection of ' Testimonies of Authors ' wlio 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 was 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 wliat was implied by its lirst 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. 
 lie was on friendly terms with men whom the poet dis- 
 liked and eitlier despised or pretended to despise. In 
 his discussion of the text of Shakespeare he had spoken 
 in the hishest 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 sutricient 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 DUNCIAD' 
 
 course to be {(jllowcd with the Amalekitus. Not only 
 was Agiig to be shiiii, but all liis people ; not only man 
 and womtin, 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 niisre[)resenting 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 IJesiod ^ expressed his gratitude to 
 Theobald, in particular, for the assistance he liad ren- 
 dered. He had further said that whatever remarks he 
 had received from any of his friends, he had carefully 
 distinguished from liis own *'as a matter of justice to 
 those by whom he had been obliged." In accordance 
 with this practice he had in some instances pomted out 
 that certain notes or parts of certain notes wei-e 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." ^ 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. 
 
 " Note to Book 1, line 168, quarto of 1729, aud later. It is not found in 
 moderu editions. 
 
 19 289
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 The reason for making Theobald the hero of his satire 
 Avas 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 mau I sing." 
 The book Avas ' 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 Tlieobald 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 
 ' Books ' took the place of ' Book.' Here modern bibliog- 
 raphy has obligingly come to Pope's aid, and assures 
 us that the very lirst word of the poem — tlie one 
 wo]d 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 lias 
 never cared enough about the matter to examine either 
 
 290
 
 ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD' 
 
 their justice or their sufficiency. On one occasion he 
 observed that Tlieobakl was made the hero of the satire, 
 just as Eusden had been made poet-laureate, " because 
 there was no better to be liad."' ^ As this was not alto- 
 gether satisfactory, he gave as another reason that his 
 critic had concealed his design of reviewing tlie edition 
 of Sliakes[)eare, 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." ^ 
 
 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 Hue ,'519 of Book 3, (juarto of 1729 ; transferred to Hue 102 
 of Book 1, in the GilHver octavo of 1729 and later editions. Not in 
 modern editions. 
 
 2 Note to Hue 106 of Book 1, quarto of 1729 ; same with additions — 
 especially about Theobald having been concerned in the outcry against Pope 
 about the Shakespeare subscription — iu the Gilliver octavo of 1729 and 
 later editions. Not iu modern editions. 
 
 291
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 of private spite masking itself under the guise of public 
 virtue. Naturally he was occasionally niislecl. He 
 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 liis list of dunces the h3ann- 
 writer, Isaac Watts, and the rector of Epworth, Sanuiel 
 Wesley, the father of two far more famous sons. In the 
 complete edition Avhich 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 ' The Dun- 
 ciad ' Pope had not received provocation. During liis 
 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 obsciu'c person known only to the 
 critic himself. Any particular thing he fancied he had 
 
 292
 
 ERRORS ABOUT 'THE DUNCIAD' 
 
 discovered or bad for llio Ihvst time clearly set forth, he 
 had been assured was well known to everybody, only 
 nobody had tliought it worth while to coinnmnicate to 
 the public what was so generally accessible. In par- 
 ticular, a not uncommon charge against an author whose 
 meanins' often suffered from conciseness was that he was 
 altoGrether too diifuse. Innumerable details could have 
 been spared to the great advantage of the ])iece. 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 wlio 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 whicli 
 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 mucli 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 atttick 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
 
 CHAPTEIl XV 
 
 SHAKESrEAIlE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 If the treatise on ' 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 tliemselves, but the number of 
 these who kept silence. Mau}^, to be sm-e, were dead, 
 and could not reply. Some among the living — such as 
 Eusden and Blackmore — 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 hkn 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 
 ' 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, jNIoore-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 controvers}', 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 luiuble to understand a course 
 
 290
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 172S 
 
 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,^ " 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 tlie 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 whicli would be generally recognized ; 
 and to this sort of reply he purposed to limit himself. 
 One result of the publication of ' 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 whicli he had now 
 devoted himself would, he 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 had pro- 
 
 1 Letter of October 25, 1729, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 248. 
 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 wlio 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 tlie 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, oi- 
 rather an impression, that a monopoly of printing the 
 plays of Sliakespeare had accrued to the Tonsons. 
 From that pul)lishing 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, tliat 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 exiunination 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 172S 
 
 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 ' Donble 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 puljlish a complete series of 
 emendations of all the plays after the manner of the 
 work he liad 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 he 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 moi'e than the fruits of protracted and stupid 
 industry. Tlie 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 
 tliat 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 
 ' Miscellanies ' — called on its title-page " the last " ^ — 
 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 tlie 
 
 1 The volume of tlie ' Miscellanies ' called " the third " on its title-page 
 appeared in 1732. The 'Daily Journal' of October 5 aunouuces it as 
 " first published tliis day." 
 
 300
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 first Iliad of Homer.' ^ It was followed in the same 
 volume by an answer from a certain John Markland, 
 and the following passage, inlinitely inferior as it is 
 to any part of Pope's brilliant characterization, gives 
 some conception of the view which prevailed lai'gely 
 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: 
 
 " Sliould some more sober critics come abroad, 
 If wrong, I smile ; if right, I kiss the rod. 
 
 1 Cythereia, p. 90, No. XII. 
 
 301 
 
 )
 
 I 
 
 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; 
 
 Tlie 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 with 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 
 clunof 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 
 wliich excited Pope's indignation to a high degree. It 
 was dated from Gray's Inn the 29th of ISIay, and was 
 sicfued W. A.^ These letters chanced to be the initials 
 of tlie name of a somewhat noted political writer of the 
 period, WilUam Arnall, a man of no mean abilities. He 
 had had nothing to do with the composition of the piece, 
 and in all probability was entirely ignorant of its origin. 
 lUit ho huew enough of Pope to be well aware that 
 unless he cleared himself from all complicity with its 
 production he would have directed against him tlie hos- 
 tility of the greatest genius and most popular writer of 
 the day. He took pains, therefore, to disavow the author- 
 sliip 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 may 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. I'ope's patience gave way at last at 
 what he chose to call A mail's " most unexampled inso- 
 lence, impudent billingsgate language and personal abuse 
 of several great men, the poet's particular friends." '^ Ac- 
 cordingly in later editions he was given a place in ' The 
 Dunciad,' and in the opinion of Pope's biogra[)hers be- 
 came in consequence a dunce. 
 
 1 'Mist's Journal,' June S, 1728. 
 
 2 Duuciad, note to line '293 of Book 2, edition of 1735. In edition of 
 1743, note to line 315, with some omissions and other changes. 
 
 yo3
 
 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 liad 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 ' The Dunciad.' These, it was said, 
 liad been written by Pope '" to express his indignation 
 at the man who had supplied his defects without his 
 reward, and faithfull}" performed what himself under- 
 took and ouo'ht 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 Po[)e, as we shall see, 
 was speedily to join with another written l)y 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 Avith 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 
 
 301
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 172S 
 
 "Dennis, Theobald, and others."^ 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 ' The Dunciad ' down to the pres- 
 ent day. The association of men who met regularly to 
 assail Po[)e and his writings plays an important part in 
 the accounts criven 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 liostile 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 
 
 1 Dunciiid, (juarto of 1729, 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 Avhich 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 imj)racti- 
 cable," went on the letter- Avriter, " to expose any errors in 
 tliat 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 tlie 
 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 tlie least doubt of tliat 
 fact.i The apparent ground for imputing its composition 
 to Theobald was the high commendation it gave to his 
 work on Sliakespeare. 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, 
 ■yvhere the falsification is niiicli graver, tlie note is attached to line 133, 
 
 30G
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1738 
 
 letter he had taken no notice of the personal attacks 
 upon liimself 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 Fo^je 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, 
 liad been accomplished by him in establishing a correct 
 text of Shakespeare ; though lie 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 followiuGr 
 up his previous criticism. This declaration could not of 
 itself liave 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 JMr. Pope," Tlieo- 
 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, tliey will at least 
 have this : They will awaken him to some degree of 
 accuracy in his next edition of that poet wliich we are to 
 
 m
 
 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 wliich 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 liad led him to 
 give to tills 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 thom 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 Avords 
 and the character of his critic. He remembered to quote 
 tills 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 ' INIist's Journal ' appeared in 
 a note to the quarto of 1720, 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 consecjuently 
 vary materially from what Theobald had written. In the 
 note containing it he 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, ' That to expose any errors in it was imprac- 
 ticable.' And in another, April 27, ' That Avhatever 
 care for the future might be taken either by ]\Ir. P. or 
 any other assistants, he would still give above five hun- 
 dred emendations that shall escape them all.'' " ^ 
 
 There is a certain popuhir prejudice — from which in 
 justice to Pope here it must be said that he Avas every- 
 where invariably exempt — in favor of giving an author's 
 exact words when extiacts from his writings are enclosed 
 between (piotation marks. To say nothing of ascribing 
 to Theobald an assertion about his ' Shakespeare Re- 
 stored' Avliich had never come from him at all, the 
 variations between wliat 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 Duuciad, quarto of 1729. Note to Hue lOG of Tlook 1. The note 
 in this form is uot in modern editions ; in its changed form it is attaciied 
 to line 133. 
 
 309
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 accurate quotation. At tliat 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 tliem ; the 
 means of verifying them practically existed no longer. 
 Tlie observation contained in W. A.'s letter that it was 
 impracticable to point out any errors in ' Shakespeare 
 Ilestored' was now extended. That it should continue 
 to be imputed to Theobald was what might have been 
 expected. But it now ajjpeared as having been said by 
 him, not of this particular critical treatise, but of his edi- 
 tion of Sliakespeare, 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. 
 
 Tliis did fairly well as a falsification of something 
 which, th(^ugh not written by Theobald, was ascribed 
 to Jiim. I>ut it was ecjualled, if not surpassed, by the 
 further falsification of something whicli he had written. 
 The promise whicli 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, wtis no longer confined to that 
 work. It was extended to all editions yet to be brought 
 out by any one whomsoever. Theobald is I'cported as 
 having asserted " that whatever care miglit for the fu- 
 ture be taken by any other editor he would still give 
 above five hundred emendations that shall escape tliem 
 all." ^ This statement must have met with the implied 
 
 1 Duuciail, quarto of 1743 and latei- editions, uote to Book 1, line 133. 
 
 310
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 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 arc others yet to be given — that the 
 estimate taken of Tlieobald 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 ari'ogance. 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 liimself 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
 
 I 
 
 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 furtlier 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- 
 i)ig 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 cfaininG: 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 ap to party writing, which then 
 and long afterward among tlie 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 deliberatino' whether he should resume his ancient 
 profession of attorne}^, 
 
 " 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 T my pen consign, 
 
 Yes, from this moment, mighty ]\Iist ! am thine." ^ 
 
 There was a manifest intention to insinuate here that 
 Theobald was writing political 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. Tlie 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. Uoth 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 
 '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 indionant denial of an assertion intended 
 to injure him in his scheme of securing subscribers had 
 not the slightest effect u[)on Pope's action. No one 
 ever recognized more clearly than he the advantage of 
 
 1 Duuciail, ed. of 1728, Book 1, lines 181-184 ; ed. of 17-29, lines 191- 
 194; in modern editions^ lines 211-214, necessarily much clianged, as it 
 now refers to Gibber. 
 
 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 fortli. 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." ^ Tlie 
 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 enougli 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 lie 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 liope 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 Tliis note was omitted in the recast of 1743 and no longer appears. 
 
 314
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 In November of this year came out in eight duodecimo 
 volumes the second edition of Pope's Sliakespeare. 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 liis author. If he adopted them he would by 
 that very fact confess that lie liad been indebted for 
 the explanation of passages which he had failed to under- 
 stand to the very man whom lie had stigmatized as pre- 
 eminentl}^ 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 lie 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, 
 wliich he implied was very little. Then he 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 unsatisfactorj' 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 siiakespeare 
 
 does not hide the mortification which his criticism had 
 caused. " Since the pubhcation 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 j udged of any the least advantage to 
 the j3 oet; the whole amount ing 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 tlie whole ; at worst it can spoil but a half sheet 
 oi^)aper that chances to be left vacant here. And we 
 purpcf.se, for the future, to do the same with respect to 
 any other persons, ,)yho either thro' candor or vanity, 
 shall communicate! the least thinof tendincr to the illus- 
 tration of our author. We have here omitted nothing 
 but pointings and more 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 INIr. 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 daj^s when Theobald sent a letter to the 
 ' Daily Journal ' ^ commenting upon it and the remarks 
 contained at the end of it about himself. Tlie first sen- 
 
 1 November 2C, 1728. Theobald's letter is dated Nov. 23. 
 
 81G 
 
 ^^■■•^
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 tence of these he quoted in full. He referred to hisv 
 previous declaration in ' Mist's Journal ' in which, be- \ 
 fore this edition came out, he had promised that he I 
 would give over five hundred fair emendations that | 
 shoukl 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 liis cliallenge. He was therefore prepared to 
 more than fuliil 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 tlian those drawn from his own treatise/ 
 published two years before. According to the state- 
 ment found at its end, tlie number of what its editor had 
 called his critic's " attempts upon Shakespeare," tlrat 
 had been ado^jted by liim, amounted to " about " twent}^- 
 five words. Any reader, Theobald affirmed, wlio took 
 the pains to make the requisite examination, would iind 
 that Pope liad introduced into his text from ' Shake- 
 speare Restored' "about" a hundred of changes in ex- 
 pression, or clianges 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 wliich Pope had 
 adopted tlie more important corrections of words and 
 
 oil
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 phrases which lie had himself previously proposed. 
 They amounted to fifty-one in all.^ 
 
 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 
 tliat 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 author's 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 
 
 \K 1 The following are the pages in Theobald's first edition of Shake- 
 s]ieaie in which he specifies tiie adoption hy Poi»e 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, 27.3, 313, 432, 497 ; vol. iii. pp. 18, 39, 125, 192, 
 .378; vol. iv. pp. 49, 65, 225, 250, 509; v.d. v. pp. 12, 13, 18, 193, 243, 269, 
 284, 360, 426 ; vol. vi. pp. 19, 41, 76, 1 10, 216, 234, 382, 393, 405, 419, 4.39, 
 440 ; vol. vii. pp. 76, 90, 132, 141, 246, 257, 384. Compare also in this last 
 volume, paire 259. The.se, of course, are Theobald's own emendations ; 
 not his restorations, from the original editions, of the right reading which 
 had been overlooked by Pope. 
 
 CIS
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 that hitherto INIr. 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 lie 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 tlie 
 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 /or^rt/te ior fortress 
 in the speech of Octavian in ' Antony and Cleopatra ' ; ^ 
 of his want of reading proper authors to ascertain points 
 of history, in his substitution of hate for have in the 
 same play, wlien Sextus Pompey says to Antony, " You 
 have my father's house ; " ^ of his want of knowledge of 
 modern languages in leaving unamended the corrupt 
 Italian in ' Love's Labor 's Lost ' ; ^ of his want of judg- 
 ment in correcting his author's text by his following the { 
 
 1 Act iii., scene 2. " Act ii., scene 7. 
 
 3 Act iv., scene 2. Theobald in his own edition printed tiiis Italian 
 quotation as follows : Vineijia, Vincgia 1 qui non te vedi, ei non ie pregia 
 (vol. ii. p. 130, ed. of 173.'5). In this letter, however, it reads as follows : 
 Venezia, Venezia, die non ti vedi, ei non ti preziaa. In the folio of 1623 
 the following was the reading : vemchie, vencha, que non te vnde, que non ie 
 perreche. Poj)e followed Rowe and the later folios in printing it, Vtitechi, 
 venache a, qui non te vide, i non ie pinerh. Theobald's Italian could have l)een 
 improved ; but there was no difhculty in ascertaining from it the meaning. 
 
 819
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 old copies in ' Henry VIII.' ^ and so representing Car- 
 dinal Wolsey as being a scholar, and a ripe and good 
 one, from liis cradle ; and in ' Henry V.' ^ of his want of 
 sagacity in restoring the text by reading " abounding 
 valor" instead of "a bounding valor." Further, he 
 23ointed out that the story of ' Hamlet,' of the origin of 
 which Pope professed his ignorance, came from the 
 Historia Dariica of Saxo Gramniaticus. 
 
 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 beino- in one sense his own. He 
 
 O 
 
 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 1G23 ; just as 
 in his ignorance of its occurrence in that same work he 
 had previously altered guided to gilded in ' The jMerry 
 Wives of Windsor.' ^ 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 sliort 
 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. ^ ^^t iv., scene 3, 3 See page 1(59. 
 
 320
 
 SHAKESPEARE CONTROVERSY OF 1728 
 
 of notice. This liad .strengthened his previous convic- 
 tions. As a result of his examination of the new 
 edition lie 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 leading and collating Pope's eight volumes 
 rendered it necessary to [)Ostpone for a little while the 
 publication of his own volumes of comment. Still, he 
 assured subscribers, or intending subscribers, that witli 
 the exception of those to be made from the edition just 
 published, his remarks had all been drawn out and 
 copied and were readj^ 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 
 subscribino- 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 liis 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 fasldon to style it, had shown distinct signs of 
 having spent its violence by the end of 1728. It cannot
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 be said to have died out entirely, but it liad been pretty 
 effectually lulled to sleep. In the last mouth 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 Avell 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 liaving acted 
 entirely on the defensive. lie had been for years a 
 lonfT-sufferino; 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, JNloore-Smythe, Con- 
 canen, 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 Pope and his friends. It is very 
 noticeable, indeed, how very sensitive tlie poet was to 
 anything that had been said in disparagement of the 
 
 323
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 unfortunate play, ' Three Hours after Marriage,' Avliich 
 bore Gay's name, but in which Aibuthnot 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 'The 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 liis theatrical pieces he 
 observed of the play in question that it "has some 
 extraordinary scenes in it which seemed to trespass on 
 female modesty." ^ 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. "^ 
 
 But mild as it was, it was enough. Jacobs was hence- 
 forth a marked man. He took his place in ' 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." " 
 We can get from this specimen some conception of 
 
 1 Poetical Rej^ister, vol. ii. p. 114. 
 
 - I'alaemou to Cieliaat Bath ; or the Triumvirate, 1717. 
 3 Note to line 149 of Book 3, editions of 1729. But thi.s part of the 
 note was not in the quarto ; it did not appear till the Gilliver octavo, 
 
 324
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBAL/rS EDITION 
 
 Pope's idea of gross abuse, when directed toward Iiim- 
 self and liis 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 INlr. 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 m3'self : so to 
 name him oftener than there is a necessity for it in a 
 work where lie has been so egregiously mistaken, I shall 
 think it doing him too much honor." ^ 
 
 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.^ 
 His proposal apparently met Avith the approval of his 
 
 1 ' Mist's Journal,' No. 166, June 22, 1728. 
 
