"For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams."

Surely, who that remembers the following lines in the Prologue of the interlude, can doubt for a moment that gleams is the word?

'Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,

He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast;"

If we change the original at all, a good emendation in the second folio must yield to a better from Mr. Knight; for the second folio, with or without MS. emendations, has no authority.

SCENE 2.

"Obe. With this field-dew consecrate,

Every fairy take his gait;

And each several chamber bless,

Through this palace with sweet peace;

Ever shall in safety rest,

And the owner of it blest."

"Ever shall in safety rest," is neither sense nor English, ancient or modern. There is no nominative, expressed or understood. Pope read,

"E'er shall it in safety rest;"

but Warburton and Mr. Collier's folio in reading,

"Ever shall it safely rest,"

deviate less, in fact, as little as possible, from the original, and obtain the same sense and a smoother line.

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

ACT I. SCENE 1.

"Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;

A stage, where every man must play a part,

And mine a sad one."

I do not know that it has been before remarked, that to the dignity of Antonio's character there is added a tinge of moody, tender melancholy, which yet stops short of morbidness or affectation, and which adds much to the interest awakened in us by his generous friendship and the trying circumstances in which his noble kindness places him. This sadness, as well as the gentleness and open sincerity of his character, appears in the letter in which he announces his misfortune to Bassanio,-one of the finest instances of the pathos of simplicity that exists in literature.

"Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since in paying it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter."

No commentator has shown such an utter want of sympathy with the finest thoughts and the finest characters in

Shakespeare's works, as that one who has, naturally therefore, assumed the most patronizing tone in speaking of them,— Warburton. It would have been strange indeed, had he appreciated so noble, and yet so delicately drawn a character as Antonio; and we are not surprised to hear him call this prince of commerce "a plain, reserved, parsimonious merchant." Warburton says this in a note which he writes, to prove that when Shylock calls Antonio "a bankrupt, a prodigal who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto," he should call him, "a bankrupt for a prodigal" -i. e. for Bassanio. Since the critic could not feel the noble generosity of Antonio's nature, it is gratifying to see so pitiable a blunder in criticism made the occasion of showing his want of sympathy.

"Grat. There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a wilful stillness entertain,

With purpose to be dressed in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity," &c.

Without good assurance of the fact, it would hardly be believed that a man of common sense would think it necessary deliberately to perpetrate a note on this passage for the purpose of defining "a wilful stillness" as 'an obstinate silence.' Yet it is unfortunately true that Malone did so; as any one may see in the Variorum Shakespeare. And in the third scene of this Act, when Bassanio, to prevent Antonio from sealing the bond asked for by the Jew, says,

"You shall not seal to such a bond for me;
I'll rather dwell in my necessity,"

Dr. Johnson remarks, with timid solemnity, that "to dwell,

in this place seems to mean the same as to continue." On reading such a note as this, we use Hamlet's phrase,

"Seems, Madam? nay it is; I know not seems."

Why did not the Doctor deliberately assure us that " my necessity" means 'my need?' It would not have been one whit more superfluous. But in King Lear, Johnson outdoes himself. In that passage of bitter ironical reproach in the fourth Scene of the second Act, when Lear, supposing himself to address Goneril, says,

"Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;

Age is unnecessary: On my knees I beg

That you'll vouch safe me raiment, bed, and food,"

how cutting is the irony, how grand and crushing the rebuke of her ingratitude conveyed in the seemingly humble admission that "age is unnecessary," that the old are needless and a burden! Will it be believed, Dr. Johnson, the great Dr. Johnson, makes this note upon the passage !— Age is unnecessary:] i. e. Old age has few wants."

But Thomas Tyrwhitt almost rivals 'the great moralist.' -He remarks,

"Unnecessary, in Lear's specch, I believe means-in want of necessaries, unable to procure them."

6

The obvious and pregnant significance of the passage seems in danger of being extinguished for readers so near the Augustan age of English literature,' when Steevens steps in and nearly saves it, by venturing to suggest that "Age is unnecessary,' may mean, old people are useless."

Now, there must be a reason for the utterance of such

platitudes as these, and a thousand others which deform the page of the Variorum Shakespeare, by men of learning and ability. It is in vain to urge that on account of the labors of these very men we now understand the phraseology of Shakespeare's works; for among my own acquaintance I know a score of men of all grades of intelligence and education, who have never seen a comment or a criticism on Shakespeare, never looked at a glossary, who read him and have read him for years with delight and understanding, and who would scout such editing as this, as sheer impertinence; and so, in truth, it is. I find the reason for these labored explanations of lucid passages, and the equally labored confusion of others equally clear, in the fact, that the second-hand classic taste, the artificial and meagre phraseology, and the comparatively precise, straitened, tame and barren style of thought in the last century, was so unkindred with the genius of Shakespeare and his age,—the golden age of English letters that passages which flashed their meaning upon the minds of his contemporary readers, and which are as instantly apprehended by the minds of this century,-more kindred with him than the last-were "caviare" to Popes, Warburtons, Hanmers, Johnsons, Malones, and Steevenses and their contemporaries.

SCENE 3.

'Shy. The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands."

"Shy. And spat upon my Jewish gaberdine."

C. Knight gives pill'd for "peel'd" and spet for "spat,” saying that these were the received orthographies of Shakespeare's time. So, also, Mr. Dyce censures Mr. Collier and

* Remarks on Mr. J. P. Collier's and Mr. C. Knight's Editions of Shakespeare, p. 53.