SECTION I. INTRODUCTORY.

WHAT a well-bred age do we live in? Time was, when writers might boldly call in question the abilities of each other, without incurring the cen­sure of malignity, or even sometimes forfeiting their title to distinguished urbanity; when the meanest in­dividual in the Republick of Letters had a right to bring the charge of ignorance or inattention against the proudest champion that ever brandished goose-quill; when he might cite the accused to appear at the bar of the publick, and give testimony in plain terms against him without ceremony or equivocation. Time was, I say, when this impartial tribunal also, attentive only to the matter of fact and the evidence laid before it, [Page 2] passed sentence on the convicted without respect of per­sons, honouring the prosecutor with its thanks and protection, as a friend to justice and the interests of literature.

How different is the case at present! when the sanc­tion of a literary reputation, however obtained, is simi­lar to a certain political privilege, however acquired; though it be notorious that ignorance and partiality operate as powerfully in the one case, as bribery and corruption are sometimes supposed to do in the other. But when the candidates are once chaired, and their opponents have not influence enough to get them ex­pelled, it is theirs to sit in judgment on their fellow subjects, and give laws to the world of letters.

It is well, however, for the progress of Science, and the independency of Wit, that the Session of the Lite­rary Junto is not so firmly established as that of the political. They are both provided, indeed, with their ushers and serjeants respectively; but, however tre­mendous may be the magisterial authority of the one, nothing can be more ridiculous than the critical mock-majesty of the other.

The author of the Review of Dr. Johnson's Shake­speare hath, it seems, been committed to the custody of these literary mirmidons, and formally proceeded against for a breach of privilege. The Doctor, we are told, was above being called to account by any private individual whatever; it being the highest indignity to the majority even to suspect the inability of a writer, whom they had been pleased to vote infallible.

[Page 3]As a friend to the Reviewer, therefore, I take up the pen to defend his cause, and assert the right of every citizen in the Republick of Letters, to think and write freely. To this I am particularly incited also, from a due sense that such freedom is become abso­lutely necessary to support the present interests of lite­rature; which are daily drooping under the dead weights of indolence, partiality, and prepossession.

I am not insensible that these obstacles to the pro­gress of science, and the advancement of letters, are commonly called by other names. I well know that, in this age of civility and false refinement, mere COURTESY is termed candour, CEREMONY is called po­liteness, QUAINTNESS elegance, PEDANTRY erudition, and DULLNESS decency and decorum. On the other hand, SINCERITY is termed insult, CENSURE is called cruelty, and WIT and HUMOUR petulance and ill-man­ners. In the mean time a zeal for truth is looked upon as a kind of canine madness; and a heart-felt ve­neration for true genius and learning is despised as a literary phrenzy. Thus are we degenerated from our forefathers; from the wits and philosophers of those ages which produced a Shakespeare, a Bacon, a Dry­den, and a Milton; whom instead of imitating, we exert all our little abilities to depreciate, and level with the diminutive standard of the present times. A late noble writer observes, respecting our moral and political character, that we are now-a-days so far from having the virtues of great men, that we have not even their vices; every thing, says he, is little, mean, and pitiful among us. This might with greater justice be said of our [Page 4] literary character; our taste for works of real genius, true science, and solid erudition, being almost dwindled into nothing. In the mean time we see the petty pre­tenders to wit and learning industriously forming them­selves into parties for the support of each other, be­cause they find themselves unable to stand alone. Im­becillity naturally tends to render people complacent and civil; while the cunning, usually attendant on ig­norance, artfully teaches them to make a merit of their weakness, and to impute even their pusillanimity to candour and benevolence.

It is no wonder that a writer, who hath the forti­tude alone to attack one of the greatest of these par­tial and illiberal combinations, should create himself a number of enemies; nor is it indeed a wonder that the impartial publick should, for a while, be misled by the self interested clamours, which so numerous a body of partisans may raise against him. It is boldly pre­sumed, however, that if the publick should fully and coolly enquire into the real state of the case, the motives for such attack, and the merits and demerits of the parties assailed and defended, they will not only acquit the Reviewer of the false charges of illiberality and malignity brought against him; but will be ready to acknowledge that the chastisement Dr. Johnson hath received at his hands, is no less defensible with regard to its severity, than it is justifiable in respect to its cause.

SECT. II.

THERE is nothing which, at first sight, gives us greater offence or disgust, than to see those persons or characters, for whom we have been used to enter­tain a certain degree of respect, treated with familiarity or contempt. Nor is it at all necessary to this end, that such treatment should on their part be merited. It is enough that we are ignorant of their demerits; of which it is afterwards very difficult to convince us, even by the strongest testimony. We are by no means easily reconciled to such an instance of our want of sagacity, as that of having long entertained a favourable opinion, much less a kind of reverence, for an object unworthy of it. We are apt to hesitate, therefore, at the most fla­grant proofs of our mistake, and even to take offence at any supposed indignity offered to such characters, as if it in some measure affected ourselves.

This hath been remarkably the case in the present af­fair of Mr. K's Review of Dr. Johnson's Shakespeare; even those, who could not fail of being convinced of the justice of the Reviewer's remarks, finding in them­selves something repugnant to the ludicrous and sar­castical manner in which Mr. K. had thought proper to reprehend this editor. Admitting for the present, how­ever, that the cause of such reprehension was just, they [Page 6] cannot fail, on reflection, to impute that repugnance to their prepossession in favour of Dr. J. and their igno­rance of the Reviewer's having still farther motives for his severity, than appeared on the face of his pamphlet.

That none of these motives were personal, the Re­viewer hath repeatedly and publickly declared. What they were, may be gathered from this and the follow­ing sections.

The Reviewer, it seems, had been some years abroad, when he first heard of the publication of Dr. Johnson's Dictionary; a work of which he had formed the highest expectations from the supposed abilities and great reputation of its author. At the same time, being apprehensive that his own application to the use of foreign languages might, in some measure, corrupt that of his native tongue, he procured Dr. J's appa­rently elaborate performance, in order to correct both his memory and judgment, as either might occa­sionally fail him. Having thus, during an interval of several years, had more frequent occasions to consult an English dictionary, than possibly would have hap­pened to him in any other situation, he could not fail of being greatly surprized and disappointed at the many palpable and gross mistakes which had escaped this ce­lebrated lexicographer. He was not so unreasonable to expect, indeed, that, in a work of such extent, a num­ber of trivial, and perhaps some important errors, should not escape the most attentive and industrious compiler. He could neither expect, however, nor overlook such an amazing number of blunders and inconsistencies in etymology, orthoepy, idiom and grammatical con­struction, [Page 7] as were to be found in a work, which was boasted of as a capital undertaking, and recommended to foreigners as a standard of the English lan­guage.

