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The rage of Parallelisms is almost over, and in truth nothing can be more absurd. “This was stolen from one Classick,—That from another”;—and had I not stept in to his rescue, poor Shakespeare had been stript as naked of ornament, as when he first held Horses at the door of the Playhouse.

The late ingenious and modest Mr. Dodsley declared himself

Untutor'd in the lore of Greece or Rome:

Yet let us take a passage at a venture from any of his performances, and a thousand to one, it is stolen. Suppose it be his celebrated Compliment to the Ladies, in one of his earliest pieces, The Toy-shop: “A good Wife makes the cares of the World sit easy, and adds a sweetness to its pleasures; she is a Man's best Companion in Prosperity, and his only Friend in Adversity; the carefullest preserver of his Health, and the kindest Attendant in his Sickness; a faithful Adviser in Distress, a Comforter in Affliction, and a prudent Manager in all his domestic Affairs.”—Plainly, from a fragment of Euripides preserved by Stobæus.

“Žt ³pÁ ½ º±º¿Öù º±v ½yÿ¹Â Àyõ¹

-´¹ÃÄy½ ÃĹ, ´}¼±Ä½ $½ ¿0ºÇ º±»öÂ,

HÁ³u½ ĵ ÀÁ±{½¿Åñ, º±v ´Åøżw±Â

¨ÅÇt½ ¼µ¸¹ÃĶý!—Par. 4to. 1623.

Malvolio in the Twelfth-Night of Shakespeare hath some expressions very similar to Alnaschar in the Arabian Tales: which perhaps may be sufficient for some Criticks to prove his acquaintance with Arabic!

It seems however, at last, that “Taste should determine the matter.” This, as Bardolph expresses it, is a word of exceeding good command: but I am willing that the Standard itself be somewhat better ascertained before it be opposed to demonstrative Evidence.—Upon the whole, I may consider myself as the Pioneer of the Commentators:

I have removed a deal of learned Rubbish, and pointed out to them Shakespeare's track in the ever-pleasing Paths of Nature. This was necessarily a previous Inquiry; and I hope I may assume with some confidence, what one of the first Criticks of the Age was pleased to declare on reading the former Edition, that “The Question is now for ever decided.”

An Essay On The Learning Of Shakespeare: Addressed To Joseph Cradock, Esq.

“Shakespeare,” says a Brother of the Craft, “is a vast garden of criticism”: and certainly no one can be favoured with more weeders gratis.

But how often, my dear Sir, are weeds and flowers torn up indiscriminately?—the ravaged spot is re-planted in a moment, and a profusion of critical thorns thrown over it for security.

“A prudent man, therefore, would not venture his fingers amongst them.”

Be, however, in little pain for your friend, who regards himself sufficiently to be cautious:—yet he asserts with confidence, that no improvement can be expected, whilst the natural soil is mistaken for a hot-bed, and the Natives of the banks of Avon are scientifically choked with the culture of exoticks.

Thus much for metaphor; it is contrary to the Statute to fly out so early: but who can tell, whether it may not be demonstrated by some critick or other, that a deviation from rule is peculiarly happy in an Essay on Shakespeare!

You have long known my opinion concerning the literary acquisitions of our immortal Dramatist; and remember how I congratulated myself on my coincidence with the last and best of his Editors. I told you, however, that his small Latin and less Greek would still be litigated, and you see very assuredly that I was not mistaken. The trumpet hath been sounded against “the darling project of representing Shakespeare as one of the illiterate vulgar”; and indeed to so good purpose, that I would by all means recommend the performer to the army of the braying Faction, recorded by Cervantes. The testimony of his contemporaries is again disputed; constant tradition is opposed by flimsy arguments; and nothing is heard but confusion and nonsense. One could scarcely imagine this a topick very likely to inflame the passions: it is asserted by Dryden, that “those who accuse him to have wanted learning, give him the greatest commendation”; yet an