 2 Letter to Warburton, March 10, 17o0, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 551.
 
 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 liis side and the Avit on 
 tlie other. He was not one of that order of scholars 
 who l)car 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,' ^ 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 partis to convince, not rail." 
 
 Theobald in fact had a curious confidence in the ultimate 
 triumph of truth, which has about it, when we consider 
 
 1 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." ^ 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 thouo-h 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. Tliese 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 ' ]\Iist'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 plaj's 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 
 them 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. 2.'), 1729.
 
 THE TEXT OF SIIAKESPEAllE 
 
 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." ^ 
 
 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 tlie 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 tlie ' Daily Journal.' ^ liefore any impartial tribunal 
 the reply would have been deemed conclusive. Inciden- 
 tally he disposed of tlie first assertion. " To say I con- 
 cealed my design," he wrote, "is a slight mistake ; for I 
 liiul no such certain design till I saw liow 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 specif}'' which one — 
 he asked him to assist him in a few tickets towards his 
 benefit. About a month later he leceived his tickets 
 back with the excuse from tlie 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 Dinifiad, quarto of 1729. Book 1, line lOG. Tlio note is not iu 
 modern editions. 
 
 " Daily Journal, April 17, 1729. Ilciiriuted in Nichol.s, 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 tlie ' 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 tlie 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 wonld ask those of his 
 friends with whom he was familiar enough to ask for 
 anything of such a uiiture. The asking was pretty cer- 
 tainly never performed; if so, it was wholly unsuccess- 
 ful. From that day to tlie publication of his ' Shake- 
 speare Restored,' Tlieobald added that lie had never 
 received one further line from j\Ir. Pope, had never had 
 an intimation of a single subscriber secured by his 
 interest, nor even an order that on the list should bo 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. P>ut under the circumstances 
 it was hardly worth while to taunt his antagonist with 
 soliciting favors which he in turn had half promised to 
 grant and had wholly neglected to perform. Theobald 
 added that ho would never have troubled the public with 
 tliese 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 ' wliicli was shortly to appear, 
 and for the phiy 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 
 misfortune," 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 lionor 
 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 anytldng, it was strengthened rather than weakened 
 in the editions of ' The Dunciad ' that followed. In the 
 second octavo following the quarto of 1729 Pope paraded 
 the remark of Theol)ald 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 Note to line 106 of Book 1. The note is not in modern editions. 
 This part of it first ajtpeared 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 w^ould 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 hiul 
 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 the 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, tbo' 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." ^ This was the shameless avowal of 
 his concealed design of which Pope spoke. 
 
 There were other passages in tlie 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 Ills satirist's incapacity as an editor. Pope 
 had constantly criticised liis antagonist for what he 
 called word-splitting, for dwelling at length upon min- 
 utite tliat wore 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 inisapprehending the mean- 
 ing that he had explained it into nonsense. 
 
 In exemplification of this charge he pointed out the 
 
 1 Daily Journal, Nov. 26, 1728. 
 
 332
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 erroneous, not to say ridiculous, definitions which had 
 been given of reechij^ (jermins, and element} 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 long enabled to hold his own against the 
 virulent enmity of the most influential man of letters of 
 his time. Tlie passages, as given here, are taken from 
 Pope's edition ; but in every case but one they present 
 the readino; 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 driuk, I eat away myself, aud live." ^ 
 
 The utter incomprehensibility of " I eat away myself " 
 of the last line vanishes at once in the emendation con- 
 tained in this letter, — - 
 
 " I drink, I eat, array myself, and live." 
 1 See page 91. ^ Act iii., scene 2. 
 
 333
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 In his edition Theobald ascribed this most felicitous of 
 corrections to his friend, Ilawley 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 T but followed the ai-ts! 
 Sir Tohij. Then hadsfc thou had an excellent head of hair. 
 Sir Andrew. Wh}', would that have mended my hair? 
 Sir Toby. Past question, for thou seest it wdl not cool my 
 nature." ^ 
 
 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 chiuiged " cool my nature " into " curl b}^ 
 nature." 
 
 The next two emendations belong to ' Love's Labor 's 
 Lost.' The first occurs in Biron's humorous denuncia- 
 tion of the god of love, wliom he describes as 
 
 " Tliis signior Junio, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid." ^ 
 
 " 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 "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., sceue 3. - Act iii., sceue 1.
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 notion that there was a possible allusion to a char- 
 acter Junius in Beaumont and Fletcher's ' Bonduca.' 
 ])Ut 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 '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 wh}^ 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." ^ 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 
 compreliended. " Invention imitary " was certainly a 
 puzzle. Yet all difficulties disappeared the moment the 
 passage was printed as it appeared corrected in this 
 communication : 
 
 " 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 iv., scene 2. 
 
 335
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 him as a writer. It would bo a tediuus and iinprolitable 
 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 tlie moral obliqmty of his adversary. 
 In a passage of peculiar brillianc}', only part of which 
 appears in modern editions of the poem, and tliat too 
 dissevered from its proper cont(^xt, Pope attacked Theo- 
 bald as a commentator. He re[)]-esented him in his 
 apostrophe to the goddess of dulness as thus speaking 
 of himself: 
 
 " Here studious I unlucky moderus save, 
 Nor sleeps one error in its father's grave, 
 Old puns restore, lost blunders nicely seek, 
 And crucify poor Sliakespear once a week. 
 For thee 1 dim these eyes, and stuff this heivd, 
 Witli all such reading as was never read ; 
 For tline supplying, m 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 wdiich excites 
 admiration, and in one sense the wisdom. Can a more 
 
 1 Duuciad of 17:29, Book 1, lines 161-170. Lines 5, 6, 9, 10, are iu 
 Book 4 of modern editions, lines 249-252, the rest have disa])peared. 
 The eighth line refers to Theohald's notes to Cooke's Hesiod, and his 
 prologue to James Moorc-Sniythc's comedy of ' The Rival Modes.' 
 
 O.I/'
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 vivid picture bo ilrawii tliau is fouud iii theiii of tliiit 
 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 nuL eontent with letting these lines stand 
 for themselves. In tlie enlaiged editions of ' Tlie Dun- 
 ciad ' he added a connnent to the one which represents 
 poor Shakespeare as being weekly crucified by Theobald. 
 "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 ' Tlie 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 wliich he has not been represented as steadily 
 annoying Pope by these repeated reminders of his lack 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, 
 tliat thus led him to disturb tlie 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 ' INlist'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 INlarch 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 Sliakespeare, 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 ' 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." ^ 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 uotc is not 
 in modern editions.
 
 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 Dnn- 
 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 tlie innocent and unsuspect- 
 ing faitli in it which lias been exliibited by his editors 
 and biograpliers. Modern impressions about Tlieobald 
 have been derived almost wholly from the assertions of 
 the poet. Of several tilings written or done by him suc- 
 ceeding]: generations have derived their knowledge from 
 tlie notes to ' The Dunciad ' ; and it is knowledge per- 
 verted by misrepresentation and misquotation so as to 
 make him seem to thinlv 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 
 passed from sight and memory in the oblivion wliich 
 usually overtakes everything which is conlined to the 
 columns of a newspaper. These calumnies liave re- 
 mained uncontradicted in ever}^ edition of Pope from 
 the earliest to the latest, including even one so gener- 
 
 339
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ally liustile 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. 
 
 DurinCT 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 tliat he should himself edit the works 
 of the dramatist begau to show signs of possible realiza- 
 tion. The ditHculties in the way were gradually sur- 
 mounted. The exclusive possession Ijy 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 aii edition of the plays. 
 It is evident from his words that it was then ord}' a 
 possibility, not a certainty. " I know you will not be 
 displeased," he wn'ote to Warburton, " if I should tell 
 you in j'our ear, perhaps I may venture to join the text to 
 my ' Remarks.' But of tliat more a little time hence." ^ 
 By tlie 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 i)i- 
 tended to give an edition of the poet's text along with 
 his corrections.''^ 
 
 Yet even then it is clear that all obstacles had not 
 
 1 Letter of Nov. 0, 1729, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 254. 
 
 2 Ibid. p. 5.'31, letter of INIarcli 10, 1730. 
 
 340
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD- S EDITION 
 
 been removed. Pcxssibly the negotiations between the 
 various publishers to carry out the object in view had 
 hung fire. There may have been douljts as to the legal- 
 ity of the proceeding. At all events it was not until 
 November, 1731, that Tlieobald 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 great deal 
 towards the perfoi-mance of the task ; equally evident 
 that he did not fully appreciate how much more remained 
 to be done. The completed Mork, it was tiicn agreed, 
 was to appear tlie following Marcii; it did not come out 
 till nearly two years after the time fixed upon. These 
 successive changes of plan necessitated a delay Avhiuli 
 turned out in each instance much longer than had been 
 anticipated. It further exposed Theobald to the charge 
 of extorting money from sul)sciibers without designing 
 to give them anj^thing in return. But he was too thor- 
 oughly a scholar to liurry 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 
 having 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 liav- 
 ing now signed articles with Tonson, he was preparing to 
 put out as correct an edition of Sliakespeare 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.^ 
 In November, 1731, Pope read in his personal organ, 
 
 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 619, letter of Nov. 17, 17.31. 
 
 341
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the ' Grub-street Journal,' an item eopied into it from the 
 ' Daily Journal.' " We hear," were its words, " that Mr. 
 Theobald, being- now entirely ready to give tlie public 
 an edition of Shakespeare's plays, with his remarks and 
 emendations, has articled with IMr. Tonson for publishing 
 the same in six volumes in octavo with all possible de- 
 spatch." 1 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 iEschylus which 
 was sometimes joined with it.^ 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 pul> 
 lishiuGf house which had issued his own edition. This 
 put an entirely different aspect upon the matter. lie 
 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 presiuned that this was not so ; for 
 had it been, Tonson would in some way liave 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, iu an article not iu) probably written by Pope himself. 
 
 342
 
 ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 idle report crept into the news, or perhaps put into it by 
 Theobald himself, he was anxious to ascertain whether 
 there was an}' 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, whetlier 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 or-der 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 tliis villain of a Theobald 
 in his specimens and in letters concerning them. 
 
 It was characteristic of Pope that lie immediately 
 began to devise schemes for the further annoyance of 
 the man he pursued with unrelenting hostility. To the 
 elder Tonson, now retired from active business, he at 
 once wrote a letter. He was careful, however, to 
 
 343
 
 THE TEXT OF 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." ^ 
 
 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 ' 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 Shalves[)eare was never 
 heard of again. 
 
 345
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 warburton's attack on pope 
 
 For the four or five years following the publication 
 of ' The Dunciad ' tlio 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 tlie 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 woidd 
 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
 
 WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE 
 
 There was one matter in particular in which this 
 form of his superiorit}^ 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 affected 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. Tins 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 s[)oke contempt- 
 uously of Theobald's laljoring to prove Shakespeare 
 " conversant in such authois as Caxton and Wynkin, 
 rather than in Homer or Chaucer." ^ 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 lie had represented Theobald as having stuffed 
 
 '' liis head 
 Willi 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 l>y Shakespeare, and the one who set 
 out to illustrate Shakespeare was under the necessity of 
 reading it too, if he had any expectation of understand- 
 ing what Shakespeare wrote. But there was something 
 
 1 Note to line 1G2, Book 1, quarto of 1729. The note is uot in modern 
 
 editions. 
 
 o 1 7
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 more than knowledo-e in which Theobald excelled his 
 adversary. He had manifested an acumen in dealing 
 with corrupt passages wliich 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 dishke 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 tlie attitude of others would be that of indiffer- 
 ence. Undoubtedly there were satirical references to 
 Theobald as king of the dunces which were lieaid in 
 conversation and crept occasionally into jirint.^ 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 jiocm cntitkMl ' A New Session of Poets for 
 the Year 1730' in 'The Universal Spectator.' No. 122, Saturday, Feb. 6, 
 1730. 
 
 348
 
 WARDURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE 
 
 To a certain extent too, lack of effectiveness was made 
 up by frequency of fire. 
 
 Heavier onslauglits fell upon Pope from other quarters. 
 Tlie 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 whicli 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 tlie poet himself, 
 prove the falsehood of Pope, liis envy and his malice. 
 The title-page thus imperfectly indicates tlie nature of 
 the pampldet. It will therefore excite no surprise to 
 find that Dennis terms tlie satirist a wretch,^ a little 
 envious, mischievous creature,- a bouncing bully of Par- 
 nassus.^ 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 were 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, p. 9. 
 
 2 Ibid. p. 39. ^ Ibid. p. 11. 
 
 049
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 of years by praising Theobald witliout 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 hal)it of writing pan- 
 egyrics upon liimsclf and liaving 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 tlie way to produce confi- 
 dence in his own taste or judgment. Still it was not 
 the censure of Pope that caused wonder, Init the un- 
 doubtedly genuine praise given to his opponent. When 
 a few years later IVIallet 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, 
 Dnnce 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 majiy 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 preliminaiy efforts towiuds 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.''^ 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. 
 
 351
 
 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 INIarch, 1720, 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 ' 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
 
 WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON I'UPE 
 
 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 tlieir 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 ' Daily Journal ' of March 22, 
 1720. 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 
 nothino" more counnon thiin for men under the torture 
 
 to defame themselves, and that INIr. P was on the 
 
 rack when the printer took his confession is pUiin 
 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 linding 
 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 don't 
 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 plddliruj 
 
 T s, and returns to his primitive occupation of 
 
 libelling and baivdy 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 fur 
 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 tlie 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, " ' 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 tlie poet's base 
 and impious attacks. Tliat every one nuist 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 Dan- 
 ciad ; ' who remembers, lastly, nor fane nor capitol could 
 screen tluit incomparable patriot and prelate, the bishop 
 
 of S y ^ 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; whicli I pre- 
 dict, ivova 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." 
 I 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 
 ' 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. 
 
 356
 
 WARBURTON'S ATTACK ON POPE 
 
 some of his explanations. He censured his change of 
 thrive or tJirwd, into three in ' Tinion ' ; Mn ' OtheHo, ' '^ 
 his adoption of Indian instead of Ji/dean ; and in parti- 
 cular he found enjoyment in "that short nooky isle 
 of Albion," into which the poet had transformed in 
 ' Henry V.' ^ Shakespeare's "nook-shotten isle of 
 Albion." Besides two special emendations of his own, 
 he contributed an explanation of the following passage 
 in 'Lear,' in which Edgar, in witnessing his father's 
 miserable change of fortune, exclaims 
 
 " World, world, O world ! 
 But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, 
 Life would not yield to age." * 
 
 This was one of the few instances in which Warbur- 
 ton refrained entirely from chasing any of tlie 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-suflicient that it seems hard to believe 
 that he should have been willing to accept for a moment 
 Theobald's change of hate into ivait. 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. '•^ Act v., scene 2. 
 
 2 Act iii., scene 5. * Act iv., scene 1. 
 
 357
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 then advanced a comment of his own upon the passage 
 has since come over to n\y emendation." ^ But the 
 gentleman who had advanced a comment — whose name 
 Theobakl was careful to conceal — very wisely went 
 back to his original interpretation when he came to pro- 
 duce an edition of his own.^ 
 
 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 antl 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 nuist 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
 
 WAR BURTON'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. 
 
 Wavburton's Letter of March 22, 1729. 
 
 1. Like the formal vice, iniquity. 
 Like the formal wise antiquity. 
 
 Richard IIL, act iii., scene 1. 
 
 2. Power i' the truth o' the cause. 
 Power in the ruth of the laws. 
 
 Coriolaiuis, 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 'twixt 
 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 ricli cope 
 Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt 
 The fiery orbs above and astroit stones 
 Upon the liumbled beach? 
 
 Cymbeline, act i., scene G. 
 
 5. Prolooue to the omen comins; 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 ^neas 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 in ivy [pining] maidens' groans. 
 The dead men's blood, the prived maidens' groans. 
 
 Henry V., act ii., scene 4. 
 
 360
 
 WARBU ETON'S ATTACK ON POPE 
 
 The reading in ' CymLeline ' of astroit for Uvvnned, 
 WiU'burton seems to luive 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 probal)ly disbelieved it ; but he 
 assured his friend that the emendation was altogether 
 too recho'chee.^ Warburton apparently did not insist 
 upon it. To the last, however, he stuck to his substi- 
 tution of Sieha'us for JEneas. Hanmer, he induced to 
 insert it into the text ; but on this point Theobald was 
 obdurate, though ho 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 tlie course taken 1)}^ each with regard to 
 these published letters. Witli 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 tliat his lioht 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 Avhat is 
 gleaned from them should come out anonymous; for 
 I should 1)6 loth to have a valued friend subjected, on 
 my account, to the outrages of Pope, virulent though 
 impotent."- He was accordingly careful to preserve 
 
 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 523. 
 
 2 Letter of Nov. 18, 17.31, Nichols, vol. ii. p. C21. 
 
 361
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Warburton from the suspicion of having anj^thing 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 "anonymous corrector." ^ 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 Tlieobald, died . perhaps tlie only other 
 person besides himself who was acquainted with the 
 authorship of these letters. 
 