He would have been careless of the honour, and want­ing to the literature of his country ^*, had he not every where taken a proper occasion, therefore, to speak of the defects and imperfections of Dr. Johnson's Dictionary. At the same time, that he might not be thought to de­preciate the labours of another, without sufficient cause, he amused himself occasionally with forming a table of errata to that performance, intending some time or other to offer it to the proprietors; and, in case of their refusal to accept it, to lay it before the publick.

The Reviewer's list of errors was pretty copious when he returned to England; since when, having applied more closely to literary matters, he hath increased it almost tenfold, and that by no means to the honour of Dr. Johnson's boasted erudition and profound know­ledge of the English tongue.

This detection of the Lexicographer induced the Re­viewer to make a closer examination, than he had be­fore done, into the compositions of the writer; in which were found the same traces of inattention to the idiom of our tongue, and of his imperfect acquaintance with other modern languages. In the mean time, he [Page 8] was found to be eternally aiming at the introduction of Latinisms, and other vicious modes of expression, by way of enriching our tongue; but thereby corrupting it, as he himself says of Shakespeare, ‘by almost every mode of depravation.’

In his productions of imagination, his invention ap­peared weak and languid. It exerted itself, indeed, now and then with tolerable success in a dream or vi­sion; but it was hardly ever wide awake, without seem­ing fatigued with its efforts toward vigility, and invo­luntarily dropping into a doze again. As to his works of knowledge and judgment, there appeared hardly any trace of the author's acquaintance with the sciences in any of his writings; nay, even his pre­tended profundity in morals, and the knowledge of mankind, seemed to the Reviewer nothing more than a quaint and affected exhibition of the trite observa­tions and hackney'd reflections of others.

His greatest merit appeared to consist in the labour thrown away on the tawdry glare of description, and the glossy, but fading, polish of stile. Instead of pro­ducing great and noble images, he seldom reached far­ther than high-sounding words. Instead of new and really elegant turns of thought, his novelty and refine­ment generally ended in some florid allusion, quaint antithesis, or fantastical preciseness of expression. His verse seemed heavy, cold and spiritless; and his prose alternately pompous and puerile.

A farther acquaintance with Dr. Johnson's literary character, acquired even among and from his own [Page 9] friends, had by no means contributed to remove Mr. K's unfavourable opinion of this writer, when his long-expected edition of Shakespeare made its appearance.

Having been already so egregiously disappointed as to the philological abilities of Dr. J. the Reviewer's expectations were by no means so sanguine as before. His enthusiastic veneration for Shakespeare, however, could not be restrained within the bounds of silence, on finding this editor had taken every opportunity to depre­ciate the merit of that incomparable bard; on whom Dr. J. hath, in repeated instances, (as is shewn in Mr. K's Review) endeavoured to fix the charge of incapacity, folly, vulgarity, immorality and impiety.

To aggravate all this, Dr. J. falls with equal vio­lence on the only commentator on Shakespeare, that, by his own confession, hath acquitted himself with re­putation; charging him with weakness, ignorance, mean­ness, faithlessness, petulance and ostentation.

Those who complain of Mr. K's severity, and charge him with scurrility, ill-manners and abuse, would do well to look through his work, and see if they can find any passage wherein he hath called Dr. J. mean, faithless, immoral or impious.

‘But Shakespeare and Theobald are dead, and Dr. Johnson is alive; the former cannot suffer by any thing that is said of them, whereas the latter may be essen­tially hurt by an attack on his reputation.’ This may be urged, indeed, by those who conceive Mr. K's excessive zeal for the honour of the dead is less excu­sable than Dr. J's excess of tenderness for the reputa­tion of the living. It is very certain that, as they [Page 10] arise from different motives, they must necessarily inter­fere with, or counteract each other. It is difficult, indeed, to say which savours most of envy and malig­nity ^*. We may envy the reputation both of the living and the dead; but can hate only the living. Even hate, however, may arise from laudable principles, as honest men detest knaves, and lovers of truth abhor false­hood: but envy, whether directed to the living or dead, is a mean and odious passion. At the same time, it must be universally allowed more brave and honour­able, though it may be less prudential, to attack the reputation of the living than the dead. Now fortitude hath ever been esteemed the general concomitant of ingenuousness and candour, which never harbour in envious minds.

So far Mr. K. hath evidently the advantage over Dr. J. Besides, the friends of the latter, while they charge the former with envy at Dr. J's abilities and re­putation, accuse him at the same time with insufferable self-sufficiency and vanity. But if the contempt with which he hath treated Dr. J. proceed really from his vanity and self-sufficiency, there is the less room to think him subject to the motives of envy; for we ne­ver can envy those we truly despise. The truth, I imagine, is, that Mr. K. neither does the one nor the other by Dr. J. notwithstanding he hath sufficiently shewn a fixed detestation of that editor's literary mis­conduct. This detestation, as I observed before, may nevertheless be very just and laudable; in which case [Page 11] its effects cannot, with any propriety, be imputed to malignity.

I should now proceed to enquire how far Dr. John­son may be defended from the suspicion of envy, as the motive for his abuse of Theobald and Shakes­peare.

As it behoves others, however, to exculpate the Doctor, I shall only propose a few questions to those of his friends, who may chuse to answer them; such answers, in my opinion, tending effectually either to clear or convict him of acting from invidious motives.

SECT. III.

IT hath been said, with regard to Dr. W-rb-r-t-n, that he abundantly deserved the scurrility and abuse, which it is pretended Mr. K. hath thrown upon him; ‘because he was the first author who introduced such soul language into controversy, which he never failed to bestow on all his opponents when he dared. But with Dr. Johnson the case is otherwise; he never gave any public offence, nor even engaged in any controversy.’

Those who affirm all this, appear to know but very little of Dr. Johnson; nay, even to forget the fact for which he is arraigned. Did he give no public offence in the circumstances attending his edition of Shakes­peare? [Page 12] Did he not engage in a controversy with almost all his commentators; bestowing the worst of foul language on his opponents when he dared; that is, on those who were dead?

The following queries, however, take in a farther retrospect of Dr. J's literary conduct; the general te­nour of which will be found to be tinctured with an in­vidious disposition, that he was fond of indulging in actions, which his timidity was too great to permit him openly to avow.

