[Oct. 1, 
Critical Remarks on Shakespeare. 
is but too well founrled; but viho would 
wish to exchange these eccentricities of 
genius for a tame and lifeless mediocrity? 
King Lxar. — Act, I. Scene 2. 
Why brand they us witl» base, &c. 
The note of Dr. Warburton upon this 
passage is so ingenious, and liis quotation 
from Vanlni so happy, that it is impos¬ 
sible without some reluctance to remark 
his error in point of fact. For Edmund 
is not represented by Shakespeare as “ a 
confirmed atheist,” or as even displaying 
any tendency’ to atheism. He says, in¬ 
deed, in the opening of this scene, “ Thou 
Nature art my goddess, &c.” but he evi¬ 
dently means only nature, in opposition 
to what he calls “ the plague of custom.” 
And he complains that the unjust dls- 
tinctions of the world have deprived him 
of those rights which nature had conferred 
upon hiai equally with his brother. 
Leay. ‘‘I did her wrong.”—-“To take it 
again perforce.” Act I. Scene 5. 
** He is musing on Cordelia.”—“ He is medi¬ 
tating on the resumption of his roy- 
alty.” yoknscn, 
“ He is rather meditating,” says Mr. 
Steevens, “on his daughter’s having in 
so violent a manner deprived him of those 
privileges which before she had agreed 
to grant him.” 1 think Dr. Johnson 
right in both his explanations. In the 
preceding scene, Lear says to Goneril, 
“Thou shalt find that I’ll resume the 
shape which thou dost think that I have 
cast off for ever.” The words do not well 
apply to the conduct of Goneril, who 
could not be said to take again what slie 
bad never possessed. The privileges of 
Lear were a reservation, iiQC a grant. 
-This is some fellow 
Who, having been prais’d for bluntnes?, doth 
affect 
A saucy rougb.ness; and constrains the garb 
Ouite fr.om his nature: he cannot flatter, be! 
An h-ynest mind and plain, he must speak 
truth, 
An they will take it so—if not he’s plain. 
These kind of knaves I know, which in this 
plainness 
Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends. 
Than twenty silly ducking observants 
That stretch their duties nicely. 
Act II. Scene 2. 
Dr, Warburton greatly Improves this pas¬ 
sage hy siibstituting si/An/ for lie sup¬ 
ports the ciiange very satisfactorily by his 
q-iiotation from Richard III, “ silky, sly, 
iusiuuating Jacks.” The experience of 
everv man will confirm tlie observation of 
the poet, that more craft is often har¬ 
boured under a rough and rustic appear¬ 
ance than the most smooth and courily 
outside. That nicely means foolishly, as 
Mr. Steevens affirms, is not to be ad¬ 
mitted wiiliout proof; and if it were al¬ 
lowed it would not suit the purpose of the 
poet. Nicely is curiously, elaborately 
exact; so in Corlolanus, “the w-ar of 
white and damask in their nicely gawded 
cheeks,” Sic. 
Ye nimble lightnings dart your blinding 
flames 
Into her scornful eyes ! ■ Infect her beauty 
Ye fen-suck’d fogs, drawn by the powerful 
sun 
To fall and blast her pride. Act IJ. Scene 4. 
This is scarcely intelligible. Both sense 
and spirit; are added to the passage if we 
suppose that the poet wrote “ O fall and 
blast her pride !” Perhaps Shakespeare’s 
knowledge of human nature and of the 
workings of the human heart are no 
w’here displayed to more advantage than 
in this incomparable scene. The ungo¬ 
verned violences of passion exhibited by 
Lear, and iiis sudden transitions and re¬ 
turns to tenderness and affection, are, 
wonderfully impressive. And how touch¬ 
ing is the patlins of the few simple words, 
“ I gave you all.” 
--Patience and sorrow strove 
Who should express her goodliest—You have 
seen 
Sunshine and rain at once; her smiles and 
tears 
Were like a better day. Act IV. Scene 3. 
“It is plain,” says Dr. Warburton, “ we 
should read ‘ a wetter May . Tliis is a 
very arbitrary alteration, and it has not 
the merit of being an improvement. 
“ Yon have seen,” says the narrator, 
sunshine and rain at once presenting a 
beautiful contrast. Her smiles atid tears 
might he resembled to such a day. J liey 
exljibited to the imagination the simili¬ 
tude of a day better and more beautil’ul 
than the real one. 
Come on, Sir, here’s the place ; stand still. 
How fearful 
And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low ! 
The crows and choughs that wing the mid* 
way air. 
Shew scarce so gross as beetles. Half way 
down 
Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful 
trade ! 
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head ; 
The fishermen that walk upon the beach 
Appear like mice, and you tall anchoring 
bark 
Diminished to her boat—her boat a buoy 
Almost 