 1 Theohalil'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 cluiracterized many 
 who, like him, had not been made the snbject of its 
 attack. They were so ontraged Ijy the virulence and 
 injustice of the piece that they failed to appreciate 
 its greatness. Whatever opinion men might entertain 
 about the malice whicli had inspired it, whatever dis- 
 gust they might feel at its occasional coarseness and 
 indecency, it was folly to deny tliat 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 oriwinated 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. JNIost of them knew 
 then, what almost every one has forgotten now, that in 
 the revivinor 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 'Tlie 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, Lyttelt QU sent him in 
 ] 730 an epistle in verse, in which he paid the highest 
 possible tribute to liis 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. Rut 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 IciLer to Sir Thomas 
 Hanmer. "I am surprised," lie wrote, "Mr. Pope is 
 not weary of making enemies." ^ 
 
 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 connnonly stated, against the 
 authors he had attacked that many months passed 
 before a single voice Avas lifted up publicly in his de- 
 fence. The fact Avas 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 Avrote, " is carried on against him fiercely in pictures 
 and libels, and 1 heard of nobody but Savage and 
 Cleland who have yet drawn their pens in his defence. "^ 
 This was*the same as saying that noljody 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 wdiat 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 Ilaiimer, Dec. 23 (1731), in ' Ilanmer Corres- 
 pondence,' p. 217. 
 
 2 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 1 54, letter of Teuton to Broome, June 
 24 (1729). 
 
 365
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 selves under liis 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 liis 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, 
 17 30. he published two poetical e pistles addressed to 
 Pope on the authors, or rather the scribblers, oT 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 jwor 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 iniiiioilality, d\\t'lt upon \iy thu dependent 
 pensioner of tlie opulent and great, who had celebrated 
 in terms of grossest adulation the virtues of the 
 most notorious social and political profligates of llie 
 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 lirst 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 Avere 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 lind that Theobald is not even 
 mentioned in some of these pieces. Welsted attacking 
 in turn, was more constantly an object of attack. Put 
 an intenser and bitterer animosity was displayed by 
 Pope, and re-echoed by his partisans, against James 
 Moore-Sm^'the than against any otlier 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 
 
 36T
 
 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 tliem 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. INIiller, 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. ^ 
 
 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 I'ope. 
 With neither of these did he have anything to do. 
 
 3G8
 
 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 main!}'- 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. Ho 
 hated the administration, and above all, tlie 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 ' The Dunciad ' had come to be religiously accepted 
 by the adherents of Pope. It Avas in the following way 
 that this feeble poetaster assailed one of the ablest of 
 English prime-ministers : 
 
 " Amidst the mighty dull, behold how great 
 Au Appiiis swells, the Tibbald of the state." 
 
 U 3G1)
 
 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. lie 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 ;i Avoimui of high position who had heen noto- 
 riously unfaithful to her husband. Born in humble 
 circumstances somewhere, he perhaps did not know 
 Avhere, 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 lier unfortunate son was 
 rehashed in the periodical literature of the time.^ As 
 late as 1777, when Savage's tragedy of ' Sir Thomas 
 Overbury ' was revived at Drury Lane, nuich 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. ^ 
 
 To Savage himself this particular lie was the happiest 
 invention to which his mind, teeming with fictitious 
 narratives about himself, ever gave birth. He worked 
 it for its full value, and met with a degree of success 
 
 1 E. (J., Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xxxii. pp. 491, 523. See also 
 tlie same magazine for 1781, p. 420. 
 
 2 E. (J., Londou 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 ol jjection 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. "^ With such a 
 certificate to his birth it is no wonder that the "un- 
 natural Avoman," 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 IJuui'iad, (luarto of 1729, Book 2, line 46; iu modem editions, line 50. 
 
 97. 9
 
 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 dne 
 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 has 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 retrard as a dubious character aud 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 undonbting 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 slionld 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 
 w^ould 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 uoth- 
 
 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. But 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 tlieir motions and each word they say; 
 And all, and more than all I know, betray; 
 In kind return he clieers my soul with praise, 
 And mends, when such he finds, my feeble lays." ^ 
 
 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 niiglit 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. 
 
 0'7i''
 
 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- 
 plislied 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 tins 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 'An Author to be Let ' — a title by which Savage 
 appropriately, 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 Pojdc'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 iji it were adopted by 
 
 1 The Ilyp-Doctor, No. 232, April 29, 1735. 
 377
 
 THE TEXT OE SEAKESPEARE 
 
 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 tlie 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 tlie 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 by some to be exceedingly 
 crushing. 
 
 In tliis 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.^ 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 t6Vhold in more contempt than he the party 
 organs on each side. ,, Bnt 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 uidvuown 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 forthconung. 
 
 In the very same number of ' INIist's Journal ' ^ 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 probabilit}^ its actual 
 composition. The conductor of the paper inserted both 
 
 1 See advertisements iu ' Grub-street Journal,' May 27, Juue 4, June 
 11, anil June 18, 1730. 
 ■2 June 8, 1729. 
 
 379
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 these articles as representing tlie two different sides of 
 tlie 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 pretendedly ofhcial 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 'M. 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 resolutious ordered the 
 composition of a key to 'The Dunciad.' This was to 
 he 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. 11. , 
 Mr. W., Mr. D. and the Rev. Mr. W. Most, if not 
 every one of the persons indicated by these initials 
 can be identified. The Rev. jNIr. 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 
 
 380
 
 THE ALLIES OF POPE 
 
 exhibit liis peculiar vein, but it would bo 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 ' ^ 
 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 '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 witli 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 perliaps 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 
 him 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 
 
 1 July 13, 1729, No. 169. 
 
 381
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 told Fenton in June of this year that for the future he 
 intended to write nothing but epistles after the manner 
 of Horace.^ 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 thougli 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 accpiired with all, and the dread he in- 
 spired in many. 
 
 The attacks upon him in tlie press after tlie publication 
 of the quarto of 1729 were persistent. They took usu- 
 ally the form of short paragraphs or o[)igrams, as well as 
 that of letters such as those wliich liavc been given as 
 coming from Warburton. To one whose sensitiveness 
 to criticism amounted almost to a disease, the}^ were 
 peculiarly galling. The newspapers were indeed open 
 to him also, directly or indirectly; but frequent resort to 
 them rested under fatal objections. He coidd not say 
 in them as much as he wished or wluit he wished with- 
 out appearing in person. To a man occupying liis 
 position before tlie , public no amount of space would 
 have been denied. But that very position i-endered it 
 impossible for him to engage in controversy. Had it 
 1 Pope's ' Woi'ks,' vul. viii. p. 154, letter of Feutun to Broome, June 24. 
 
 382
 
 THE ALLIES OF POPE 
 
 been otherwise, a course of conduct oL' 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, lie 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 
 undertakino- of this character it seemed diflicult, 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 enterpi'ise originated in his behalf, devoted 
 mainly to furthering his interests, and yet all the wliile 
 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, Avhich it is per- 
 haps hopeless to expect will ever be fnlly 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 v/here 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 epithet 
 "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, Ruffhead, Dr. Johnson, 
 
 384
 
 THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL 
 
 Joseph Wartoii and Roscoe, so far fiuiii 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 wrousjht 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 ' 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 
 25 385
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 of its Leing. Not merely was its animus unmistakable, 
 but the manner of its manifestation was as unmistak- 
 ably Tope'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 Grubieans, 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 
 vituijeration 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 
 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 tlie degree of commendation they re- 
 ceived was largely proportioned to the degree of viru- 
 lence tliey had displayed in railing at his opponents, 
 or to the degree of their ardor in eulogizing himself. 
 Special attention Avas 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 beforeliand. Walter Harte, for instance, 
 brought out in January, ITol, a poem on Pope's side, 
 
 386
 
 THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL 
 
 entitled 'An Essay on Satire, particnlaily on The 
 Dunciad.' Its utter connuonplaceness 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 
 ' Grub-street Journal ' ^ 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 tlie 
 fact was early suspected by the indifferent and openly 
 asserted by the hostile, it was pretty certainly never 
 believed at tlie 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.'"'^ 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 lie 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 comrau- 
 
 1 No. 24, June 18, 17.30. 
 
 2 Pope's ' Works,' vol. viii. p. 268, letter of May 17, 1730- 
 
 387
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 nicatioii from Pope himself, tliougli it was iutroduecd 
 as having been sent "by an unknown haml."'^ It was 
 an attack upon the preface to the just pu))lished epistle 
 in verse wdiich had been addressed to him by Welsted 
 and Moore-Smythe. It was followed the w^eek after 
 by a further reply of his to the statements contained 
 in the poem itself.'-^ 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 })ublication 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- 
 lowinsf 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, D^'uiiis, and Gibber were sub- 
 jected to a pretendedly grave exaniiiiation. 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 appeared 
 in the number for November 19, 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 come 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 worhs, 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 tliem without 
 an attempt to correct it anywhere. 
 
 The 'Grub-street Journal ' purported to ])e the organ 
 of an assumed Grukean society. After a few num- 
 bers it set out to give a Aveekl}^ account of its more 
 important transactions. This was a continuation of 
 the scheme of a reguhir report of the proceedings of 
 the so-called Knights of the Bathos which had been 
 earlier outlined in the article contributed to ' Mist's 
 Journal.' ^ 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 ' Grul)-street ' authors — 
 ' 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 pago 380. 
 
 390
 
 THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL 
 
 taiy of the pretended society, who took the name of 
 Bavins, 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 tlie 
 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 tlie belief that Pope and his friends were 
 contributors to its coliuuns 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 
 hostilitj^, 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 tlie grossness of its scurrility. In its later career 
 it acliieved 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 fre(juent 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 ' The 
 Covent Garden Tragedy,' brought out in 1732, the 
 procuress tells the pimp in her employ that having 
 learned to read he has kno^^'n 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 Bavins? 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. Maivius is joined 
 by them with Bavins. 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 l)lindest admiration would 
 apparently account for sucli a course; yet there exists 
 
 -'92
 
 THE GRUli -STREET JOUUNAL 
 
 no evidence of any intimacy between the poet and the 
 assnmed 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 authoritj'. 
 Furthermore there are occasional references to INIartyn 
 in tlie contemporary papers with which the ' Grub- 
 street Journal ' came into conflict, notably Henley's 
 '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." ^ 
 
 In 1737 appeared a work in two volumes entitled 
 ' Memoirs of Grub-street. ' It consisted of cssa3S, 
 letters, epigrams, and poems collected from the first one 
 hundred and twenty-five numbers of this journal — 
 that is, up to June, 1732. 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 Hyp-Doctor, No. 15, IVIarch 23, 1731. 
 
 393
 
 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 JNIartyn 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 srave 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 effects of sea-water; 
 and he took a prominent part in tlie efforts put forth 
 to develop Brighton into a place of fashionable resort. 
 The other physician was a graduate of Rheims, and 
 practised his pi'ofession 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 otlier works he has been constantly con- 
 founded with his more eminent namesake. It is these 
 
 394
 
 rilE 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 
 ' 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. Furthermoxa 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 mucli of an 
 identification as tliis 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 tliis 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 Jourual, No. 1.58, Jnuuary 4, 1733. 
 
 395
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 There was always so much equivocation and evasion 
 going on in the controversies of which I'ope 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 ailirni unmistakably one thing they 
 can be made unexpectedly to yield under pressure a 
 meanino- altosrether different. Plain therefore as seem 
 the words just given, one cannot be sure that they 
 convey an actual denial. They may have lurking in 
 tliem a subterfuge of some sort. Jiut if intended as a 
 denial they failed signally of their aim. Contemporary 
 references continued to designate Russcl — 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 tliat the person thought to be at 
 
 the head of the ' Grub-street Journal ' was " Mr. R 1, 
 
 a nonjuring clergyman." ^ 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 antagcmist Parson Russel. Furthermore he 
 went into particulars. He wrote and printed pointed 
 personal letters to his rival in which he took care to 
 o-ive not oidy 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- 
 
 1 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,"^ 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 souie young gentlemen to board 
 in your house who go to Westminster school."^ 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.'^ 
 
 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 nuich more virulence and effect a 
 year or so later by Aaron II ill and Popple in their paper 
 called 'Tlie Prompter.' There it was lx)lh assumed 
 and asserted that he was the responsible conductor of 
 the rival publication. Tliat a uuin of liis profession 
 should be concerned in a work of this character was 
 pronounced to be something peculiarly disreputable.* 
 He was at times variously designated as the vicar of 
 Grul>street,^ as a mixture of priest and scavenger, as 
 the reverend drayman at the Pegasus,^ as the reverend 
 
 1 The Bee, No. 41, Dec. 4, 1733, vol. !v. p. 72. 
 
 2 Il)i(l. vol. iv. p. 75. 
 
 3 Ilml. No. 52, Feb. 23, 1734, vol. iv. p. 550. 
 * The Prompter, No. 112, Dec. 5, 1735. 
 
 5 Ibid. No. 107, Nov. 18, 1735, No. Ill, Dec. 2. 
 
 6 Ibid. No. 112, Dec. 5, 1735. 
 
 397
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 drayman of the Hebdomadalian dung-cart.^ 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 witli 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. - 
 
 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.^ 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. "Tlie 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 througli 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 
 
 1 The Trompter, No. 108, Nov. 21, 1735. 
 
 2 Ibid. No. 107, Nov. 18, 1735. 
 
 ^ See a cojn' 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."^ This was touching the editorial manage- 
 ment in a very sore place. As the poet himself wrote 
 to Caryll, tlie pajier was very unequal. ^ 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 Bavins approached altogether nearer 
 the conception of that character than I'ope 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 tlie controversy which his 
 paper had with its contemporary, he charged him witii 
 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, INIr. Poppy, who 
 supplied it with libels in verse. "^ Budgell spoke con- 
 temptuously of tlie dread Pope affected to inspire by 
 his "never-dying satires." lie concluded one of his 
 articles with a defiant challen^'e to "the little envious 
 
 o 
 
 animal " who assailed him in the ' Grub-street Journal, ' 
 to set his own name to his scandalous verses. He con- 
 
 1 The Weekly Kegister, June 1, 1734. 
 
 2 Letter of Feb. 6, 1731, Pope's ' Works,' vol. vi. p. 329. 
 
 3 The Bee, vol. iv. p. 75. 
 
 399
 
 THE TEXT OE 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 tlie least heat or passion."^ 
 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 
 forcfed 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. "'Tis said," continued the writer, 
 "Budo^e sends him there. "^ This line taken in con- 
 nection with one or two others, Budgell considered or 
 affected to consider a charge that he had nuirdered the 
 philosopher. There was in consequence little restraint 
 in his denunciation of his supposed accuser. 
 
 Unquestionably I'ope was profoundly irritated hy 
 the persistency with which Budgell dragged in his 
 name in tlie 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 })0wer behind the management was distinctly 
 true. There is indeed no probalulity that he had any- 
 thing directly to do with the tedious, even if justiliable 
 
 1 Gnib-strcet Journal, p. 555, No. 52, Feb. 23, 1734. 
 
 2 Ibid. No. 205, Nov. 29, 1733. 
 
 400
 
 THE GRUB-STREEr JOURNAL 
 
 abuse, which was heaped upou 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 ' Grub-street 
 Journal.' But in January, 1735, appeared the apology 
 for his life which was published under the title of an 
 ' 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 wherewith 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 ho had invariably displayed to the calumnies with 
 which he had been constantly pursued, that he had 
 
 " Let Budgell charge low Grub-street on his quill, / 
 And write whate'er he please, except his will." ^ ' 
 
 The couplet was more than an insinuation tliat his 
 critic had been guilty of the forgery of which he had 
 been accused. It was intended to give tlie pul)lic the 
 impression of a full denial of any connection on his own 
 
 1 Lilies 37'J-80. 
 
 20 401
 
 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 wlio 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 '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 liis 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 ai)parently conveyed. He 
 couched his meaning in language which coidd 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 notliing to do with the pieces attacking Budgell in 
 regard to TindaFs will, and that he had no knowledge 
 of their authors. 
 
 The whole proceeding was curiously characteristic. 
 While the ordinary reader would aud 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 1)0 given, that the [)oet iiad 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 jjhrases 
 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 harjnful consequences. Without say- 
 
 403
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 ing, therefore, as did Macaiilay 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 misrejjresentation 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 ho made for himself in 
 a way he did not intend. Tlie 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 
 inlluenced 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 Avent 
 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, IToG, there appeared 
 in it a denial coming from his own mouth of a re- 
 
 404
 
 THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL 
 
 port about himself ^ — liis 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 lling 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 Litter part of 1735 and the early part 
 of 1736 the rival weekly, the 'Prompter,' constantly 
 twitted the unfortunate Ilussel with having lost the hel[) 
 of the only person who had been able to relieve by 
 Ids wit tlie insufferable dulness which his own personal 
 contributions imparted to the paper. Ills journ;il, it 
 was said, was called ' Grub-street ' and it was found 
 '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 lieiiig present iit Fielding's dramatic 
 satire of ' Pasquin,' iii ' Gnih-streot Journal,' No. 328, April 8, 173G ; the 
 denial in No. ;32".t of his having been ])resent ; and the information in No. 
 331 that the denial came from Po^jc's own mouth. 
 
 405
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 rescue and write for the paper oftener than once in 
 two montlis. Unless lie were more frequent in bis 
 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 ' 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 anxi(jus 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 Avhich 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 he had a grievance and that he liad 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 Bavins, had acquired as consummate 
 a knowledge as his predecessor." ^ 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 Ions: before ceased fullv. 
 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. 12,3, Jauuary 13, 1736. 
 
 407
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE ATTACK ON VEIIBAL CRITICISM 
 
 In the general warfare which Pope carried on in the 
 columns of the ' Gruh-street Journal ' with the men he 
 disliked or detested, Theobald was naturally not neg- 
 lected. The attacks upon him, liowever, varied much 
 at different periods. At the outset his im[)ortance in 
 the poet's eyes is manifested l)y tlie fact tliat 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 tlie sauie maimer also pretended 
 corrections were givcu of pieces criticised. The laureat 
 odes of Gibber, 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 Ixilieve that tliis representative position 
 was attained l)y one eminent only for dulness. 
 
 ]jut as Theol)ald 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 Wclsted, 
 Moore-Smythe, and Henley. Those returned railing for 
 railing and gave fully as much as they got. The bit- 
 terness displayed towards these men in certain of tlio 
 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, tlie one 
 person who received the largest share of notice in the 
 paper was a scholar who never paid au}^ 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 industr}^ 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 IMaster of 
 Trinity in tlie last book of 'The Dunciad, ' published 
 less than two years before Pope's deatjj, 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 
 Bentle}^ in their list of dunces. 
 