• 1. Who encouraged LAUDER in his infamous attempt to charge the author of Paradise Lost with pla­giarism from Massenius and others; clapping him on the back while he hopped about the town, exclaiming against that axacrable vellain John Milton?
• 2. Who was the manager or editor of the Gentle­man's Magazine at that time, and kept out the papers written against Lauder for several months together; for which he afterwards apologized, when the imposition became flagrant, and the ac­cuser himself, with imparallel'd effrontery, con­fessed the forgery?
• 3. Who recommended such a modest gentleman to the lords Chesterfield and Granville, who honoured him with their protection, and rewarded him with an annuity, till even Dr. J's interest could not prevent his being ignominiously turned out of doors?
• [Page 13]4. Who actually wrote Lauder's pamphlet against Milton?
• 5. What ingenuous motive could possibly induce Dr. J. to join in such an invidious attempt, to depreciate the merit of one of the greatest poets England had to boast?
• 6. Was it not because Milton was, in his private character, a man of republican principles, and an enemy to ecclesiastical tyranny and arbitrary power?
• 7. What motive could induce Dr. J. to endeavour, in his Rambler, to lessen the poetical reputation of the late Mr. Pope, by laboured criticisms on a few of the most admired passages in his writings, and on those only?
• 8. Who wrote the severe and carping criticisms on the epitaphs of the same author; first published in the Visitor, and afterwards retailed in the Ma­gazines?
• 9. Who advised and assisted the celebrated and in­genious Mrs. Lenox to an attack on the greatest poet the world ever produced, and that in the most essential part of his poetical character, in her Shakespeare illustrated?
• 10. Who wrote Dr. J's New Dictionary of the Eng­lish language?
• 11. Whether Dr. J. ever read the Dictionary he is supposed to have written?
• 12. Whether the capital improvement, intended by that Dictionary, was not the collection of the [Page 14] authorities for, and the illustrations of, the use of English words?
• 13. Whether these authorities and illustrations do not in many hundred places contradict the meaning of the words, as given by the lexicographer?
• 14. Whether the writer hath not almost always mis­taken the very meaning of words when he has departed from former dictionaries?
• 15. Whether he hath not, in a considerable number of instances, given the words without any mean­ing at all?
• 16. Who wrote the proposals for publishing the last edition of Shakespeare, and who executed the work, and how?
• 17. Whether indolence be an excuse for not doing what a man hath publickly undertaken, and is well paid for?
• 18. Whether it be not an insult to the common sense and common honesty of mankind, to pretend that the private virtue, even of the most ingenious and learned individual upon earth, should exempt him from correction, when he affects to be him­self exempted from the faithful discharge of the common duties of his profession or calling?
• 19. Whether imbecility and indolence be really good-nature and benevolence; and whether, in an age of less ceremony and greater sincerity, the ma­gisterial supineness, affected by Dr. J. would not be frankly called pride and idleness?
• [Page 15]20. Whether, if the above questions cannot be an­swered, to the honour of Dr. J. what right either he or his friends have to complain of the severity of the chastisement bestowed on him ^*?

SECT. IV.

DR. Johnson's friends will doubtless object, that it is much easier to ask questions than to answer them, and that injurious inuendoes may be safely conveyed in the way of query, even though they should be ground­less.

I should not have presumed to ask those questions, however, had not Mr. K. furnished me with authen­ticated materials for making a satisfactory reply to every single article, if the Doctor, or his friends, should at any time require it. It was thought pro­per, in the mean time, to state the merits of Dr. J's literary character rather in a problematical than a [Page 17] peremptory manner, that his partizans might solve any difficulties that might arise, in the best manner they are able. But if they cannot obviate such difficulties, and that very soon, it is not to be doubted that the good sense ahd impartiality of the publick will pre­vail over its former prepossessions, and determine for me that Dr. J. hath met with no worse treatment than he deserves.

How far Mr. K. is defensible in having inflicted it, is another matter of consideratioh. If the Reviewer, in the height of his zeal for the honour of Shakespeare, hath given too great a loose to his passions, and hath expressed himself unbecoming a scholar and a gentle­man, he hath in so doing injured his own reputation more than he hath done that of Dr. Johnson. Nor is it any justification of Mr. K's scurrility to say it is a de­gree less scurrilous than that of the Doctors J—n or W—n.

If their fault, however, be no justification of his, it is some excuse for the latter that it appears to be the natural effect of a resentment excited by nobler and less interested motives.

To attack a man, in the warmth of resentment, however rudely, who is alive and able to defend him­self, is certainly less exceptionable, in point of honour and spirit at least, than a premeditated design, con­ceived and executed in cold blood, to strip the dead of those honours which successive ages had bestowed on their memory.

[Page 18]It is to be observed also, that it is not very easy for men of warm passions, when affected with their sub­ject, to express their resentment in terms always con­sistent with the common forms of politeness. Expe­rience sufficiently evinces this, as we may be convinced by turning to almost any polemic writings, even on those subjects which in a peculiar manner require the appearance at least of the highest degree of temper and benevolence.

There is one cireumstance, indeed, in which the Re­viewer seems justly to have incurred the censure of impoliteness and want of urbanity. This is the re­flection he hath made on a certain natural infirmity of Dr. J. In answer to this charge, however, it is to be observed, that Mr. K. being personally a stranger to the Doctor, and having formed the ideas of his character purely on the representations of the Doctor's friends, he really mistook that infirmity for an affected habit; as those very friends, in repeating Dr. J's bons mots, constantly made use of the same habit or infir­mity to heighten the joke; and therefore may be as justly said to have ridiculed it themselves, as it is pre­tended Mr. K. has done. Nay, the Doctor's acquaintance are still more inexcusable, as they must be supposed to have known the real state of the case, and ought not to have given occasion for such a mistake, in a writer who is master of sufficient acrimony of stile, without descending to ridicule personal defects, which he never could conceive to be ridiculous.

[Page 19]Having now done with Dr. Johnson's demerits, as well as the merits of Mr. K's Review, with regard to its severity in general, I shall proceed to take some notice of the principal objections that have been made to it by particular writers, especially by the authors of the Critical Review, the editor of the Gentleman's Magazine, the Candid Reviewers, and some few other volunteer criticks.

To begin with the first-mentioned, whose incon­consistent behaviour with regard to Mr. K's writings, even from the very commencement of their Review, may serve to elucidate their pretensions to impartiality, as well as their capacity to sit in judgment on works of genius or learning.

SECT. V.

THE very ingenious and ingenuous authors of the Critical Review, having had frequent occasion to ex­ercise their critical talents on the writings of Mr. K. it may not be amiss to take a retrospect of their former opinion of this writer's genius and abilities; as it may serve, in some measure, to account for that which they affect to entertain at present.

[Page 20]When an imperfect edition of Epistles to Lorenzo first made its appearance in England, these criticks, who had not long before entered on their judicial of­fice, approved of them as spirited, just, poetical, de­scriptive, sensible and true ^*.