 One singular and most discreditable manifestation of 
 this hostility is worth recording here, as showing tlie 
 character of the poet and tlie nature of tlie 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 his 
 connection with the woik. P)Ut he disavowed it in a 
 feeble way. Apparently he took a secret pride in tlie 
 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 wliich his fatlier 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. ^ 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.^ 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 Alexauder Pope, Esq. : vol. ii., jiart ii. Contiiiniug all 
 
 410
 
 THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM 
 
 far as this, careful provision was ma Jo 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 Wartou ; 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 nndertak- 
 incrs 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 pieces of this author as were written since the former vohimes, and 
 never before published iu Octavo. Loudon : Printed for R. Dodsley, 1738. 
 The poem above mentioned extends from page 79 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 )night 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 
 Grubncan society. It is signed by Leonard Welsted as 
 secretary to tlic^ body of kniglits, esquires, and other 
 members of the ancient society of the Bathos, com- 
 monly called and known as tlie 'Gentlemen of The 
 Dvmciad. ' 
 
 In this c(Vinmunication there was an affected pretence 
 of defending Theobald as tlie president of tlie latter 
 society from a falsehood which had been inserted in 
 the 'Grub-street Journal.' Tliis was to the effect that 
 he had undertaken a translation of il'^schylus with the 
 subscription for Shakespeare in his pocket. The reverse 
 was really the fact. He had undertaken an edition 
 of Shakespeare with the subscription for ^Eschylus in 
 his pocket. "Full seven years ago," continued the 
 account, " he received guinea sul)Scriptions for tlie said 
 ^schylus, Tipon his proposals, dated November, 1723, 
 which asserted the work to 1)e tlien ready for the press, 
 
 412
 
 7U1E 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 he extolled. 
 He had proposed an vEschylus in 172-3, he had pro- 
 posed a Shakespeare in 1727, he had proposed an 
 'Od3^ssey ' 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 
 this 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 b}^ ]\)pe 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 ni;iil compleat of dulness clad, 
 Half bard, lialf puppet-man, half fool, lialf mad." 
 
 An ironical review of this poem, purporting to come 
 from the Grubaian society, appeared a few weeks later 
 
 413
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 in the 'Grub-street Journal.' Like tlie 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 tliese 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 mauy 
 different works for which he has procured their en- 
 couragement they have hitherto seen no more than the 
 Proposals and Specimen." ^ 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 ioY which every one of them ought to be 
 grateful, as it was far more eligible to pay one guinea 
 rather than two for iwtUyig. The double sense in which 
 the word ' 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. 
 
 4U
 
 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 alfixiug the name 
 of a deceased writer to his own works in order to raise 
 the price of these. To this, however, was appended the 
 followiug 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, alius Shakespear, to any book, 
 pamphlet, pla}'- 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-street Juiiriial, No. <J7, Nov. 11, 1731. 
 
 415
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 liiid been satirized. Tlie charge, whether true or false, 
 caused the poet iulinite 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 live 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 iirst 
 psalm. This was to exemplify his taste in divinity. 
 Still another piece was TheobaUrs letter to the 'Daily 
 Journal ' of April 17, IT-'J, 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 res^^onsible for 
 this publication. The collection as a whole is said to 
 have been edited l^y him.^ 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 ' Miscellany ' is more 
 than improbable. No intimation to that effect seems 
 to exist in contemporary literature. It was not ascribed 
 to him by the ' 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. 
 
 41G
 
 THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM 
 
 The paper contented itself with designating the work 
 as " Curllean Grubbisni."^ 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 improli- 
 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 'Orestes.' 
 This was brought out in April, 1731, at the theater in 
 
 1 No. 108, J;um;iry 27, 1732. 
 
 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. ^ It was addressed 
 to John Boyle, who had lately succeeded to the title of 
 Earl of Orrerj'. It was mainly devoted to celebrating 
 the virtues of his father, Charles Bo3'le, 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 Ijoen 
 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, Atlienteus 
 and Suidas. Tliis so impressed tlie editor that he asked 
 for further contributions. Two more were given, the 
 first containing observations upon Strabo, Anacreon, 
 and Suidas, the second on iEsch} his and his schohast. 
 These are mentioned here solely iov 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. ^ 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 wdth them hardly any 
 one could have been found guilty. 
 
 In this matter, as in numerous others, Theobald Avas 
 a pioneer; but the work he did has been practically 
 ignored and the credit due him has been largely ac- 
 
 1 Vol. ii. pp. 242-250. 
 
 419
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 corded to others. Still, ut the time itself the reputa- 
 tion he had won in his chosen Held was of the highest. 
 There was no attempt then made to dispute his superi- 
 ority as a textual critic. Friend and foe alike acknowl- 
 edtred it. Even the 'Grub-street Journal' conceded 
 that he [)ossessed 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 specific 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 eaily 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 ijicreasing 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 connnas, 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. lie 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 CRITICISM 
 
 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 Tope 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 alter all 
 of no special value. The success he met in propagat- 
 ing this belief was due to the mental attitude wliich 
 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 dimiinant. 
 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 he 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. 
 Dry den was an exception. His wrath had indeed been 
 aroused by the attack of Shad well, who professed to be 
 a follower of Ben Jonson. '" Where did his wit on 
 learning hx a brand?" exclaimed the indignant poet, 
 referring to the earlier dramatist.^ But in this matter 
 Pope would have sympathized, not with the satirist, but 
 with the man satirized. In the fourth book of ' 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 MacFleckiioc, line 177. 
 
 422
 
 THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM 
 
 had apparently Leen devoid entirely, evinced no real 
 understanding- of the author. Thci^e were the fruits of 
 dogged industry. They could bo secured as easily by 
 a dullard willing to put forth the requisite exertion as 
 hy 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 exhilnted 
 contempt for it was sure to lead his readers into error. ^ 
 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 l>oyle was seen by 
 increasingly large numbers to have been a total defeat. 
 But Bentley now succeeded in doing something for his 
 
 ^ 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 bo found in tlie whole range of English 
 literature. In preparing it Bentley concocted the appari- 
 tion of a friend to whom Milton had dictated liis 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 INIilton, 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 liad 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 trne 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 eri'ors 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 knowltdge, 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 ' ^ 
 In one of its earliest numbers ^ a correspondent using 
 the signature of Zoilus, and writing or purporting to 
 write from Cambridge, decLared that he had l)een 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. 
 lie then proceeded to make a number of emendations 
 which differed little in character from those which 
 Bentley was subsequently to publish. Tlie reasoning 
 too by which he justified liis alterations reads astonish- 
 ingly like that later emploj^ed by the gi-eat scholar. 
 One indeed gets the impression that some of the emen- 
 dations which licntley 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 tlie latter. Ju 
 one instance he anticipated the action oC the editor by 
 substituting 'sacred' for 'secret' in tlie opening para- 
 graph of the epic, where mention is made of the "secret 
 top of Oreb or of Sinai." 
 
 The friend and amanuensis of INIilton 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. These choice epithets applied to the man were 
 
 1 Nos. 9, 12, 25, 87, ami 118. " No. 9, March 5, 1730. 
 
 425
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 rivalled by the plirases descriptive of tlie 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 tliey 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 l)y 
 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 bej-ond 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."^ Bentley would read "the 
 Almighty hath no butt here for his envy." When 
 Gabriel, according to ]\Iilton, asks Satan why he has 
 "broke the bounds prescribed to thy transgressions, "^ 
 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,"^ Bentley corrected a particular one of what he 
 designated as a whole row of blunders by reading 
 ' 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 unblamed," Bentley preferred 
 'mensal' to 'venial,' as lessening the familiarity and 
 
 1 Book 1, 1. 259. 2 Book 4, 1. 879. 3 Book 6, 1. .513. 
 
 427
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 condescension.! 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. '^ 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 Englisli scholarship then was tliat 
 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 bhink 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 tliis 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 invarial)ly joined withi 
 Bentley's whenever any comment was made upon verbaF 
 criticism. The humbler scholar could not free his 
 own labors entirely frf)m the discredit cast upon the 
 subject by the extraordinaiy 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 he 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 tlie latter was supported hy tlic 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, tliough 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 pul)lic 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 anonymously, but was 
 well known to he the work of David Mallet. It came 
 out in April, 1733.^ 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 l)e published An Epistle to Mr. Tope, occasioned 
 by Beutley's Milton and Theobald's Shakespear. Printed for L. Gillivcr." 
 (Daily Journal, P'riday, A]iril 3, 173o.) For advertisement of actual pub- 
 lication see ' (j1 rub-street Journal,' April 20, 1733. 
 
 430
 
 THE ATTACK OX VERBAL ClilTICISM 
 
 merit -wliicli 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 Theobahrs 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 monilist de- 
 clared with his usual vigor that there was no dirty 
 work Mallet was not ready to do for hire ; and it is a 
 sucrsrestive 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, none exceeded in impudence the composition 
 
 431
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 of this ]_)oeni. Never was there furnished a more strik- 
 ing illustration of the shamelessness, and witli 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 
 particidar he was in a class much below Pope, who 
 really appreciated what he felt it his interest to dis- 
 parage. But INlallet 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 tlian this puny 
 literary Gigadibs presuming to match himself with a 
 scholar of the stature of Bentlej^; for it is observable 
 that neither Pope nor his followers confined themselves 
 to attacks upon the great critic for his edition of 
 INlilton, 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 Shakespcitre 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. INlallet, 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 rcAcal the 
 nature of the attack: 
 
 432
 
 THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM 
 
 " See, in the darkness of dull authors bred, 
 With all theu- refuse lumber'd in his head, 
 Long years consum'd, large volumes daily turn'd, 
 And Servius read perhaps, while INlaro buru'd, 
 In error obstinate, in wrangling loud, 
 Unbred, unsocial, positive and proud ; 
 Forth steps at last the self-applauding wiglit. 
 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 liglit ; 
 Turn Caxton, Winkin, each old Goth and Ilun, 
 To rectify the reading of a pun. 
 I'hus nicely trifling, accurately dull, 
 How one may toil and toil — to be a fool. 
 
 " But is there then no lionor 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, 
 AVhom Bufo treats, and Lady A\'ou'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 : 
 
 Whate'er is refuse, critically gleaning. 
 
 And mending nonsense into doubtful meaning. 
 
 28 
 
 433
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 For this tlie scholiast claims his share of fame, 
 
 xViid modest, prints his owu with Shakespear's name. 
 
 Had Mallet consciously and conscientiously set out 
 to proclaim liis 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 liow 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 luid 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 sim})ly 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 
 
 hy 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 you," wrote 
 Pope to the painter Richardson in November, 1732, 
 "and at me too, shortly, for what I conld not help; a 
 satirical poem on ^ Verbal Criticism ' by Mr. JNlallet, 
 which he inscribed to me before I knew anything of 
 it. "^ 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 
 
 K we can trust the report of an enemy, I'ope's action 
 in this matter was something more than passive. He 
 procured the publication of the poem by the man who 
 generall}'' 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. 
 
 - Ibid. Elwyu and Courthope's edition, vol. x. p. 86. The letter as 
 there given is dated Nov. 7, and lias 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 incorrect. It was readvertised and 
 reissued in February of that year. 
 
 435
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 relating to the poem. "Mr. Lawtoii 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." ^ 
 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 Avord to express his feel- 
 ings, Avas 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 Boliiigbroke, to whom iu consequence of it he had 
 1 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. Ixi., part ii. p. 1181. 
 
 436
 
 THE ATTACK ON VERBAL CRITICISM 
 
 been introduced, should employ him us the person to 
 father his own attack upon Pope himself, in the adver- 
 tisement prefixed to the genuine edition of the ' 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 Gentlemau's Magazine, vol. xix. p. 190, 1749. 
 
 437
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Theobald's edition and its reception 
 
 Neveii did any edition of Shakespeare encounter 
 greater dii'liculties in the course of its preparation than 
 did Tlieobald'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 wliich resort was not made. Long before a line of 
 it was printed, it Avas stigmatized as a piece of heavy 
 drudgery, the work of a plodder without wit or taste or 
 sense. The editor was censured for his i)resumption 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 tlie ephemeral publications of that day will 
 gain from some of them the impression tliat the work 
 Theobald contemplated was a crime against literature, 
 if not indeed against morals. 
 
 Shakespearean controversy can certainly show no- 
 I 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 destro}^ 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 " hundred mean and dishonest artifices " which had 
 been employed " to discredit the edition and cry down 
 the editor " during the period he had been engaged in 
 its preparation.! 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 Sbakespear," 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 cue Sp — ." - 
 
 In spite of all tbe 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 
 tbe 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, Avho 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 
 
 ^ Epigram VTII. in ' Collection of Pieces occasioned hy 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 sliown 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 tlie great 
 scholar Bentley, the antiquary Martin Folkes, tlie i>hy- 
 sicians Richard Mead and Hans Sloane, the coming 
 novelists Richardson and Fielding, tlie 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 tliis subscription must have 
 been looked upon as a great personal triumph. He 
 liad been held up to scorn as the dunce of dunces 
 in the most brilliant satire in tlie 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 
 multitude, 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 pubhc 
 had come to feel in what he woukl do, from its knowl- 
 edfre 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 notliing 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 wliich, 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 Tlieobald was engaged in the 
 preparation of its preface. ^ 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 Ave re 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.^ As the 
 date of its actual publication approached, the journals of 
 
 1 NichdTs, vol. ii. pp. G21 , G2f.. 
 
 2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i., Preface, p. Ixiv. 
 
 442
 
 THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION 
 
 the day reveal the progress he was making. " We hear," 
 says a news item of January, 1733, " 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." ^ 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 tlie subscription 
 would be closed at the latter end of the month.^ 
 
 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 24tli of the month the work 
 
 1 Daily .Journal, January 13, 1733. 2 ibid. April 5, 1733. 
 
 443
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 would be published.! Notice was given that the books 
 in quires would then be delivered to subscribers at the 
 house of the editor in Wj^an 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 J anuary, 17 34, 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 whicli 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 
 
 i"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 iu quires will be delivered to the subscribers at the 
 editor's house in Wyan's Court in Great Russell St., Blomcsbury ; wliere 
 attendance will be given all day long foi- that ]>urpose, and where the few 
 copies, yet unsubscjribed, 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 commentatoi-, 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 tlie most narrow 
 of pedants. 
 
 Tills 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 tlieir 
 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 correspoiid- 
 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 
 
 umphing like Caligula for having picked up cockle-shells 
 and periwinkles." ^ 
 
 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 tlie 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 Ciiticism ' was once more ad- 
 vertised for sale and Ijrought again to the attention of 
 the public. In the part of his preface in Avhich Tlieo- 
 bald had dealt with the attemjits to depreciate his as yet 
 unpublished edition by depreciating verl)al criticism it- 
 self, he hiid made a contemptuous reference to the piece. 
 "To this end," be WTote, "and to pa^^ a servile compli- 
 ment to Mr. Pope, an anonymous writer has, like a Scotch 
 pedlar in wit, unbraced his paclc on the sul)ject. 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 w^as in hopes we should have been both 
 abused witli 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 Palstaff does of 
 Poins ; — -'Hang liim, baboon! his wit is as thick as 
 Tewkesbury mustard ; there is no more conceit in him 
 than is in a mallet.' " ^ 
 
 ' Crnhstreot Journal, No. 220, TMaroli M, 17.34. 
 2 Theoljald'.s Sliakespearo, vol. i., Treface, p. lii. 
 
 446
 
 THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION 
 
 The point of tJiis sarcastic reference cannot Le 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 forwaid in its defence against this attack. lie 
 accompanied the advertisement of it with some remarks 
 which purport to pi-oceed from himself, but which, it is 
 hardly necessary to observe, were never of liis composi- 
 tion. They were avowedly suggested by the extract just 
 quoted from Theobald's preface. It was common, Gilli- 
 ver Avas made to say, for booksellers to lecommend 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 Avill own ingeniously to the town," he contin- 
 ued, " that Mr. Lewis Theobald (<« literal critic 1 think 
 he calls himself) has seriously declared in the preface to 
 Ids Shakespear, he can see, for his part, no manner of 
 conceit, wit or joke whatever in the poem I here 
 advertise." ^ 
 
 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 ' Grub-street Journal ' under his 
 own signature.^ It was manifestly written by Pope, with 
 
 1 Grab-street Junrnal, No. 218, Feb. 28, 1734. 
 
 2 Ibid. No. 2rj, iMarcb 7, 1734. 
 
 447
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the possible assistance of JNIallet, 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 Tewkesbiny 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 ^^^as generally 
 received came speedily to overawe the ' 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 tliat 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 liim 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
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 in controverting tliem 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 incontestably possesses of the 
 best Eno-lish critic.*' ^ 
 
 The high praise which was accorded in this article 
 was made even more significant by the grutlging com- 
 ments which accompanied it from the editor of the 
 journal. The impression produced by Theobald upon 
 the public had clearly cowed a writer wlio 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 Shakespeai'c 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 [)retty 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 ^ 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 Juunuil, IS'u. :i2'.), jNImv 1G, 1734. * gic. 
 
 450
 
 THEOBALD- S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION 
 
 tioiis levelled at nie, I must expect from your professed 
 impartiality, it will be equally vacant to my justification 
 of myself." ^ Theobald then went on to consider in this 
 and a later number '^ 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 hrst 
 article could not but admit that its writer was plainly 
 contending for truth moi'c 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."^ About a month after, he sent 
 him a bundle of connnents and corrections which con- 
 tained, he said, all tliat he could find to cavil at in the 
 edition. "I have been so exact," he wrote, "in my 
 inquisitorial search after hiidts that I dare undertake to 
 defend every note throughout the whole bulky work 
 save these thirteen I have objected to." '^ A little 
 earlier he had also forwarded fifty emendations and re- 
 marks which he had transcribed from those previously 
 sent, but wliich Theobald had failed to use. These he 
 regarded as being better than any of tliose published. 
 He desired to have them included in the volume con- 
 
 1 (Jruli-street Juiirnul, No. 232, June 6, 1734. 
 
 2 Ibid. No. 234, Juno 20, 1734. 
 
 3 Letter of May 17, 1734, Nichols, vol. ii. p. 634. 
 * Letter of June 20, 17.';4, ibid. p. G45. 
 
 451
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 taiiiing the minor poems, Avbieh was then expected to 
 appear speedily.^ JMost 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 '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 awai-e 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.^ 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 thorougli- 
 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 ISliakespeare, 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 out 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 j)assages 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 " 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 has 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 OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 there is iiolliiiig aboul it of the liopeless absurdity of 
 stallion. 
 
 Much more often, however, did the critic liave 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. E'urthermore the declaration 
 put forth by the poet in his preface that no innovations 
 ha d been m ade save ex fi de codic um gave occasion for 
 commentwhich was sedulously improved. Reading 
 after reading was pointed out which 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,! 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 'Ricliard 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, wliile understood, is 
 not expressed, 
 
 " My wretchedness unto a row of pins, 
 They'll talk of state." ^ 
 
 I 1 Theobiild's Shakesiiciire, vol. ii. p. \'i ; vul. iii. p. 317. 
 
 2 Act iii., sceuc 4. 
 
 454
 
 THEOBALD'S EDITION AND ITS RECEPTION 
 
 For tlie first line as found in the original editions Pope 
 gave the following extraordinary reading : 
 
 "My wretchedness suits witli a row of pines." ^ 
 
 " This is merely, I presume," commented Theobald, 
 " ex cathedra Popiana, for I can find no authority for it 
 an 3^ more than any sense in it."^ 
 
 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 liimself 
 gave a much nearer idea of the truth in the comment he 
 pubhshed upon a line left imperfect hj Howe, and as a 
 result, so left by Pope. This he filled out from the 
 orig-inal edition. "I have restored,*' he added, "an 
 infinite number of such passages tacitly from the first 
 impression." ^ The employment of ' infinite ' here is the 
 loosest of loose usage; but tliere was certainly a large 
 number of corrections made in TJieobald's text on the 
 authority of the early copies, but made silently. Fur- 
 tliermore, he not unfrequently passed by, without com- 
 ment, instances of scandalous neglect on Pope's part. 
 Thes,e inay sometimes have had their origin in the care- 
 lessness of tlie proof-reader. They couhl liave been 
 retained, however, only by the contrilnitory 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 Sliakespeare, vol. iii. p. 152. (Tliis volume is paged twice 
 from 91 to 20.'i.) 
 
 •- Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 310. 
 3 Ibid. vol. i. p. 384. 
 
 455
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Stepliano, promises to procure for him "young scamels 
 from the rock." ^ From the beginning this passage has 
 been a puzzle. The scamel is a dweller of the rocks 
 only in that enchanted island in which tlie 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 myster}^ which from the first surrounded it still 
 envelops it. Theobald in his text substituted for it 
 shamois ; but suggested as possible reatlings sea-malls or 
 stamiels. 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 m3'stery of his own. 
 In botli 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 foigiven. Nor was the poet confounded, 
 though he was irritated, by the favor with wliich the 
 new edition was received. The ' Grul>street Journal' 
 miffht 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 w^ay he had done his work. 
 He recognized the wisdom of ignoring the exposure of 
 blunders which it would have been Avorse 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. 
 
 45G
 
 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 uj)on 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 asfain the followinc^ month as if it were a new work.^ 
 An extract from it attackiuG^ Theobald was furthermore 
 inserted in the most widely circulated magazine of the 
 period.^ In the undated edition of ' The Dunciad,' pretty 
 certainly belonging to 1784, he printed these same lines, 
 and with them some remarks which ludd, 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, \\ith alterations of 
 the text, upon bare conjectures either of his own, or 
 any others who sent them to him, to which Mr. M. 
 
 1 See advertisement in ' Grnb-street Jonrnal,' No. 218, Feb. 28, 1734. 
 
 2 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. iv. p. 135, Maicli, 1734. 
 
 457
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 alludes in these verses of his excellent i)oem 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 inoves 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.' " ^ 
 
 Exhibitions of petty spite like these iiail little or no 
 effect at the time. In fact tlie repnto 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 plainl}^ 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 
 liiui been laboring in a field where the hai'vest was great 
 and the reward he received al)undant. 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 liave 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 Hue lf.4 of Book 1, ' Dnuciad ' (n. tl.), p. 97. 
 
 458
 
 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 SrilEAD OF POPE's INFLUENCE 
 
 Even in a generation wliich had the shghtest 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 tlie 
 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. I>ut tliere was an ally 
 figliting on Pope's side that was worth tlie whole host 
 of his volunteer assistants and hired retainers. He had 
 genius ; at best liis 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 Avith 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 lie produced a number of poems which 
 lifted liim 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 
 Enghsh 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 ahnost inevi- 
 tal)ly a distorted view. Yet to the harehest judgment 
 in the way of utter condemnation there is one sufficient 
 reply. During his whole life a large number of persons, 
 distinguished l)y worth and ability, were Pope's warm 
 friends. Those of tliem who died before him were 
 devoted to him to the last; those who survived him 
 remained faitliful to his memory. Doubtless some, 
 among the many with wliom he associated intimatel)^ 
 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 unselfisli 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 he 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 securins: 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 frojn 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 tlie 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 
 
 nevoleiice of his 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 m hich 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 I'ope must sedulously refrain 
 from looking too minutely into his dealings with those 
 with whom he 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 eiven 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 
 ensraoed in moi-e disreiiutable 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 maiidy to the extravagant estimate which came to 
 be taken of his genius and of the loftiness of his char- 
 acter. Tlie latter was largely the consequent of the 
 former. The men w^ho 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 fasliioned. 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 victorj^ 
 
 Few men of our day comprejiend 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 anytliing 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 tlie greatest English 
 poet of all time ; not merely the greatest of English 
 
 464
 
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 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 Avas full of the severest reflections upon Pope's char- 
 acter. It s[)oke of him as an object of universal scorn. 
 It charged liim 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 iierfection you at last arriv'd. 
 Which uoue have e'er excell'd that ever liv'd." ^ 
 
 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 innnediately produced by the man against 
 whom for a quarter of a century the poet had been di- 
 recting tlie shafts of his satire. The year before Pope 
 
 1 Page 5. 
 
 30 465
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 died Colley Gibber had been substituted in place of 
 Theobald as the hero of the Duuciad. 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 
 sach a sentiment. Yet ot' his persistent detractor he 
 said in all sincerity in the poem which he called an 
 epitaph, 
 
 "None e'er reached such heights of Helicon." ^ 
 
 If men who felt hostilitj', 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.^ 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 X.etter to Kreuningen, July 7, 1752. 
 
 ? Guthrie, ' IJeniarks on Tragedy,' p. 27, 
 
 466
 
 THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE 
 
 haps a poet whose superior antiquity never saw, and 
 whose equal posterity must not expect," if he in turn 
 had attempted to write a tragedy. 
 
 But a more striking instance still is tlie 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 Pope 
 was the greatest poet the world had ever produced. The 
 latter at the time of tlie conversation was unwilling to 
 take ground so extreme. He declared that Virgil gave 
 him equal pleasure, Homer equal warmtli, Shakespeare 
 greater rapture, and Milton more astonishment. But he 
 saw later, according to his own assertion, that he had 
 been indisposed to accord tlie 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, he though perfectly 
 drawn appeared too much in miniature. Brooke was 
 inclined to be angry that Pope had devoted so nuich 
 time to improving Homer. He should have spent it in 
 excelling him in his own way.^ 
 
 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 Pope's ' 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- 
 temj)oraries, 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 whicli 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. lie wrote a poetical ' Essay on Satire,' whicli 
 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."^ 
 
 As if a belief of this sort were not enough. Pope 
 succeeded in ffiiininc^ with the multitude of readers a 
 
 1 Dudslej's ' Collection/ vol. iii. p. 335. 
 
 468
 
 THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE 
 
 reputation for moral elevation wliicli 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 difllculties to all appearance far 
 more insuperable ; for his devious ways were well known 
 to numbers among his contemporaries. Any exposure 
 of them, however, he could and did profess to regard as 
 the outcome of envy, hatred, and malignity. His admirers, 
 who were lecrion, 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 liave shrunk with disgust, while making declara- 
 tions which a truthful man would have regarded with 
 abhorrence, his voice coidd 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 he pleased, he pleased by manly ways ! " ^ 
 
 If tliere was one quality of character of which Pope had 
 seemingly no appreciation, it \vas that of manliness. Yet 
 
 1 Ej)istle to Arliutlmot, 1. 377. 
 
 469
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 he deceived others as to his possession of it ; let us 
 charitiibly hope that lie 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. Tlie 
 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; vvliat he desired to be 
 considered was a man of virtue. His heart, he wrote to 
 Broome, was better than his head.^ 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 lie knew that his moral 
 life was much superior to that of most of the wits of the 
 day.'-^ Hill brushed aside almost contemptuously this 
 shallow pretence of iudifference to literary reputation ; 
 but Pope was wiser than his corrt'Spijudent. 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 Ihid. vol. X. p. 10, letter of January 26, 1731. 
 
 470
 
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 confess ; " but of my life and manners," he added, " I 
 do not yet repent one jot." ^ 
 
 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." ^ 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 aefain 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.^ This pretended 
 lack of concern about his literary, and deep-seated regard 
 for his moral, reputation crops out every now and then 
 in liis 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." * This picture of the halcyon 
 repose which had overtaken his nature required revision 
 the very next year. Then he set out recasting ' The 
 Uunciad' in consequence of the furious anger into 
 
 1 Popo's ' Works; vol. X. p. 19, letter to Hill, Feb. 5, 1731. 
 
 2 Il,i(l. 
 
 3 Ibid. p. 53, letter of June 9, 1738. 
 
 * Ibid. p. 1G6, letter of 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 behef 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, lie left off wandering in the maze 
 of fancy, but " stooped to truth and moralized his song." 
 It was during tlie 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 liteiury fame. 
 He opened it with one of the most brilliant pieces lie 
 ever wrote. This was the ' Ep istle to I)i \_Arbuthnot,' 
 already mentioned several times. Under the guise of an 
 apoloo-y 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 npon liimself, wrung from 
 him with apparent naturahiess 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 
 laborino; in the cause of virtue. 
 
 Theobald was far from being the main occasion of this 
 production ; l)nt as an incidental one lie had in it liis 
 place. Into it was woven, with changes and improve- 
 ments, the attack on verbal criticism which liad already 
 done duty in the so-called last volume of the ' ]\Iiscel- 
 lanies.' Its specific attack was aimed at him ; but the 
 "sanguine Sewall," wlio liad been his associate in 
 the earlier form of the satire,^ was now replaced by the 
 " slashing Bentley." This most effective misrepresenta- 
 tion of his critic, Pope had embodied now in a produc- 
 tion which justly excited tlio 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 damagijig effect upon Theobald's reputation. 
 
 The ' Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot ' gave the impression 
 that Pope was even more virtuous than he was great. 
 Another agency now came in not merely to confirm this 
 
 1 See page 301. 
 
 473
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 view, but to establish the truth of it beyond question. 
 This was the pubhcation of his correspondence. It 
 came out a little later in this same year, 1735, 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 tlie 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 otati 
 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 whicli 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 tlie 
 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 nuich inferior to his poetry ; 
 
 475
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 but the prose of liis letters was much iuferior 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 fdled his soul. But his manipulated 
 correspondence now proved in a way that could not be 
 firainsaid that the claims he had made for himself in his 
 'Epistle to Dr. xVrbuthnot' were fully justified. Here 
 was what must liave seemed to men the unanticiimted 
 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 readiuGf these unofuarded effusions of the soul 
 poured forth in the privacy of intimate friendship, but 
 now exposed to the world by the macliinations of a 
 scoundi-elly 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- 
 
 47G
 
 THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE 
 
 ture. He was regarded as not only tlie sublimest of 
 poets, but as the best of men. In the eyes of his ad- 
 mirers he was given up to tlie 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 
 Wiis 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.'' 
 
 I)Ut whatever in his secret heart he tliought of him- 
 self, there is no question as to what was tliought of him 
 by his multitude of readers. In tlieir eyes he was one 
 who loved rigliteousness and hated iniquity; therefore 
 he was an object of hatred t(i wicked men. There was 
 a minority — and during his life a strong and not unin- 
 fluential minority — mIio saw through the hollowness of 
 his pretensions and recognized the wide difference be- 
 tween his professions and his practices. Their feelings 
 were well expressed by Curll, 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 
 that Pope was as well acquainted with the art of evasion 
 
 477
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 as lie was with the art of poetry. ^ " Crying came our 
 bai-d, 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 wlio 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." ^ It Avas 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. If.S, Ictber of Ciirll to Broome, July 22, 
 1735. 
 
 2 Londou Miigaziiie, vol. xiii. ]>. 4C.1, September, 1744. 
 
 478
 
 THE SPREAD OF POPE'S INFLUENCE 
 
 dead poet in Avhicli he gave vent to his grief at this 
 particular prospect.^ Accordiug to him, 
 
 " Vice, now secure, her bliisliless 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 them 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." ^ 
 
 The periodical puljlications 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 jjoet. 
 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, Augnst, 1744. 
 - Ibid. p. 38G, July, 1744. 
 
 479
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Who shall ill virtue's sacred cause arise ? 
 
 Who lash the villain who the law deties? 
 
 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 I'ope."^ 
 
 About this sanio 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." ^ 
 
 This view of the poet's character was neither contined 
 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 " sole terror of a venal age." ^ Mason, in 
 that dreadful monody entitled ' Musasus,' not content 
 Avith 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 Thoiiip.son's 'Sickness,' Book 2 (pnhlisliecl April, 1745). 
 2 Loudon IMagaziue, vol. xxix. p. 2G0, JNIay, 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 pui-e 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 
 liad a tendency to diminish his poetical reputation." ^ 
 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 Avell-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 bis age, but was also looked upon as 
 tbe beaven-sent cbanipion of virtue ? If a man so bigb 
 in rank and reputation as Bolingbroke could encounter 
 obloquy for his attack on Pope after Pope was dead, we 
 can understand tbe feelings tbat 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 tlie 
 gonfalon of virtue against the thronging hosts of vice — 
 that such a man siiould 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 sufiicient 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 Humplirey, 
 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 liunest Tihbalds 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?" ^ 
 
 This is general ; the extract from the second piece is 
 more specific. It celebrated the courage of the poet in 
 confronting liis 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 tiiey envied thee." ^ 
 
 This last piece is of special interest because in it was 
 a])parently coutained the first indication of a view wliich 
 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 tlie 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 Lomlou Magazine, vol. iv. p. 35, January, 1735. 
 
 2 Gentleman's Magazine, October 1735, vol. v. p. 610. 
 
 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. Tt 
 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 
 ' 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 tlieir work upon Shakespeare shoAved 
 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 which 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
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 career in December, 1734, was entitled ' Tlie 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 iu taste. However, he has embarrassed his volumes with 
 many useless and impertinent and bad notes; and has left some 
 passages unexplained ; an instance of which we gave in the 6th 
 Oracle."! 
 
 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 
 ami 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 w^ent much farther. Of 
 certain of those whicli 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 w^ere specified 
 in the preface to his first edition ; in that to the second 
 he added a fourth, ' The Comedy of Errors.' It is not 
 surprising to have ' Titus Andronicus ' included among 
 the three. It is somewhat astoundino- 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 ' The Winter's Tale ' as having come throusfhout 
 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 throucfhout 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 da3^s 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 1623. But of one of the 
 
 487
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 seven rejected, Pericles, he reinforced the assertions of 
 previous critics, by decLiring that certain portions of it 
 were unquestionably Shakespeare's.^ Furthermore he 
 was unwilling to concede that the poet was the sole 
 author of the three jDarts 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.^ 
 
 1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 20. 
 
 2 Ibid. p. 110. 
 
 488
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 DirncuLTiES IN Theobald's way 
 
 The favor whicli 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 
 Tjounds to sa}' now that no such advance has been made 
 by any single person upon previous conditions as was 
 then ]iiade by him ; nor for the acceptance of tliis view 
 is it necessary to take into account the difliculties with 
 which he had to contend. Of even more importance 
 than the emendations he contributed was the course of 
 conduct lie indicated both by example and jjrecept as 
 necessary to follow in order to establish the o-cnuine 
 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 j)ossibly from the 
 text ; never to alter at all where 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." ^ Words like these 
 seem now of the nature of commonplace ; 3'et it was 
 
 1 Letter dated 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 tlie 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 
 SiXvy one then. 
 