In their Review of the second edition, they again confessed ‘they could not help admiring the perspi­cuity, the spirit, the variety of the author's expression and imagery ^†;’ concluding their strictures with say­ing, ‘We will candidly own our admiration of his genius, both as a poet and metaphysician ^§.’

In speaking of the same writer's translations, they express themselves with equal warmth of approbation. —Of that of Rousseau's Eloisa, they say, ‘It is but, ju­stice to add, that we never perused a more spirited, just and elegant translation than that of Eloisa, though one of the most difficult performances in the French language, as it abounds with turns, sentiments and idiomatical expressions, which will hardly bear being translated into a foreign tongue ^‡.’

Of Gesner's Rural Poems, they affirm, ‘that in the harmony of the periods, the conciseness, the elegance and simplicity of stile, the original German is hap­pily imitated by the English version.’

Will it be believed, when I affirm it, that these ju­dicious criticks have, at other times, compared this [Page 21] their admirable genius to Sternhold and Hopkins? or that, in their present strictures, they have charged so sensible, so poetical, so metaphysical a writer, with having published paultry observations, and ridiculous absurdities, in his Review of Dr. Johnson's Shakespeare? Nay, so treacherously has their spleen dealt with their memory, that they have even ventured to pronounce that ‘the Trevoux Dictionary appears to be the ne plus ultra of the French learning’ of the author of the spirited, just and elegant translation of Eloisa!

The reader will very naturally ask, what can possi­bly be the meaning of such strange inconsistency?— I will endeavour to inform him. When the Critical Reviewers were so lavish of their encomiums on Mr. K's writings, they were either ignorant of his private connections, or that he was the author of such writings; and thus may be supposed to have spoken of them to the best of their judgment, without partiality or preju­dice; Mr. K. however, had no sooner shewn himself above being elated with the applause of ignorance, and had corrected them for the fallacy of their hypercriti­cisms ^*, than they became immediately his enemies; and that in a more virulent manner, when he was known to give the preference to a rival Review. Such, it is presumed, are the secret springs by which these tre­mendous judges of literary merit must, in this case, appear to be actuated.

[Page 22]In support of this presumption, we shall here reca­pitulate a few of those criticisms, on which they have ventured to rest the merits of their censure.

Was ever poor devil so caught in the cob-web of his own devices, as this unhappy Critical Reviewer? In the name of common sense what can he mean? For my part, I cannot even guess, so shall leave this saga­cious criticism for the reader to explain as he can: ob­serving only, in justice to Mr. K. that he proposes his alteration only, in case of the supposed necessity of [Page 23] making any alteration at all; which he does by no means affirm. Again,

Here the Critical Reviewer's ipse dixit gives the pre­ference to Dr. Johnson's reading; but the misfortune is, that what these Criticks impute to Mr. K. is the reading of all the modern editions, and not Mr. Ken­rick's ^*; so that the reader hath here a most notable instance of their judgment and impartiality in exhibit­ing the above two criticisms as just specimens of Mr. K's Review.

They proceed, nevertheless, in the same magiste­rial and dogmatical stile to expose their own ignorance still farther in the following passages. His, say they, that is, Mr. K's, "deriving the word feodary from the word foedus, a covenant, is an instance of ignorance hardly to be paralleled. The best English writers say feodum, instead of feudum. A feodary therefore is one who owes suit and ser­vice [Page 24] to his superior. Warburton's inaccuracy in spell­ing the word feuda, which is the Scottish term, instead of feoda, has brought our Critick into a blunder. A feo­dary is no other than a servant, an agent; and the very in­stance brought by this Reviewer from Cymbeline confirms it."

The word, whose derivation is here disputed, is, in some editions of Shakespeare, spelt fedary, without the dipthong. Supposing Mr. K. to be mistaken, however, which I do not believe to be the case, this instance of ignorance, as the critic calls it, is yet to be parallel'd, as he may see, by turning to Bailey's Dic­tionary, corrected and enlarged by Scot; where he will find the sense of the word, and even of the passage quoted from Cymbeline, laid down in the same manner. Feuda may▪ for ought I know, be a Scottish term, and it may in Scotland mean a slave or servant; but neither Shakespeare nor Mr. K. wrote Scotch, but English; of which it is hardly possible for a Scotchman ever to be a compleat master.

The next offence these criticks take at Mr. K's il­lustration is his philosophical explanation of the word warps in the famous song of Blow thou winter's wind. On which occasion they express themselves as follows:

"What a pity it is that this writer's whole display of cri­tical and natural knowledge should be entirely thrown away; since nothing is more certain, than that Shakespeare meant no more by warping, but fixing or freezing the waters. The allusion is drawn from the operation of weavers, who warp, that is, fix their worsted or yarn in their looms before they work it."

[Page 25]But, how is it certain that Shakespeare meant no more but fixing or freezing; when there is no proof that he meant even that: for, unless these criticks can produce the testimony of one English writer, or even one English weaver, to prove that the term warp, as related to the woof, is used as a verb, nobody can give into their notion of the allusion.

The following observation affords a remarkable in­stance of the modesty and learning of these critical gentry:

—"After all Mr. Kenrick's exultations at the discovery of the meaning of the word l'envoy, in Love's Labour lost, his etymology is but fantastical; nor is it justified by the Tre­voux Dictionary, which seems to be the ne plus ultra of his French learning."

Indeed! — In the first place, Mr. Critick, you tell a notorious untruth in asserting a thing you know no­thing of: you have looked, I suppose, into the Dictio­naire de Trevoux, and because you cannot find such etymology justified by that work, you flatly affirm it to be fantastical, and very logically conclude that, be­cause one Reviewer's French learning extends no far­ther than the Trevoux Dictionary, another's must be confined to the same limits. It appears, however, that Mr. K. has at least one dictionary more of French learning, as you call it, than you; for I find in one, that he put not long since into my hands, that his ety­mology of the word envoy is there justified in the fol­lowing words:

I shall mention but one more of their criticisms; as it contains either a proof of their saying only what other writers have said before them, or of their rea­diness occasionally to adopt the sagacity of others in silence.

It is really very good of these gentlemen to give such a paultry observer as Mr. K. credit for any thing; es­pecially as they had nothing better to offer than mere conjecture. But the worst on it is, that this conjecture was long ago conjectured by Mr. Pope, who adopted the same reading for the sake of the rhime. This, however, it is possible these criticks on the critick of the editors of Shakespeare knew nothing at all about.

I come now to the more serious part of the offence, which these criticks have both taken and given, with regard to Mr. K's performance. This is the passage immediately succeeding the above; in which, admitting [Page 27] that Dr. J's note is a vile one, they proceed to insinuate that Mr. K. in his reprehension of it, hath forfeited his pretensions to honour, spirit and virtue. Nay, rea­der, don't laugh; it is really the Critical Reviewers, who, in this very article, "have entered their caveat against illiberal criticism," and talk about honour and virtue; even those, whose criticism hath heretofore been deemed l—s, and as such punished accordingly. You will say, perhaps, that they are reformed; that they have since authorized their printer to pay fifty pounds, out of his own pocket, to any person who can bring legal proof of their having taken money for the insertion of partial characters of books and authors, although they own it has been offered them ^*. What an instance this last of their integrity, impartiality and virtue! — Very true, indeed, and I firmly believe that they never did take any pecuniary bribe on this ac­count; for, though I am acquainted with many mer­cenary booksellers, and as many vain authors, yet I don't know one, whom I think fool enough to value the best character they could give of his performance at three farthings. I will not contradict them positively indeed, and say that not one such is to be found; but [Page 28] it happens extremely unlucky that these criticks, in thinking to do themselves honour, should confess a thing that cannot fail to entail on them disgrace. They own that money hath been offered them, though they had so much virtue as to refuse to take it. Does not this circumstance alone sufficiently evince what opinion the persons, offering the bribe, must have of those to whom it was offered? — Oh! fie! fie! for shame! never make this confession again, whether true or false, as you value your very existence. Virtus post mortem may serve well enough for a motto to the atchieve­ment of a dead cheesemonger; but the virtue even of a Critical Reviewer is not worth a groat to an author, who is damned while he is alive.

For decency's sake be a little consistent; and, for the future, beware of extolling the works of strangers to the skies, and of endeavouring afterwards to drag them down again, when you find such writers know too much to be vain of your praises, and are too sin­cere to become your friends. In vain may your hod­mandod ^* of a printer display his brawny muscles, and threaten to avenge your cause by his skill in the athle­tic sciences. You have yourselves given Mr. K. the apellation of a Tartar; and can you imagine he is to intimidated by the frowns of a Saracen's head? Let not [Page 29] your discreet hearts think it. Are there not ways and means to curb the insolence of ruffians, and guard [Page 30] against the malice of assassins? Have we not Hyren here! Farewel — be advised and prosper.

SECT. VI.

EVERY body knows who was the original Sylva­nus Urban, honest Cave, who, little as he knew of li­terature or science himself, had yet so much knowledge and discretion as to set a just value on his friends and correspondents, and behave to them at least with gra­titude and common decency. When the necessity, in­deed, of employing persons of superior genius and learning obliged him to lean on some right-hand-man, he could not always be accountable for what he was urged to do by others. In time Sylvanus Urban be­came [Page 31] a mere shadow; and the good-will of his friends was liable to be perverted by the caprice, ignorance, or ill-will of his journeymen-editors. How far the present Sylvanus is his own friend, in admitting of such a perversion, time hath already evinced in some degree, and will daily exhibit more plainly. Before I proceed any farther, however, I shall insert Mr. Urban's ac­count of Mr. K's Review.

Would not any indifferent persons, who should read the above passage, imagine at least that the writer of it never once heard of the Reviewer, or his writings, in his life? But are not Dr. H—h and Mr. H—y the editors and managers of the Gentleman's Maga­zine? And is it possible that neither of these gentlemen remember that Mr. K. hath been an occasional contri­butor to their work from a very school-boy? And is this a specimen of the manners with which they treat a correspondent, for whom they have more than once expressed the highest regard; and for whose valuable contributions (as they have called them) they have even offered pecuniary gratifications, which he never conde­scended to accept? I have now in my hands sufficient proofs of what is here intimated, and the Gentleman's Magazine affords various others of the acknowledged value of the papers Mr. K. hath sent it, respecting very different branches of science and literature.

Can the managers of that work be so mean and self-interested, as to treat Mr. K. in this scandalous manner, because he has of late years been induced to favour other periodical works of the like kind? They can have no other motive, unless it be their closer attach­ment to Dr. J. But, however they may have been [Page 34] obliged to that gentleman, and whatever opinion they may have of his literary abilities, are candour, truth and justice, all to give way to their partiality for him? Are the talents and reputations of the Doctors Johnson and H—h so very bulky, that those both of the dead and the living must be mangled, mutilated and de­pressed, in order to allow them room enough to va­pour in? Surely the recent loss of a Lloyd and a Chur­chill might have rendered them a little more at ease in so wide a world! But, no. They are determined to have the universe to themselves and their partizans; condemning every one to defamation or obscurity, who does not enlist under the banner of the colossus ^*.

[Page 35]They are here given to know, however, that Mr. K. detests all combinations in literature, as much as he despises the monopolists of fame. Let those, who find themselves unable to stand alone, combine to sup­port each other. Mr. K. will go hand in hand with any fair and open enquirer after literary or scientific improvement: but he is neither so young and weak as to need the help of leading-strings, nor so old and feeble as to require the assistance of crutches. But to proceed.

Mr. Urban pretends, even after thus throwing out the most infamous and groundless insinuations con­cerning the motives for Mr. K's Review, to select such a specimen of it, as may enable the reader to judge of the rest, without calling his impartiality in question. What these specimens are, may be seen at the bottom of the page ^*; and how far they will justify his impar­tiality [Page 36] is left to the reader to determine, after having compared them with Mr. K's Review.

[Page 37]As to the insinuations themselves, they are indeed too invidious and contemptible to require any other an­swer than may be deduced from the foregoing pages of this defence. But if Mr. Urban, and his brother criticks, will admit no man to have modesty or virtue but Dr. J. in whom even indolence and insolence is par­tially conceived to be such, they may know that Mr. K. [Page 38] hath at least pride enough to be above envying any man, and industry enough to stand in no need of that charity whieh idleness must accept of or starve ^†.

All the world knows the Adventurer languished for a pension, and long pined away at the disappointment: nor will even his reputation supply its place, not­withstanding [Page 39] he may set an additional value on it ^*. But it is not for persons of such confined talents, and pusillanimous dispositions, to judge of the motives and actions of writers of more extensive knowledge and more manly abilities.

If any of Dr.J's partizans think they can defend him, in the late outrage he hath committed against the memory and reputation of Shakespeare, let them stand forth boldly, and they shall be received like men. But this, it seems, is not enough for the refined and elegant writers of the present age: they must be treated with tenderness, with gentility, with sweatmeat and su­gar-candy I warrant ye, like fine ladies and peeking children.—Out upon such a pack of finicking fribbles; with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins heads, and those even minnikins; mere dealers in frippery in the rag-fair of Literature! It is certainly a wonder­ful instance of a man's self-sufficiency to think him­self able to encounter such diminitive opponents as these! Here, as Falstaff says, is no vanity. Dean Swift used to say of himself, that he was too proud to be vain. I will venture, in this particular case, to say the same of the Reviewer of Dr. Johnson's Shakespeare: and so, Master Sylvanus, good night to your Urba­nity; and, to supper with what appetite you may.