 The alterations from tlie 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 
 Ilawley Bishop. The two men for a long time met 
 once a week to go over a play together and communi- 
 cate to each otlier 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 tlie marvellous. In this par- 
 
 490
 
 DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY 
 
 ticular lie 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 eiven 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 settlemejit 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 l^ost,' 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 scratoht, search, or search : 
 
 '^ Nallianael . Laus den, bene inleUigo. 
 Holafernes. Borne boon for hnori prescinn ; 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 genera- 
 tions, was portentously dull. lie altered the hcne of 
 Nathanael's speech to ho7ie, which he explained as a vo- 
 cative of address. This word, according to his theory, 
 
 491
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 the schoolmaster deems to be a mistake of the curate for 
 the adverb, and therefore makes the f oUowing reply : 
 
 ^^ Bone? — bone, for bene; Prisciau a little scratcird ; 'twill 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 convincinsc 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- 
 tury 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 
 
 mentarj remarks about liim, and further with scores — • 
 about three-score in fact — of exphmations 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 tlie man he dehghted to call his friend could 
 not induce liim to tolerate. ]>ut though he dissented, 
 he always gives the imjiression that he dissented with 
 recrret. If he refused to disturb the text so as to admit 
 the proposed change, lie 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. Tliey were too fine, he said, 
 too brilhant, even if not convincing, to be passed over in 
 silence. It became tlierefore 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 an unbounded spirit." ^ 
 
 No proper justice can be done to Theobald for what 
 
 1 Nichols, vol. ii p. 340. 
 
 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 patli. 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 tlie 
 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 E,owe 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 
 lano-uaofe with that of the orig^inal from which he had 
 borrowed his incidents. Neither of them read carefully 
 the Engflish chroniclers to establish the text of the his- 
 torical plays or the translation of I*lutarch\s ' Lives ' to 
 establish that of the Roman ones. Tlie 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 liad been mentioned witli 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 liis exist- 
 ence; at all events it is to H airs chronicle that he 
 makes the verv 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 couhl be found ; but 
 much of it now familiar was liardly 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 rc({uired laborious research, uidess hai)py 
 chance brought it to the attention. The diriiculty 
 which a man of limited means must have encountered 
 in acquiring the most essential works might well have 
 deterred from the undertaking a S[)irit much more 
 adventurous than Theobald's, as well as one with a 
 purse much better filled. To some extent his wants 
 Avere temporarily supplied by men who appreciated his 
 ability to perform the task he had set before himself. 
 In the preface to his edition he expressed his thanks 
 to the antiquary, Martin Folkcs, for having furnished 
 him with a copy of the first folio when he had not been 
 able to meet with it anions^ the booksellers.^ To Coxeter 
 he acknowledged his obligations for providing him witli 
 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 tins sort could not always be relied 
 upon. In 1729 Theobald wrote to Warburton that he 
 might probably get help lor the explanation of certain 
 passages from Ascham's ' Toxophilus.' ^ JVlore 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.^ 
 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.' ^ But he never got 
 a sijrht of the work. Hence he remained in ijjnorance 
 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 
 tlien 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 di-amatist was often spoken of as 
 obsolete. To some extent it was then obsolete. Dryden 
 more than once characterized it as unintelligible in 
 places. For obvious reasons this condition of things has 
 now disajipeared almost wholly. A great writer, long 
 and generally loved and admired and studied, imposes in 
 
 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 299. 
 
 - Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 410. 
 
 3 Michols, vol. ii. p. 578. 
 
 406
 
 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 
 famihar 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- 
 mininor the nicaninGT which an editor of that time was 
 sure to encounter. Dictionaries of all sorts were imper- 
 fect. No 2-eneral 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 Avell 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 meae^er list were set words such as carol, dulcet, 
 dumps, foemen, gleeful, moody, tricksy, and several 
 32 49T
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 others which even in that day did nut need defniition for 
 any one capable of I'eading Shakespeare. INIany of the 
 others were explained wrongly. There were some which 
 appear to be the compiler's personal contribution to 
 the vocabulary of ai-cliaic English speech. 
 
 Furthermore, in order to appreciate the dilliculties 
 which Theobald was called upon to meet, in the mere 
 establishment of the text, we nnist bear in mind Ikjw 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 i)eriod, they 
 were then so far from being at the command of every- 
 body they were sometimes not even known to anybody. 
 Nor, when knowji, had their value been subjected to any 
 severe scrutiny and exactly determined. Tliere were a 
 number of questions of importance which presented 
 themselves to any investigator. Wliat was the relation 
 between the quartos and tlie 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 tliem 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 
 
 408
 
 DIFFICULTIES IN TIIEOBAUrS WAY 
 
 the second one was the more valuable. He specilically 
 spoke of it as being on the whole esteemed " as the 
 best impression of Siiakespeare." ^ lie had not then 
 seen the first folio. When he did, it was to him clearly 
 a revelation. From it he restored numerous readinsfs 
 which in all the later editions had become depraved. 
 Yet it is perhaps doubtful if even he, while recognizing 
 its gi'eat 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 tlie 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 whicli have not been looked at from 
 every point of view. Learnuig 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 forgetfulness, have been exhumed to explain 
 passages not otherwise comprehensible. The customs of 
 different jieriods 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 Kestored, p. 70. 
 
 499
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 it was not known in the eighteenth century. In conse- 
 quence, Theobald wiis perplexed by the following pas- 
 safje in Kinsr John: 
 
 " standing on slippers, wliicli his nimble haste 
 Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet." ^ 
 
 " 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." ^ 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." ^ 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 tlie 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. 
 I '-^ Nicliols, vol. ii. p. 392. 
 
 3 Juhiisuu's Shakespeare, vol. iii. ]>. 475. 
 
 600
 
 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- 
 insf of words in common use. Tliat he sometimes failed 
 was inevitable. In tlie 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 ' Timon 
 of Athens ' he changed the w^ord 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 whicli Steevens himself, with 
 far greater opportunities, was later to make. 
 
 And yet, with the lack of all tlie 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 
 
 601
 
 THE TEXT OF SlIAKESPEAllE 
 
 doing. This was partly owing to tlie fact that he was 
 tlie liist in the held. But he Avould not have been in 
 the field at all, had he not at tliat early day been in the 
 possession of an amount of learning wliieh lias never re- 
 ceived its full recognition. It extended to all depart- 
 ments wliiclr could illustrate the text: history ancient 
 and modern, natural history, fiction, poetrj^, classic litera- 
 ture, the little known literature of tlie Elizabethan age, 
 the less known literature of the age preceding. Let us 
 consider some of the more cons])icuous of the obscure 
 passages whose meaning he Avas the first to reveal. As a 
 starting-point take tlie 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. Jerouiuiie; go to tliy cold bed and \va,rm 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 ' The Spanish Tragedy,' the second 
 part of ' Jeronimo.' On account of the popularity of 
 the piece and perhaps in consequence of some peculiarity 
 in the acting, the phrase ' 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 saintsliip.^ 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." ^ 
 
 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 tlie passage in 
 the old play of ' Solim an and P erseda ' 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 ^ 
 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 nuist in its actual representation always 
 have produced a sensation. Whatever was the impres- 
 sion it made upon the ruder part of tlie 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 witli the medi;cval 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 1. 
 
 3 King Ileury IV., Act ii., scene 4. 
 
 503
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 '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 
 ' Twelt'tli Niccht' that "Cressida was a besfGrar " was 
 borrowed from 'The Testament of Criseide.'^ This 
 had been Iougt included in the editions of Chaucer's 
 works, though now known to have been the composi- 
 tion of the Scotch poet, Ilenryson. Ignorant he was of 
 Lodcrc's ' Itosalvnde' ; but lie recognized and announced 
 the reseml)lance between certain of the characters and 
 incidents in ' As You Like It ' and the tale of ' Game- 
 lyn.' - This latter had appeared but a short time before, 
 in Urry's edition of Chaucer. lie found that the song 
 sung by the grave-digger in ' ITamlet ' was taken from 
 'Tottel's MiscelLmy' published in 1557. Naturally, 
 though wrongly, he ascribed it to the Earl of Surrey,^ 
 because he appeared on the title-page of tliat 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. Ilarsnett'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.* 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 quai'relling from three works 
 wliich he mentions, one of wliich was Vincentio Saviola's 
 
 1 Thcolald's Shakospeare, vol. ii. p. 498. " Ibid. p. 187. 
 
 3 Ibid. vol. vii. p. 34(). * Nichols, vol. il. pages 209, 230, 490. 
 
 60-4
 
 DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALirS WAY 
 
 ' Practice of the Rapier and Dagger.' ^ Warhurton 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 
 witli historical autliorities not generally known enabled 
 him to show that the remote original of the story of 
 ' Hamlet ' was to be found in the Ilistoria Daniea of 
 Saxo Grammaticus.2 So again a similar familiarit}^ with 
 the Eiu'opean 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 "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, 
 makinsT 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 suljstituted the heir of the 
 first f olio.^ Finally, the allusion in ' Twelfth Night ' to 
 the Egyptian thief wlio kills the one he loves was shown 
 by him to have been taken from the ^Uthiojnca of the 
 Greek romance-writer, Heliodorus.* 
 
 1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 264. - Ihid. vol. vii. p. 226. 
 
 3 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 32. * Ibid. vol. ii. p. 528. 
 
 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 witli them has led 
 us in consequence to forget tlie 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 tliat knowledge 
 assuredly was. He may have lieen unaware, at tlie out- 
 set, of the very existence of Marlowe, though he was 
 certainly familiar with some of his works. He followed 
 the volume of KUO in giving to Shakespeare the 
 credit of the authorship of tlie famous poem entitled 
 ' The Passionate Shepherd to his Love.' ^ At least this 
 was true at the time his first edition appeared; it is 
 noticeable that tlie 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 sheplierd," 
 and the saw with which he is there credited.^ 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. " Act ii., scene 7. 
 
 606
 
 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 tlie name of that author. He 
 was also acquainted witli 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,' — 
 
 " Re she as foul as was Florentius' love," ^ — 
 
 of the passage in which Petruchio expresses his willing- 
 ness to marry any one provided that she had sufficient 
 dowry. " 1 confess," he wrote to Warburton, " this is 
 a piece of secret history that I am wholly unacquainted 
 with." ^ 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." ^ 
 
 Another incident discloses in a striking manner the 
 character and the characteristics of the two men. 
 Theobald wrote to his friend about " Bargulus, the 
 strong lUyrian pirate," mentioned in the second part 
 of ' Henry VI.' * The old quarto, he further said, has 
 
 1 Act i., scene 2. " Nicliols, vol. ii. p. 334. 
 
 3 Warburtou's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 410. ^ Act iv., sceue 1. 
 
 507
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 " mio-lity Abradas, tlie great Macedonian pirate." ^ 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."^ 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 Ik Officiis. Accordingly he proceeded to misquote 
 Theol)al(rs note, to sneer at his use of the word ' legend,' 
 and to express himself as somewhat shocked by his pred- 
 ecessor's hack of familiarity with Bargulus. " And yet 
 he is to Ijo met with in TuUy's Offices," lie said conde- 
 scendingly.^ 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 lie had lieen vaunting his superiority. 
 " Ncitlicr of these wights " had been Theobald's words ; 
 tliey were carefully changed into " this wiglit." 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 tlian mere erudition that 
 
 1 Nichols, vol. ii. p. 440. " Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 266. 
 " Warburton's Shakespeare, vol. v. p. 23. 
 
 508
 
 DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY 
 
 Theobald possessed. Examples of the acumen he showed 
 ill 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.^ The 
 early quartos and the folios, the editions of Rowe and 
 Pope had coincided in using the form cannon. Tliis was 
 then an occasional variant spcdling of canon. Tint with 
 the disappearance of the knowledge of tliis fact, wliat 
 was easily understood in the early part of the seven- 
 teenth century had been forgotten in the early part of 
 the eigfhteenth. The form cannon had tlien 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'^ which speaks of the divine pro- 
 liibition aorainst self-slauofhteiv^ Tic mentioned further 
 that his reading had been adopted hy " 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., scene 2. - Act iii., scene 4. 
 
 2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 2.'ir>. 
 
 509
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 It was this same sanity of judgment wliich 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 
 ajiainst 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 wliich 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. ' 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 
 tlie incidents of that drama conhn-m to the knowledge 
 with which we are all presumal)ly 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 countiy. 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 liis tales lie represented Saragossa 
 as the chief city of Sicilia ; and a little later in the same 
 piece he spoke of Adnietus dying for her husband Alcest. 
 In disiecrard 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 whicli ' The Winter's 'J'ale ' was founded. I'hco- 
 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 tlie 
 soil " for " fertile the isle," as it appears in the play. 
 His fiiend, however, refused to make the required 
 subservience to geographical accuracy, though he Avas 
 obliging enough to term the proposed change "a veiy 
 reasonable conjecture." ^ 
 
 Furthermore, the astuteness Avhich 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 lie generally limited his expla- 
 nations of meaning to the places which he had either 
 
 1 Theobald's Sliakesjjeare, vol. iii. p. 98. 
 
 611
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 amended himself or to those in which he controverted 
 the exphmations of others. The penetration he showed 
 in tlicse 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 difliculty. 
 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.,' ^ 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 difliculty. 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.^ 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 lu ailed 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.
 
 DIFFICULTIES IN THEOBALD'S WAY 
 
 quenco that tlie alteration effected by Pope not only 
 made the line commonplace, bnt 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," saj^s the new king, "is gone 
 wild into his grave, for now all my wild affections lie 
 entombed witli him." ^ So Theobald explained it ; so did 
 Malone more than half a centuiy 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 Tlieobald's Shakespeare, vol. iii. p. 530. 
 
 513
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 No one can rise from a thorough study of the work 
 which Theobald accomplished without coming to enter- 
 tain a liigli opinion of the sanity of liis 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 u[)on his abilities 
 and achievements on account of the persistent detraction 
 which for a century and a half has waited upon what he 
 was and what he did. Bnt there is no intention of seek- 
 ing to convey the impression that lie 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 wortli while to designate one pecu- 
 
 514
 
 DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 liarity of his editiou which is auiioying to the reader 
 rather than [)rejudicial to the actual value of the work. 
 Pope had followed iu 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 hrst scene in 'The Merry Wives of 
 Windsor,' as found in tlie folios, in Rowe, and in modern 
 editions, appears in his as divided into five. Theobald 
 did not imitate him in this particukir. 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. Tiiis 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 Kt)man authors conveying the 
 same idea as that ex[)ressed in the text. With compari- 
 sons of this sort his edition Avas 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 his own author 
 was fairly sure to find a place in his notes. He did not 
 
 515
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 usually — thougli 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 foho 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 tliey 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 intlicated by his adopting the erron- 
 
 516
 
 DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDmoy 
 
 eous statement of the inaii whose name he forofot to 
 mention, that in these the word was spelled latteii. 
 Theobald was not content with explaining the term as 
 designating a thin i)iece 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.^ 
 
 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 deahng with a multiplicity 
 of details. Theobald informs us, for instance, that the 
 Menoichmi of Plautus appeared in an English transla- 
 tion as early as 1515.^ This might have been regarded as 
 a typographical error, had he not cut off that explanation 
 by making the further assertion that it Avas 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.^ 
 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 
 ' Othello ' * in which lago comments upon Roderigo in the 
 following manner: 
 
 1 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. 228. 
 
 2 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 4. 
 
 ^ Langbaiue's ' English Dramatic Poets, ed. of 1691, p. 455. 
 * Act v., sceue 1. 
 
 617
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 " I have rubbed this young quat almost to the sense, 
 And he grows angry." 
 
 Quat is a Avoid beloiigiu!^ to the dialect of Warwick- 
 shire and its adjacent counties. It still retains there tlie 
 signification it has here, of ' pimple,' ' small boil ' or 
 ' blister.' It is a Avord 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 1G22. 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 tlie correct explanation.^ 
 
 1 The explanation of the meaning of the word first appeared in a com- 
 municatiou to the ' Britisli Magazine,' p. 425 of tlie volume for 1748. It was 
 signed Shakespearianus, and dated Leicester, August, 1748. " Quat," said 
 the writer, " is ^provincial word, vulgarly used, and well understood, in the 
 parts of ^Varwickshire near Stratford upou Avon (Shakespear's birth- 
 
 518
 
 DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDITION 
 
 In determininof 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 difficult}^ In 'Antony and Cleopa- 
 tra,' 1 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 : 
 
 "]\Iine 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.^ 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 pimjilc, or hoile, which heing apt to itch much, conse- 
 quently provokes a good deal of scratching, or rubbing, and beiuf,' rubb'd, 
 grows hot, painful, and red, which is called in the same country dialect 
 (inijrij." It is from this communication tliat Johusou probably got his 
 definition. 
 
 1, Act. iii., scene 13. 
 
 2 Theobald's Shakespeare, vol. vi. p. 284. 
 
 519
 
 THE TEXT OE SHAKESPEARE 
 
 SO attribute it. Wliat was even worse, lie was disposed 
 to make his own misunderstanding tlie 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." ^ 
 
 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 tldll- 
 horse of Jill-horse — in the original authority philhorse. 
 But while, like Pope, ho su])stitnted words and hn-ms 
 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. Ilis substitutions 
 were not many when he acted on his own independent 
 judgment; but even then tliey were too many. In the 
 two instances, for example, in which si if It// 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. ]>ut tliere 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 liis dislike of the method 
 by which the w^ord had been formed, or to his dislike 
 of the meaning given to it, most readers of the present 
 day will agree with him that heaufified, so used, is " an 
 ill phrase, a vile phrase." Hut vile as it is, few will be 
 1 Theobald's Shakespriive, vol. vii. p. 366. 
 
 520
 
 DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDFTION 
 
 found who would not prefer it to beatified, which Theo- 
 bakl, 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 ' ^ he substituted approof 
 ior proof in the line, 
 
 " Dear my lord, if you, in your owu proof." 
 
 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 }>aid to the judgment of others tliat his 
 edition received its greatest blemishes. This Avas par- 
 ticularly true of the influence exerted over it by two 
 men, one his violent enemy and the other his professed 
 friend. Tlie most serious injury that befell Ids 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 
 time to suffer from tlie submission of his own judgment 
 to the vasfarics of a man who was little content to be 
 satisfied w^ith the obvious sense of a passage, but con- 
 stantly prcftuTed to read into Sliakespeare meanings 
 which Shakespeare liad never dreamed of and would 
 not have been Shakespeare if he had. 
 
 1 Act iv., scene 1. 
 
 521
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 There is no question indeed tliat 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 tlie 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 EDITION 
 
 the actual situation. AVhat was good in Tlieobald'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 flourishinq; 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 as^e 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 tlien 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. But it is manifest that it was from no 
 motives of policy that Theobald refrained from making 
 much adverse comment upon tlie emendations of this 
 sort effected by his great contemporary. He himself 
 
 523
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 sincerely shared in tlic 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 liour 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 Howe and Pope to omit words in order 
 that the line might run more smoothly. Tliis, he as- 
 serted, was advancing a false nicety of car not only 
 against the license of Shakespeare's numbers, but against 
 the license of all English versification in common with 
 that of other languages.^ 
 
 But Theobald's occasional principles were distinctly 
 better than his regular practice. It was not often the 
 case that he took exception to T'opc's alterations in the 
 supposed interests of the meter. He found fault indeed 
 at times with liis 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 autliorities, 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 
 Tlieobald should adopt numerous changes made by his 
 predecessor. A general statement to tliis effect has ap- 
 peared in a previous cliaptcr. 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 brouglit out sliarply by 
 selecting one of the plays and observing the changes 
 from tlie original wliich were silently introduced into 
 its text by Pope and as silently accepted by Tlieobald. 
 