SECT. VII.

IT is something remarkable that, among all the wri­ters, who have drawn the pen on the present occasion, against Mr. K. not one of them hath ventured to take the part of Dr. J. The critical Reviewers, we have seen, give him up entirely; even Mr. Urban himself says nothing in his defence. The pretended acrimony of Mr. K's manner, indeed, is disapproved by all par­ties; but this I have already endeavoured to justify. I shall proceed, therefore, to enquire how far those, which are as yet unnoticed, are justifiable in their man­ner of treating Mr. K.—To begin with the Candid Reviewers. These honest gentlemen, who have bor­rowed the whole of Mr. K's preface, as they did the month before the greater part of Dr. J's, have given such an inconsistent and motley account of the Re­viewer's performance, that it is very difficult to say whether they have most praised or censured it.

In its favour they sometimes admit, that "the matter of it does demand the highest approbation." That "Dr. Johnson will find himself unable to reply to it."—That "Mr. Kenrick has very sufficiently shewn that Dr. Johnson has played booty throughout his boasted edition."—That "Mr. K. hath improved upon Dr. J."—That "they agree with Mr. K. that [Page 41] Shakespeare still stands as much in need of a new edi­tion as ever."—That "he hath happily succeeded in giving, by means of an easy interpretation, a con­sistent meaning to several passages, in regard to which other interpreters have run after far-fetched explica­tions."—That "they entirely agree with him in the simple sense he gives to words, and join with him in wondering how Warburton and others could ever puz­zle themselves so much about them," &c. &c.

In its disfavour, they insinuate that "Mr. K. has Committed blunders as well as other men, who bragged as much, witness poor Dr. Warburton."—That "Mr. K. has sometimes misapprehended his author's meaning, as well as Dr. Johnson."—That "future observers will improve on Mr. K, and that he is therefore not fit to publish an edition of Shakespeare."—That "Mr. K. instead of profiting by his own admonitions, some­times commits the same faults he blames in others."— That they cannot help expressing "their admiration at the blessed effects which metaphysics and philosophy have upon criticism in poetry!" intimating thereby that Mr. K. is too much of a philosopher to know any thing of poetry.—That Mr. K. displays great inability in tracing out the beauty of poetic images, and that his remarks are ridiculous.

I shall not enter upon a confutation of the assertions of these critics; the instances in which they presume to differ from Mr. K. being, to the last degree, ab­surd and contemptible; as the reader may conclude from their affirming, in the course of their critical in­vestigation, that Shakespeare had no knowledge of a [Page 42] climax, which they are pleased to term a rhetorical gorgon-faced word. They have sagaciously discovered also that Shakespeare acted, with very little judgment, in the execution of one of his greatest master-pieces of art. But this is sufficient with regard to their lite­rary strictures: I come now to their personal ones; and here they charge Mr. K. with having descended to make use of "scurrility, abusive and even low-lived ^* petulance," with "ribaldry," with "bragging," with "foul language," with "being habituated to abusive blustering," with "wanting a pension to stop his mouth," with "being a voracious boreas," with "be­ing a literary bruiser," with "fighting tooth and nail [Page 43] like dogs and bears," and finally with "being a whim­sical, lynx-eyed, critico-poetico-metaphysico-magico philosopher."

The reader will judge for himself how far a set of critics, who are so admirably well skilled in calling names, are to be credited in charging any writer with scurrility, petulance, ribaldry and foul-language; words, I can assure him, that are not to be found in Mr. K's Review! But it is not only against such critics, as pretend to have read his performance, that Mr. K. hath just cause of complaint. There are those who condemn both him and his Review, without seeing or knowing any thing of either, except what is told them by Dr. Johnson's partizans. Nay, several of these candid and impartial gentry began to rail openly in the public news-papers, at sight of Mr. K's advertisement only. The terms of this, truly, were highly inde­cent; it was a kind of high-treason, a species of im­piety, even to imagine Dr. Johnson could be ignorant or inattentive. One would have thought him placed at the head of literature, as the Roman pontiff is at the head of his church, and with the same pretensions to infallibility. Every body, forsooth, was expected to kiss pope Johnson's toe, even at the hazard of hav­ing their fore-teeth kicked out by his holiness's bruta­lity. But Mr. K. had never any inclination to be treated in so gross a manner, as that in which he had heard Dr. J. had taken the liberty to behave towards some per­sons of the first rank in the world of science and letters. It was reserved for him, indeed, to pay the doctor in his own coin, and avenge the repeated insults received [Page 44] by injured modesty. To appeal to fact, however, in support of what is above asserted, Mr. K's Review was hardly published before a letter, signed J. May, appeared in the London Chronicle, evidently founded on the advertisement only, in which Mr. K. was charged in gross terms with making use of FOUL-MOUTHED language, of want of decency, good-manners, and I know not what.—What a fine-mouthed, smooth-tongued, polished generation is the present! This Mr. Sweet-lips was pleased to say, "Whatever judg­ment the public may entertain of the late edition of Shakespeare, the editor is too well known, to have the charge of ignorance so easily admitted against him."— Doubtless he is; and it would in no shape have an­swered the Reviewer's end for the public to have been satisfied by his advertisement without reading his book.—By the readiness, however, with which Mr. May, and indeed all Dr. J's friends, seem to give up the editor of Shakespeare, there is great reason to pre­sume Mr. K. did not promise more in the news-papers than he effected in his pamphlet. So that it appears Dr. J. is not so well known as this gentleman supposes. His name, indeed, is in every body's mouth, and it is possible there are few of those, whom, from their fondness for fine writers, we may with propriety enough call fine readers, who have not yawned with drowsy admiration over those quaint and in­sipid performances, Irene and the Idler. But these works support but a small part of Dr. Johnson's literary reputation: the foundation of which is laid so deep in the rubbish of erudition, that it is im­possible [Page 45] for such superficial readers to discover it. Like the spectator of the invisible cock, however, Mr. May seems to be very sure it is there.—This same Mr. J. May, also, takes farther upon him to ask ‘who is this W. K. who so rudely steps forth from — nobody knows where, to attack a gentleman of known literary abilities?’ —This gentleman must have very few connections, and know little of what is doing, in the literary world, to have any occasion to ask such a question. For, whoever he be, or where­ever he comes from, Mr. K. may certainly say with propriety to HIM, Not to know me argues thyself unknown. But perhaps this gentleman, like the editor of Lloyd's Chronicle, and some other writers, who af­fected, on the like occasion, to speak of one Mr. K. as if an utter stranger to his existence, may only know him too well, having before smarted from the just se­verity of his critical pen. If so, Mr. May is answered; if not, and he was really desirous of knowing some­thing of Mr. K. he may have, in some measure, gra­tified his curiosity in the perusal of the foregoing sheets.

The next gentleman I shall take notice of (which shall be the last, as there would be no end of pursuing anonymous writers) is one Mr. Hypercriticus, who, about the same time, without ever having seen Mr. K's book, was incited to publish, among other sagacious reflections, the following wise sentences. ‘From the very short time since the publication of Mr. John­son's edition of Shakespeare, and from the very ra­pid [Page 46] ^* progress of Mr. Kenrick's remarks thereon, I believe they must be crude and imperfect.’ Believe! quoth he, Is not this very candid and ingenuous? But he proceeds to give a reason for the faith that is in him. ‘For to pass a right judgment on books (says Longinus) requires a great length of time, and a perfect knowledge of the subject.’ Well, and what then? The writings of Shakespeare might have been the object of Mr. K's study for years, and he might thence have acquired (at least for what Hyper­criticus knew to the contrary) a perfect knowledge of the subject; and if so, no longer time would be re­quisite for him to point out Dr. Johnson's mistakes, than was necessary to read his book. But, says this gentleman, ‘I suppose Mr. K. is a critick by intui­tion; one who, in regard to books, sees into the merit of the whole, by reading only a part.’ As we had before a believe here we have a suppose. Are not these very pretty grounds to proceed on, to the condemnation of a writer unread. But how, if what I just now asserted be true, that Shakespeare's writings have been many years the favourite object of Mr. K's reading and study; how, if he hath long since accumulated materials for an edition of that poet, as [Page 47] is also true; I say, how, Mr. Hypercriticus, in this case, can you justify your precipitate censures, and what becomes of your suppose? And to suppose for once it was not so, surely Mr. K. might, as you say, judge of the whole by reading a part, with as much propriety as you judge of his performance by reading only his advertisement in the news-papers? Why might not he be, without a suppose, a critick intuitively as well as you? But "sarcasm, you say, is unmannerly." I wish, that where you learned to be so very mannerly, you had only learned also to be equally ingenuous; you would have saved me the trouble, and yourself the mortification, of this reprehension. I say the same to all the rest of the mannerly, candid, decent, delicate partizans of Dr. Johnson, who have, on this occasion, been attempting to box in mufflers, or throwing dirt with their gloves on. As to the former, Mr. K. is too hardy to feel their puny efforts to offend him; and, as to the latter he cannot help smiling to see, how ea­sily their pellets dry and rub out, while they themselves are begrimed up to the ears, in vainly endeavouring to bespatter him.

Having now done with particular altercation, I should here leave both Mr. K. and Dr. J. to stand or fall by the judgment of the publick, had there not been some strictures let fall in some of the papers levelled against Mr. K. charging him with as great a want of modesty, as he hath done Dr. J. with want of knowledge. I shall therefore beg leave to say a word or two on both these topicks, viz. on the modesty of men of letters, and on literary knowledge.

SECT. VIII.

OF all kinds of modesty, whether real or affected, perhaps that of Authors is the most singular. A modest Author! It is a kind of contradiction in terms, and sounds to my ear exactly like the expression of a modest strumpet. There is no doubt that a man may be a modest man before he commence writer, as a gentle­man may be an honest gentleman before he be made minister-of-state, or as even a butcher may have some bowels of compassion before he turn bum-bailiff; but no sooner are they initiated into the routine of their respective offices, than modesty, honesty, and huma­nity take flight and leave them.

This is severe, you will say.—It is so; but it is ne­vertheless founded in truth, and may be applied to many writers now living, and probably likely to live so long as they can get any thing by prostituting either their talents or reputation.

Certain it is, that a closer parallel can hardly be drawn between any two known characters, than between a common scribbler and a common strumpet. How bashfully doth the young enamorato of the muses look at you, when you speak to him about publish­ing his first production; even as an innocent country­wench blushes up to the eyes, when you first talk of untying her garter! But when they have been a while tumbled over in the sheets, the virgin-modesty [Page 49] of both is pretty equal. There is this difference be­tween them, indeed, that the one grows bold by lo­sing reputation, and the other by gaining it. This difference, however, does not in the least alter their conduct or appearance when they come upon the town: the reputation then aimed at by both, being very dif­ferent from what they either lost or gained. The one seeks not to improve his talents any more than the other her charms; but both apply assiduously to dis­play and make the most of what they possess; and if they covet fame, it is generally with a secondary view to the venal purposes of prostitution ^*. Is it pos­sible that such characters can have any real modesty, however necessary they may find it to assume its ap­pearance, artfully to impose on the world?

Not but that there are degrees, both in venality and impudence; so that as a demi-rep may be compara­tively modest and disinterested, so may an author. But to drop the comparison; as there are many writers of a more liberal stamp than to come under any deno­mination that will rank them in this parallel; writers, who, while they labour to instruct and entertain the publick, labour equally to improve themselves, and to render their future writings more valuable from the en­couragement [Page 50] given to the present, I must own I can­not help thinking that such writers debase themselves greatly, whenever they affect the false modesty of un­experienced tyros, or designing ignorants. There is a species of assurance in men of real knowledge, which may be said, without impropriety, to be consistent with the modesty becoming their character, as they could not possibly divest themselves of it without evident hypocrisy and affectation. As to authors by profession, they must necessarily either display their assurance by insisting on their own merit, or, in fact, confess themselves bunglers, or impostors. And indeed why should they not? If an artist discover any mode of mechanical operation, or execute a piece of mechanism, which is an improvement on what others have done be­fore him, or what nobody can execute but himself, who charges him with want of modesty in boldly asserting his own pre-eminence? Why then should a critick, a philosopher, an historian, or a poet, be thought too assuming in laying publick claim to that merit, which they actually possess? What should we think of an artizan or manufacturer, who should, in his advertise­ments and shop-bills, modestly affect a diffidence of be­ing able to give his customers satisfaction, having him­self a mean opinion of his own abilities? Should we not conclude, without hesitation, that he was either a knave or fool, or both? Yet how common is it to meet with authors, who have been many years in trade, ridiculously affecting to think meanly of pro­ductions, which they nevertheless importunately ob­trude on the publick, and make us pay for at as high [Page 51] a price as possible? Yet many of these writers have the character of being modest men. In my opinion, however, I think it an instance of very great impudence, to say no worse of it, for a man to offer me a com­modity at a great price, and to tell me at the same time he thinks it good for little. For what is this, in fact, but to tell me that he thinks me as great a fool as he confesses himself to be a knave?