 Attention has been called earlier to the vast number 
 of these changes. In the particular drama selected for 
 consideration — ' Measure for INIeasure ' — 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 V)y 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 
 
 625
 
 THE TEXT OF SITAKESPEAJIE 
 
 pretext for Miilone'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.^ 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. Ixvi. 
 
 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. AmoncT them is included the 
 conversion of passages into verse which had previously 
 been printed as prose, and the similar conversion into 
 prose of wliat 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 Ihst 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. Tliese 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 iifty-three. As regards 
 the comparative importance of the alterations accepted 
 or rejected the preponderance of weight is distinctly on 
 the side of the latter, lint with all tlje allowance to 
 be made on this score; with all the consideration that 
 needs to be given to the intrinsic insignificance of most 
 of these clianges, 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 cliaracter. 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 Avould content itself with merely 
 
 528
 
 DEFECTS OF THEOBALD'S EDFTION 
 
 noting them without regarding them. To substitute the 
 I 'm of a previous revision for / am., ov an / have for 
 Fve, 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 A\as 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 giv^e 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 Avithout 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 
 U 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 
 refi-ained from calling attention to his ignorance or his 
 errors. In his case, to be sure, there had been no pro- 
 vocation. It Avas different witli Theobald. He was, 
 therefore, perfectly justifiable in exposing the incom- 
 petence of the man who had pursued him with unre- 
 lentingf virulence. But so lonjr as he undertook to 
 establish beyond controversy the conmiission of blunders 
 by Pope lie was murally bound to exhibit any special 
 instance, or at least the collective number of instances, 
 in which lie 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 tliat 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 EDFTION 
 
 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 ' Hamlet,' ^ 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 
 after the Restoration, it was dropped from the text. 
 Theobald pointed out that tlie 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."^ 
 In his second edition Pope calmly appropriated this 
 explanation, almost in its very words, in a note, as if it 
 
 1 Act iji., scene 4. - Shakespeare Restored, p. 48, 
 
 531
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 came from liimsclf. .Vs Theobald never made any pub- 
 lic claim that he had been the first to give the proper 
 interpretation of the passage, connnentators 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 nundjcrs of 
 Pope's readings Avithout acknowledgment, from the 
 modern stand[)oint he cannot be deemed blameless. 
 Furthermore, he nuist l)e held i'esi)onsible for introduc- 
 ing the practice, which lias since prevailed largely 
 among Shakespeare commcutators, 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 pri)u-i[)les in our own practice. There was 
 no one of tliat early dny who criticised previous editors 
 with more freedom than did Dr. Johnson. He rarely 
 neglected an opportunity to say something disparaging 
 of Theobald, lie professed and doubtless entertained 
 profound respect for tlie 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 unjustiliable 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 jiossibly lead us to take a different 
 view. As Hosea Bigiow discovered that civilization
 
 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 pi'actice 
 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. ( )n 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-doi^en of his best 
 emendations would have made the permanent re[)uta- 
 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. Wlien 
 they venture to speak in terras of approval, what is said is 
 often said half-heartedly and sometimes apologetically. 
 
 633
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 Theobald's later reputation 
 
 Though at tlie outset Theokild'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 tlie 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 liad a right to 
 anticipate — that the superiority of his edition would be 
 so convincino; 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 satirb upon me ; and if 
 my edition do not wipe out tliat, I ought to be content 
 to let the charge be fixed ; if it do, the reputation gained 
 will be a greater triumph than resentment." ^ 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, iu 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 
 askinsr too much of human nature to adhere to a resolu- 
 tion so good. " There are provocations," he wrote, 
 " wbieli a man can never quite forget." Unconscious 
 of his own im}>otoiice 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, [)ut conliue 
 myself at least to the limits of common decency." ^ 
 
 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. Mucli 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. Tlie 
 thing for him to do was to exhiljit 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. " 1 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 cjenerations. 
 
 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 slicfhtest 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. j\ien in general are 
 too fully occupied with the consideration of their own 
 quarrels to care long for the quarrels of others. 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 wliich 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 feeUngs 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 latter'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, lie 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 liad 
 since been made for elucidating a single play.^ 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 altogetlier 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 Malone's Shakespeare, vol. i. p. Ixvii (1790), 
 
 539
 
 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 liimself originated. He was always willing and 
 even eager to share the repute of his own discoveries 
 with his friends and helpers. There is liardly 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 liis own an alteration or emendation 
 in wliich 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, 
 liad the fact been left unnoted by him, would liave 
 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 whicli the divines 
 and scholars Avho followed liim and maligned him were 
 particularly careful not to adopt. 
 
 And what has been Theobald's reward for tliis often 
 unnecessary recognition of tlie pretensions of others ? 
 What benefit has he deiived from that scrupulous avoid- 
 ance of arrogating exclusively to himself a single thing 
 to which any person, dead or alive, could la}^ 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 
 he remarked tliat 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 l)e led to draw 
 the inference that the one person who had the least to 
 do with Tlieobald's edition of Shakespeare was Theobald 
 himself. 
 
 Another result of tliis 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 fi-equently forgot to mention liis name. They 
 either assumed to themselves the credit of liis 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, tlie 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 letter ^ 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 lisk of claiminfj 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 shoukl 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. ^ 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, 
 thouGfh 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." * The preface was not anything to be proud 
 
 1 Johnson's Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 361. ^ Vol. iv. p. 153. 
 
 3 Vol. iv. p. 165. * Nichols, vol. ii. p. 62 
 
 643 
 
 o
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 of; but sucli as it was Warburton marked in liis own 
 copy of Theobald's edition the passages in it for which 
 he was himself responsible. ^ 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 liad suffered would 
 have sufficed ; it would have been proclaimed vocifer- 
 ously. Yet this iictitious 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 wliich Tlieobald's 
 emendations and explanations wei-e 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 yiuikesijcare (ed. oi' 18'Jl), vol. i. p. xxxi. 
 
 5^4
 
 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 otliers to be more accu- 
 rate." Whom did he teach? it may well be asked. 
 Certainly not Hanmei-, 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." ^ 
 
 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 Steevens' Shakespeare, Heed's Advertisement, ed. of 
 1803, vol. i. p. 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 '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 
 tlie plays of the di'amatist which had from time to time 
 appeared. They were, he said, absolutely below serious 
 notice. One exception, however, he made to this sweep- 
 inof 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 
 sjenius." ^ 
 
 Johnson never forgot any benefit he received in the 
 days of his adversity. He did not seek to analyze tlie 
 motives which had led Warburton to speak of him in 
 terms so flattering. It did not occur to him that the 
 praise licstowed may have been due to the compliment 
 he had paid to his connuender'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 tliat while obscure and almost penniless 
 he had been selected for approval where all others had 
 been censured, lie entertained henceforth a grateful 
 remembrance of the man. " He praised me," Boswell 
 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 Warburtoii's Sliakes])care, 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 exliibited 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 ' JNIacbeth ' 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 .Toluisoii liad 
 ceased to speak indulgently of Theobald's i'ailnres or 
 to express any admiration for his successes. In his 
 famous preface, one of the most widely read pieces he 
 ever wrote, his tone Avas disparaging and contemptuous 
 througliout. He re-echoed all the misstatements which 
 Pope had originated and Warburton had repeated, lie 
 spoke of Theobald as restoi'ing 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 tlie artilicial 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 lieavy diligence with very slender 
 powers." But wliile 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 
 
 648
 
 THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION 
 
 lie had done lie 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 Iiad his ability and 
 acquirements been innnensely greater than they were, 
 they would not have enabled him to hold his giuund 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 botli, 
 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 
 readinaf. A not unconnnon belief of the time Avas 
 expressed by one of CapelFs reviewers. He tells us 
 that "]\Ir. Theobald, who obtained some degree of 
 fame merely by being the adversary of Pope, pos- 
 sessed neitlier ingenuity, judgment nor scarcely common 
 sense." ^ The snmg 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.^ All sorts of charo-es were devised. IMen 
 
 o 
 
 1 English Review, February, 1784, vol. iii. p. 171. 
 
 2 E. (J., Goldsuiitli's ' Citizen of the World,' letter 113. 
 
 549
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 were sure to find in liiui 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 Avhich would re- 
 bound to his own credit. He accused him therefore 
 not merely of inattention, but of disingenuousness. 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 liis own list of authorities. In making his 
 collation he had therefore committed an error. In 
 makinff 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 morahst 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 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 ^ 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 eai'ly enough to 
 serve the purpose for which he pretends to have perused 
 this imaginary stock of ancient literature." ^ 
 
 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 Ixviii. 
 
 2 Johuson ami Steevens' Sliakespeare, 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 INIr. 
 Tonson till the time of his death," This was intended 
 to give the impression, not merely that Theobald owned 
 no moi-e 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 ^ 
 Isaac Reed was permitted to follow it up witli some 
 further information. It was in September, 1744, that 
 Tlieobald died. In the month following, his books were 
 dispersed. " His library,*' wrote Reed, " was advertised 
 to be sold by auction by Charles Corbctt, and on tlie 
 third day was the following lot: two hundred and 
 ninety-five old Enghsh plays in quarto, some of them 
 so scarce as not to be liad at any price ; to many of 
 whicli are manuscript notes and remarks by Mr. Theo- 
 bald, all done up neatly in boards and single plays. 
 Tliey 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 liad, however, made a mistake. The lot he 
 specified as embracing two liundred 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. ]>. 331. 
 
 552
 
 THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION- 
 
 authors, among ^^■llom were Shakespeare, Beaumont and 
 Fletcher, Massinger, Lyly, and Marston. The number 
 of plays in Theobald's library must clearly have reached 
 several hundred.^ 
 
 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 wlio 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-five 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 coUec- 
 
 1 The title-page of the catalogue of Theohald's library offered for sale 
 runs as follows : 
 
 " A Catalogue of the Lihrary of Lewis Theobald, Esq., deceas'd : Anioug 
 which are many of tlie Classicks, Toots aud Historians, of the best Edi- 
 tions. Many Variorums aud Dcdjiliins. Several Curious ]\Ianu.scri]>ts. 
 Very near a complcat collection of the scarce old Quarto I'lays, all neatly 
 done up singly in Boards. And other curious Articles. Which will be 
 sold by Auction, on Tuesday, Oct. 2.3rd, 1744, ami tlin three following 
 Evenings, beginning exactly at Five o'Clock at St. Tanl's CoflFee-IIouse, in 
 St. Paul's Churcii-Yard. By Charles Corbett." 
 
 Three years later an advertisement by Thomas Osborn in the St. James 
 Evening 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 tlie accusation was that he had 
 too much lumber of the sort in his head. Pope, wn^ose 
 deficiency lay on that side, described in the original 
 ' Dunciad ' the contents of Theobald's library. He called 
 it ' a Gothic Vatican ' in days when the terra ' 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 ^vas 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 scliolars in various departments of learning; 
 with English authors whom everybody reads, but much 
 
 554
 
 THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION 
 
 more with those whom scarcely anyljody 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 laiowledge 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 an}^ 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 writing's he refers. His familiaritv 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, Statins, Suetonius, Publius Syrus, Ter- 
 ence, TibuUus, Aurelius Victor, and Virgil. In Greek 
 the same wide range of reading was displayed. He 
 cited passages from ^schylus, Anacreon, Appian, Aris- 
 tophanes, Athenreus, Dion Cassius, Dioscorides, Eurip- 
 ides, Heliodorus, Harpocration, Hesychius, Hesiod, 
 Homer, Menander, Mussbus, 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 depreciatiori 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 
 equahty with Mr. Pope — perhaps even his superior." ^ 
 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 tlie 
 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.^ A few months later he made a state- 
 ment to the same effect in a letter to one of the journals.^ 
 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. 
 
 3 Grab-street .Jourual, No. 232, June 6, 1734. 
 
 557
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 have been a vast advance upon anyUiing 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- 
 cove]-ed, 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 mianeled 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 lie 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 tlie 
 
 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 'notified by the bell' must be owned to 
 be very strong. I have not yet by my enquiry satisfied 
 myself." ^ 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 sisrnificatioii of the word. It was not till Malone's 
 edition of 17U0 thiit Pojie's ridiculous detinition 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. lUit 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 amoag 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 Johnsou's Shakespeare, vol. x. p. 168 
 
 559
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 in his discussion of Farmer's ' Essay on the Learning of 
 Shakespeare.' It was not allowed to be over-enthusias- 
 tic. Nor Avas 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 lie 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 trciited him unfairly, in deviating 
 from the paths of poetry to intrude into the walks of 
 commentatorship, especially as it was knt)wn that Theo- 
 bald had been long engaged upon Shakespeare before 
 the booksellers enlisted Tope." ^ As anything of tliis 
 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." 
 
 Rut 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 Eraser's Magazine, vol. xx. p. 200, September, 1839. 
 
 560
 
 THEOBALD'' S LATER REPUTATION 
 
 that guides all liis 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 liis 
 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." 
 Iirnorance 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 tlie 
 30 561
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 current of opinion \vliicli 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, " 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." ^ 
 
 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 Humerous 
 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.^ In the great variorum 
 edition now appearing lie 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. 1). xxxii, ed. of 1891.
 
 THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION 
 
 Shakespeare ever had." ^ 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 baflled 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 wliicli 
 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 Furuess's ' New Variorum edition of Shakespeare,' vol. iii. p. 456. 
 
 663
 
 THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 followed by Macaulay when lie put forth his dictum 
 that Boswell 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 flourishing 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." ^ 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 
 
 » Pope's ' Works,' vol. iv. p. 27. 
 
 664
 
 THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION 
 
 both had undertaken; and he had exhibited Pope to 
 the world in a position of somewhat ridicuhius 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, tlie greater was 
 his chance of success as a commentator. To be endowed 
 with dulness specially qualihed 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 Avho had 
 assumed the office of an editor. 
 
 F'rom 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 tlian 
 doubtful — if his reputation will ever recover from the 
 blow inflicted upon it by Ids 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 has 
 been done to liis 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 TEX T OF SHA KESPEA RE 
 
 to operate the potent influence oi' liini wlio was the great- 
 est of them all. 
 
 True it is that for us tlie glamour which once invested 
 the name of Vope 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 lie 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 And 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 
 
 5QQ
 
 THEOBALD'S LATER REPUTATION 
 
 worth may be recognized ; but by the nicany 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
 
 INDEX 
 
 Abradas, 508. 
 
 Addison, Joseph, 5, 79, 93, 128, 
 
 203, 200, 202, 265, 800, 304, 35t), 
 
 475, 481. 
 Akensidk, Mark, 193. 
 Alexander and Lodowick, a 
 
 play, 15. 
 Alleyn, Edward, 11. 
 Anachronisms, indifference of 
 
 great authors to, 212. 
 Arbuthnot, ])r. John, 202, 324, 
 
 398. 
 Auden of Feversham, a play, 
 . 115. 
 
 Arnall, William, 303. 
 AscnAM, Roger, his 'Toxophilus,' 
 
 496. 
 A.SPECT, accentuation of, 151. 
 ASPUEY, for ospnij, 177. 
 
 ARTROIT, 361. 
 
 Atterbury, Francis, bishop of 
 
 Kochester, 81. 
 Austin, Jane, her defence of 
 
 novels, 37. 
 Author to be let. An, 377-379 
 Ayre, William, 384. 
 
 Bargulus, 507. 
 
 Beaumont, Francis, 43. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 AVoRKS, 24, 41, 332, 335, 553. 
 
 Beggar's Opeua, The, 136. 
 
 Bentley, Richard, 246, 337, 381, 
 441, 445, 440; his edition of 
 Milton, 423-430; Mallet's at- 
 tack on, 430-432, 435, 436, 443 ; 
 Pope's attacks on, 409-411, 473. 
 
 5 
 
 Bentley, Richard, Jr., 410. 
 
 BETEEM, 171. 
 
 Betterton, Thomas, 113. 
 
 BiuTii of Merlin, The, a play, 
 115. 
 
 Bishop, Ilawley, 334, 490, 
 
 Bla( KMOUE, Sir Richard, 153,204, 
 205, 207, 229, 270, 295. 
 
 BoiiE.AiiA, a maritime country. 
 510. 
 
 BoLiNGBROKE, Ilcnry St. John, 
 viscount, 303, 435, 430, 437, 
 482. 
 
 Booth, Barton, 126, 441. 
 
 BoswELL, James, 546, 504. 
 
 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,' 408 ; 
 ' Essay upon Satire,' 468. 
 
 BuDGELL, Eustnce, 201, 262, 296, 
 483; starts the 'Bee,' 396; at- 
 tacks Pope, 399-402. 
 
 Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl 
 of, 415. 
 
 Burnet, Sir Thomas, 255, 269. 
 
 Byron, Lord, 141. 
 
 Cesar's Fall, a play, 20. 
 Cajibridge, Ricliard Owen, his 
 'Scribleriad,' 421. 
 
 71
 
 INDEX 
 
 Cambridge Shakespeare, The, 
 
 5G2. 
 Capell, Edward, 80, 112, 458, 
 
 606; attacks Theobald 113, 483, 
 
 484, 541, 549, 562. 
 Carruthers, Kobert, 385. 
 Caryll, John, 399, 474. 
 Caxton, William, 213, 347, 433. 
 CiiANDOS, James Brydges, Duke 
 
 of, 415. 
 Chapman, George, 27, 32, 34, 35, 38. 
 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 347, 504, 507. 
 Chesterfield, Philip Dormer 
 
 Stanhope, Earl of, 4G6. 
 Chettle, Henry, 9, 10, 20, 21, 27. 
 Cirrer, Colley, 153, 201, 276, 296, 
 
 389, 408, 441; Pope's hostility 
 
 to, 119, 226, 228, 229, 4GG. 
 Cirrer, Theophilus, 260, 290, 441. 
 Cicero, 508. 
 