And yet, if a writer were to use the same arguments in the preface of his book, to set off his works to ad­vantage, as an artizan or manufacturer is allowed to do his, in his shop or warehouse, he would of course be condemned for want of modesty. Thus we see a very modest man may incur the obloquy of being an impudent author; and a very impudent author acquire the reputation of being a modest man.

The true state of this matter seems to be this. Ig­norance and impudence as generally go together as in­nocence and modesty; but ignorance being often the companion, and sometimes even the guardian, of in­nocence, it is no wonder that impudence should put on the appearance of modesty, in order to make us take mere ignorance for pure innocence.

Knowledge as naturally inspires fortitude, as truth abominates hypocrisy. How absurd is it then to re­quire men of real abilities to affect that diffidence and ignorance to which they must necessarily be strangers! At the same time, what can we think of those writers, who, after being long hackneyed in the ways of men, and of their profession; who, after setting themselves up even at the head of that profession, pretend [Page 52] to tremble while they write, to bow down with reveren­tial awe to superior learning, to kiss the rod of correc­tion, &c. &c. What, I say, can we think of such writers, but that, sensible of their own ignorance or im­becillity, they are cajoling the publick in a manner that deserves the name of the highest impudence.

Much more modest and manly is it for a wri­ter of years and experience, to assert boldly and con­fidently what he hath good reason to think he knows ^*; and openly to defy every groundless imputation or in­sinuation of ignorance.

SECT. IX.

IT hath been frequently observed, that the know­ledge of words is not the knowledge of things. Indeed the distinction between the scholar and the man of science is now become general. It is nevertheless cer­tain, that a man cannot be a considerable proficient in philology, particularly with regard to the modern languages, without having made some acquisitions in science. It is not my intent, however, to expatiate here on this distinction, or to enhance the preference due to science above mere literature; my intention be­ing [Page 53] only to throw out a few short observations on li­terary knowledge in general.

‘Be not vain of thy learning, child, said my grand­father to me when I was a boy; I have lived to for­get more than thou hast learned in thy whole life.’ All this was very true; and yet I thought myself, ne­vertheless, as good a scholar as my grandfather: for when we were sometimes both at a loss for a word or two of Greek, I found the only difference between us was, that I turned to the Lexicon for those I never knew, and he for those he could not remember: but my copia verborum was nevertheless equal to his.

Now it would be a matter of some importance to determine, whether a man can with propriety be said to know what he cannot remember, even though he should have formerly had it perfectly impressed in his memory?

I am afraid that we shall go nigh to be laughed at by the vulgar, should we admit that a man may be said to know what he hath forgot, and can't tell us if we ask him. And yet, if he should recollect it half-an-hour hence, without any body's telling him in the mean time, surely he must have had such knowledge in him at the time of his being asked; since it does not appear that he had by any external means acquired it since.

This would afford a curious and subtle disqusition; but, as I have not time to enter here into a profound investigation of all the difficulties that suggest themselves concerning it, I shall only make an application of it to the [Page 54] learning of the two last editors of Shakespeare, and leave the reader to make it out as well as he can.

Mr. K. hath proved, in several parts of his Review of Dr. J's edition, that the said editor either did not then know, or had forgot the meaning of several words and passages, which it is plain the Doctor must have formerly known, and probably would have recollected some odd time or other. I shall instance only one or two. In one the very learned Doctors J. and W. both appear not to know the meaning of the word convene; Dr. W. objecting to Shakespeare's proper use of it, and Dr. J. adopting the said objection: and yet Mr. K. hath justified Shakespeare, and convicted both the editors on the authority of Dr. J's own Dictionary.

Again, in regard to the use of the old phrase, taken with the manner, both these learned editors flatly con­tradict themselves; asserting in one volume that it is used one way, and in another volume that it is used differently.

I might mention many other instances of the like kind; but these will suffice for my present purpose. What I want to know is, whether these are instances of ignorance or not?

Dr. J's friends will say, "O, no — he certainly knew better." Knew better? when? What, when he was told of the blunder, I suppose? Surely that man may justly be called ignorant, whose knowledge, how great soever, is out of the way when it is wanted!

Will it be said, these are not instances of ignorance but inattention? Pray what is inattention? Do you [Page 55] mean to say that the Doctor did not read these pas­sages, or that he read them when he was asleep?

If he read them, and was wide awake, these mis­takes could never have happened from inattention, but must have been derived from forgetfulness; which, according to the arguments above adduced, must be a species at least of ignorance.

But the criticks will possibly ask me, what I mean by being wide awake, and by Dr. J's reading these passages? They will say, perhaps, that they know as well as I, that, when a commentator reads a passage over, he must comprehend it some way or other, right or wrong; and that no inattention, in that case, can prevent the operation of his judgment respecting the words that lie before him; so that, if he then mis­takes, it must be through ignorance. ‘But this was not the case; (it may be said) Dr. J. could never dream that Dr. W. could be mistaken so grossly in matters so clear and obvious, and therefore copied those passages implicitly from Dr. W's Comment: so that it was nothing more than inattention.’

Call you this method of proceeding inattention? It is such wilful negligence, that your friend Dr. J. will hardly be obliged to you for thus defending him from the charge of ignorance; for surely, if we may not call it want of knowledge, we must call it want of— something else, which a man of acknowledged virtue should not be without. What would a similar con­duct to this, be called in any of the common con­cerns of life? Happy is it, undoubtedly, for the pre­sent race of authors, that they ALL, being pensioned, [Page 56] can subsist and provide for their families, without be­ing obliged to publish their works by subscription; for, after such flagrant instances of inattention, and that in a writer of the first reputation for learning and virtue, what encouragement can any other, of less note, or less reputed virtue, ever hope to meet with?

The late Mr. Fielding, speaking somewhere of those gentlemen, who had tied themselves up, as it was then called, from subscribing to works of genius and lite­rature, expresses his resentment against them, by say­ing, it is a pity they were not tied up in good earnest; but what do those authors deserve, who first gave oc­casion for people entering into such illiberal engage­ments?

And what doth Dr. J. in particular deserve, for having obtruded on the world the worst Commentary of Shakespeare that ever appeared? and, at the same time, for having, by his procrastination and neglect, so effectually disgusted the publick with editors and subscriptions, that it is presumed the ablest commenta­tor in the kingdom would find little encouragement for a similar undertaking? notwithstanding, as the criticks justly observe, SHAKESPEARE stands NOW in more need of a NEW EDITION than ever.