 Cleland, William, 244, 305, 368. 
 Collier, John Payne, 106, 1G7. 
 Collins, Anthony, 270. 
 Collins, Chnrton, 135, 563. 
 Concanen, Matthew, 178 n., 179, 
 
 269, 276, 305, 323, 375, 377 ; his 
 
 friendship with Warbnrton, 242, 
 
 351, 352; Pope's hostility to, 
 
 205-268; his ' Speculatist,' 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 
 
 Ilesiod, 288, 289, 336 n. 
 CovENT Garden Theater, 17, 
 
 179. 
 Cowley, Abraham, 124, 125. 
 Coxeter, Thomas, 495. 
 Cromwell, Chronicle History of 
 
 Thomas, Lord, a play, 70, 116. 
 CiiRLiAD, The, 376. 
 Corel, Edmund, 234, 301, 355, 
 
 376, 880, 474, 477. 
 
 57 
 
 Cynthio, 555. 
 Cythereia, 300. 
 
 Davenant, Sir WiUiam, 42, 418. 
 
 Day, John, 20, 27. 
 
 Defoe, Daniel, 207, 260, 296. 
 
 Defoe, Norton, 201. 
 
 Dekker, Tliomas, 9, 20, 21, 27, 39. 
 
 Dklany, Patrick, 305. 
 
 Delap, John, 480. 
 
 Delius, Nikolaus, 106. 
 
 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. 
 
 Dor, 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. 
 
 Dourle Falsehood, or tlie 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. 
 
 Ducjv, Stephen, 153. 
 
 DucKETT, George, 207, 255. 
 
 DuLwiCH College, 11. 
 
 DuNTON, John, 233. 
 
 Dyce, Alexander, 167. 
 
 Edward III, play, 51. 
 element, 333.
 
 INDEX 
 
 English Traveller, Heywood's, 
 
 8, 28, 38, r,9. 
 Epistle to the Little Satyrist 
 
 OF Twickenham, An, 405. 
 Essay on the Art of a Poet's 
 
 Sinking in Reputation, 220. 
 EusDEN, Laurence, 152, 29L ^!^'5, 
 
 388, 390. 
 
 Fair Constance of Rome, a play, 
 20. 
 
 Fair Em, a play, 115. 
 
 Fair Maid of the West, IIo}'- 
 wood's, 38. 
 
 Farmer, Richard, 151, 500, 549, 
 5C)0. 
 
 Female Dunciad, Tlie, 281. 
 
 Fenton, Elijah, 82, 99 n., 193, 190, 
 208, 209, 221, 27t), 305, 382. 
 
 Feukex and roiiUEX, a phiy, 27. 
 
 Fielding, Henry, 2G4, 272, 392, 
 405 M., 441 ; classed witli iliiiu'cs 
 by Swift, 283; liis jicriodical 
 Essays, 5, 6. 
 
 FiLMER, Edward, Ids 'Unnatural 
 Brother,' 143. 
 
 Fletcher, John, 43, 552 ; his ra- 
 pidity of conij)osition, 24. 
 
 Fog's Wkekly Journal, 181. 
 
 FoLKES, Martin, 341, 441. 
 
 Ford, John, 27, 38. 
 
 Gamelyn, The Tale of, 504. 
 
 Oarrick, David, 262. 
 
 Gay, John, 99 »., 202, 270, 417 ; liis 
 ' Three Hours after Marrlaj^o,' 
 324. 
 
 germens, 91, 333. 
 
 Gesner, Conrad, 178. 
 
 GiFFORD, WilMani, 151, 218. 
 
 GiLDON, Charles, 73, 113, 271, 494, 
 510. 
 
 Gray, Thomas, 83. 
 
 Greene, Robert, 27, 44; his in- 
 difference to accuracy, 510. 
 
 Griffin, Benjamin, 417. 
 
 GuovE, The, a Miscellany, 134. 
 
 Gnrir.-STREET Journal, Tlie, 2G7, 
 342, 383, 411, 412, 414, 41(3, 420. 
 425, 444, 447, 450, 45G; its origin 
 and history, 381-407. 
 
 Guthrie, Wilham, 4UG. 
 
 Halifax, Charles Montagu, earl 
 
 of, 183, 184. 
 Handel, George Frederick, 482. 
 Hanmek, Sir Thomas, 365, 54G ; 
 
 his edition of Shakespeare, 98, 
 
 111, 245, 518, 538, 558. 
 Harris, James, 193. 
 IIarsnett, Samuel, 504. 
 IIarte, Walter, 271, 387. 
 hath, plural, 61. 
 Hatuway, Kicliard, 9, 10, 20, 27. 
 IIaughton, William, 27. 
 IIayley, William, 481. 
 Haywood, Mrs. Eliza, 243,275,287. 
 II EARN E, Thomas, 263, 296. 
 IlELiODOrars, his ^TJiJiin/iirii, 505. 
 Hemixg, John, and Henry Condell, 
 
 42, 48, 50, 55, 162. 
 Henley, Jolm, 263. 
 Henryson, Robert, 504. 
 Henslowe, I'liilip, account of, 
 
 12-14; his 'Diary,' 9, 10, 11, 14, 
 
 15, 16, 18, '20, 27, 30. 
 Heywood, Tiiomas, 28, 29, 30, 31, 
 
 35, 36, 38, 39, 44 ; bis fertility of 
 
 production, 8, 21. 
 Hill, Aaron, 207, 276, 296, 37'2, 
 
 470, 471; conducts the ' Promp- 
 
 ttirl391^ 405,^ 
 Histriomastix, Prynne's, 69. 
 HoADLEY, Benjamin, 356. 
 Hogarth, William, 416, 441. 
 Horace, 466. 
 
 HuRLOTiiRUMBO, Samucl John- 
 son's, 136. 
 Hyp-Doctor, TIenlcy's, 393. 
 Horneck, Pliilip, 209. 
 
 Jacobs, Giles, 323; liis 'Poetical 
 
 Register,' 128 n., 324. 
 Jeroximo, a play, 502. 
 
 hi
 
 INDEX 
 
 Johnson, Charles, 2G4, 274 ; his 
 ' Sultaness,' 324. 
 
 Johnson, Samuel, author of Ilurlo- 
 thrunibo,' 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 Sliakespcare, 518, 538, 
 543, 558 ; his Machetli, 54(5, 547; 
 his proposals for editing Shake- 
 speare, 547. 
 
 Johnson and Steevkn's Shake- 
 SPEAUE, edition of 1773, 03, 500, 
 543, 559; edition of 1778, 500, 
 543, 551 ; edition of 1785, 559. 
 
 JoNsoN, Ben, 9, 20, 22, 23, 24, 3;], 
 40,41.42,44,83, 118,551. 
 
 JouTiN, John, 418. 
 
 King John, Tiie Troublesome 
 
 Reign of, a play, 105. 
 Kynaston, The Rev. Mr., 217. 
 
 Langtoft, Peter of, his ' Clironi- 
 
 cle,' 448. 
 LocuiNE, 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, 44G-449, 457. 
 Malone, Edmund, 151, 173, 500, 
 
 520, 539, 559; his edition of 
 
 Shakespeare, 106, 172. 
 Maukland, John, 301. 
 Marlowe, Christopher, 15, 27, 
 
 503, 506. 
 Marston, John, 41, 653. 
 Martial, 32. 
 
 5 
 
 Martyn, John, 392-394. 
 
 Mason, William, 480. 
 
 Massinger, Philip, 27, 38, 43, 
 149, 151, 218, 553. 
 
 Mead, Richard, 441. 
 
 Memoirs of Grub-stueet, 393. 
 
 ]\Ieri:s, Francis, his Palladis 
 Tiuiiia, 9, 40, 50. 
 
 Mestayer, Henry, 139, 144, 145. 
 
 Middletojj, TiioML-is, 16, 21, 27. 
 
 Midland Dialect, The, (JO. 
 
 Miller, James, 407; his 'Harle- 
 quin Horace,' 153, 271, 308, 413. 
 
 Milton, Jolm, 02, 09, 4(^7, 543; 
 Bentley's edilion of iiis ' Paradise 
 Lost,' 424-429, 431, 432. 
 
 Miscellaneous Obheuvations 
 uroN Authors, Ancient aind 
 Modern, 418. 
 
 Miscellany' on Taste, A, 416. 
 
 Mist, Natiianael, 180. 
 
 Mist's Journal, 81, 120/*., 1'28 »., 
 179, 210, 214, 220-224, 378, 379, 
 381, 390; account of, 180-182; 
 Tiieobald's connection witli, 182, 
 214, 300, 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, 290, 305, 323, 
 330 «., 307, 372, 377, 379, 388, 
 409. 
 
 Mokley, 378. 
 
 MuNDAY, Anthony, 20, 21. 
 
 neif, 90. 
 
 Newspaper, The, 0, 7, 17. 
 
 NoisBES, Thomas, 27. 
 
 Northern Dialect, The, 00, 06, 
 
 90. 
 Novel, Tlie, 6, 7, 17, 20, 37. 
 
 Oldcastle, Sir .Jolin, a play, 70, 
 
 110. 
 Oldmixon, John, 208, 243, 274. 
 
 7-1
 
 INDEX 
 
 Orrery, Cliarles Boyle, fourth e.arl 
 
 of, 418, 423. 
 Orrery, Jolin Boylo, fifth earl of, 
 
 418. 
 Otwat, Thomas, 466. 
 Oxford, Edward Ilarley, 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 -//(, 
 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, 340, 352, 353, 363, 364, 
 365, 369, 389, 472; Dunciad 
 of 1728, 165, 109, 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 Rowc, 101, 
 196, 529 ; labor u])on the text, 
 100-102 ; labor upon the meter, 
 108-111 ; his preface, 118; 
 rejection of spurious plays, 
 113, 116; second eilition of 
 Shakespeare, 315-321 ; obli- 
 
 gations to Theobald, 315-318, 
 
 531. 
 Epistle to Dr. Akbuthnot, 
 
 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. 
 IMoRAL 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. 
 Thanslation of the Odyssey, 
 
 192, 199, 208, 221, 329. 
 Travesty of the first psalm, 
 
 204, 354, 358. 
 WoKMS, poem of The, 205. 
 PopiAD, The, 281. 
 Popple, William, 269, 397. 
 Prynne, William, 69. 
 Puritan, The, a play, 70. 
 
 QuiN, James, 441. 
 
 Ralph, James, 263, 273, 274, 377 ; 
 
 his ' Sawney,' 282, 286. 
 Rankin, William, 27. 
 reechy, 91, 333. 
 Rich, Christopher, 139. 
 Rich, John, 139, 140, 143, 146,378. 
 Richardson, Jonathan, 435. 
 Richardson, Samuel, 441. 
 Roberts, John, 165 n. 
 Rockingham, Lewis Watson, first 
 
 earl of, 122. 
 RooME, Edward, 255, 269, 377, 378. 
 
 575
 
 INDEX 
 
 RoscoE, William, 885. 
 
 RowE, Nicholas, 94, 107, 118, 120, 
 157, 178,486, 4U4, 524; liis edi- 
 tion of Sliakespearc, 72, 73-70, 
 78, 81, lOG, 171, 211, 484, 497, 
 509, 515, 518 ; liis text followed 
 by Pope, 88, 101, 11)6, 454, 455, 
 529. 
 
 Rowley, William, 105. 
 
 RuFFiiEAD, Owen, o84. 
 
 RossEL, editor of ' Grub-street 
 Journal,' 393, 305-398. 405-408. 
 
 RussKLi,, Dr. Richard, supposeil 
 editor of ' Grub-street Journal,' 
 394. 
 
 Sagittart, The, 212. 
 
 Savage, Richard, 242, 200, 273, 
 
 276, 284, 365, 389; account of, 
 
 370-374; liis relations with Rope, 
 
 374-378 ; his ' Bastard,' 373 ; 
 
 Ills ' Progress of a Divine,' 377 ; 
 
 liis play of ' Sir Thomas Over- 
 
 bnry,' 371. 
 Saviola, Vincentio, 504. 
 Saxo Gkammatk'Us, 320, 505. 
 ScuLEGEL, August Williclin von, 
 
 116. 
 Second person singular in -.v, 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 Luce It, 51, 96 n., 156, 
 
 496, 504, 506. 
 Comedy of Ekkors, 487, 505. 
 CoRiOLANUs, 51, 101, 106, 158, 
 
 211, 356, 359, 360. 
 Cymheline, 64, 360, 301, 509. 
 Hamlet, 47, 55, 57-59, 71, 74, 
 
 76, 91, 92, 102, 156, 158, 170, 
 171, 174, 185, 320, 360, 453, 
 
 570 
 
 504, 505, 509, 519, 520, 531, 
 
 558. 
 Julius Caesar, 51. 
 Kjng Henry IV, Tart I, 47, 89. 
 King Henry IV, Part II, 90, 
 
 503, 512. 
 King Henry V, 47, 98, 103, 161- 
 
 167, 300, 357, 3(50, 362. 
 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. 
 King Henry VIII, 96 w., 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. 
 Macisetii, 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 n., 169, 320, 515, 516. 
 MiDSUMBiER 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. 
 Kate of Luckece, 185. 
 Romeo and Juliet, 36, 47, 55, 
 
 74, 103, 550. 
 Taming of the Shrew, 75, 104, 
 
 158, 502, 506. 
 Tkmpest, 51, 89, 94, 182, 210, 
 
 452, 455. 
 Timon of Athens, 53, 75, 210, 
 
 357, 501.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Titus Andronicus, .T>, 487. 
 
 TuoiLus AND Ckessida, 27, '29, 
 
 m, 75, 212, 504. 
 Twelfth Night, 51, 91, 15G, 3.34, 
 
 504, 505, 642. 
 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. 
 folioof 1085, 71. 
 Poems, edition of 1040, 72, 506. 
 Spelling Sliakespear, 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 
 Ilowe, Pope, Theobald, llan- 
 mer, AVarburton, Johnson, 
 Johnson and Stcevens, Ma- 
 lone, Steevens. 
 Shelton, Tliomas, 150. 
 Sloane, Sir Hans, 441. 
 Smedley, Jonathan, 282. 
 SoLiMAN AND Perseda, a pla}', 503. 
 Southern Dialect, The, 60. 
 Spanish Tragedy, The, a play, 
 
 502. 
 Spelman, Sir Henry, his ' Glos- 
 sary,' 90. 
 Spence, Joseph, 192-194, 407. 
 Spenser, Edmund, 61. 
 Staunton, Howard, 167. 
 Steele, Sir Richard, 5, 128, 261. 
 Steevens, George, 106, 173, 501, 
 506, 545, 550-553; his edition of 
 Shakespeare, 552, 559. 
 
 37 577 
 
 Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of, 
 504. 
 
 Swift, Jonathan, 5, 79, 03, 202, 
 204, 230, 231, 233, 255, 265, 266, 
 282, 283, 365, 366, 418, 477. 
 
 Taming of a Shrew, The, a play, 
 
 104, 111. 
 Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 462. 
 Thackeray, AVilliani Makepeace, 
 
 481. 
 Theobald, Lewis, his 
 
 Cave of Poverty, 183-186. 
 
 Censor, 128, 186, 188. 
 
 Death of Hanniiial, 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. 
 
 OuESTEs, 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. 
 
 Shakespeare Restored, 136, 
 154, 155-175, 170, 177, 187, 
 191, 194-197, 200-202, 290, 
 299, 304, 306, 809, 310, 325, 
 329, 378, 430, 498, 531. 
 edition of Shakespeare's plays, 
 840-345, 429, 438-443, 458, 
 483, 489 ; date of publica-
 
 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- 
 liumous Works, 378, 413, 
 475. 
 
 proposed translation of J5schy- 
 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 Musajus and Theo- 
 critus, 135. 
 
 his emendation of approof for 
 proof, 520; of arrnij for cat 
 away, 333 ; of a babbled for 
 a table, 161-168 ; of bawds for 
 bo7ids, 158 ; of beatijied 
 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 ; 
 oi gilded for guided, 169, 320; 
 of invoition. Imitaii for in- 
 vention imiiary, 335 ; of knot 
 for (pint, 518 ; of lackey- 
 ing for lacking, 158; oflatten 
 for Latin, 510 ; of let e'en 
 for beteen, 172 ; of ne'er lust- 
 wearied for near lust-wearied. 
 
 158 ; of osprey for asprey, 
 178 ; of page for rage, 158 ; 
 of prate for pray, 158 ; of 
 scotch for scorch, 158, 169; 
 of smithy for stithy, 620 ; of 
 senior-junior iov signior Junios , 
 334; of thill-horse for fill- 
 horse, 520 ; of third-borough 
 for headborough, 168. 
 his explanation of excrements, 
 631 ; of intermission, 220 ; of 
 Sagittary, 212; of unaneled, 
 658. 
 his asserted poverty, 129, 653. 
 his assumed lack of taste, 484- 
 
 488. 
 catalogue of his library, 562- 
 
 555. 
 learning, 346, 501-507, 515, 
 565-557. 
 Third person present singular in 
 
 -s and in -th. 
 Thompson, Rev. William, 480. 
 TiCKELL, Thomas, 276, 300. 
 TiECK, Ludwig, 114. 
 TiNDAL. Matthew, 270, 400. 
 T(tLAND, John, 270. 
 Tottel's Miscellany, 504. 
 TouRNEUK, Cyril, 27. 
 Turner, William, 178. 
 Two Noble Kinsmen, The, a 
 
 play, 51. 
 Universal Spectator, The, 
 348 n. 
 
 Upton, John, 441. 
 
 Urrt, 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. 
 Warhurton, John, ' Somerset 
 
 Herald,' 27, 149. 
 
 678
 
 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 ; 
 Ins 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 Sliake- 
 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. 
 
 WE15STER, John, 17, 21, 23, 32, 
 
 142. 
 Weekly Oracle or Universal 
 
 Library, The, 485. 
 Welsteu, 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. 
 Wyciierley, William, 378, 413, 
 
 475. 
 Wynkin de Worde, 213, 347. 
 
 Yorkshire Tragedy, A, 70, 116, 
 
 378. 
 Young, Edward, 270, 366, 441. 
 
 579

 
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