prima reponit,--
Incipit agnosci!--

Mr. Becket has favoured us, in the Preface, with a comparative estimate
of the merits of his predecessors. He does not, as may easily be
conjectured, rate any of them very highly; but he places Warburton at
the top of the scale, and Steevens at the bottom: this, indeed, was to
be expected. "Warburton," he says, "is the _best_, and Steevens the
_worst_ of Shakespeare's commentators"; (p. xvii) and he ascribes it
solely to his forbearance that the latter is not absolutely crushed: it
not being in his nature, as he magnanimously insinuates, "to break a
butterfly upon a wheel!" Dr. Johnson is shoved aside with very little
ceremony; Mr. Malone fares somewhat better; and the rest are dismissed
with the gentle valediction of Pandarus to the Trojans--"asses, fools,
dolts! chaff and bran! porridge after meat!" With respect to our author
himself, it is but simple justice to declare, that he comes to the great
work of "restoring Shakespeare"--not only with more negative advantages
than the unfortunate tribe of critics so cavalierly dismissed, but than
all who have aspired to illumine the page of a defunct writer since the
days of Aristarchus. As far as we are enabled to judge, Mr. Becket never
examined an old play in his life:--he does not seem to have the
slightest knowledge of any writer, or any subject, or any language that
ever occupied the attention of his contemporaries; and he possesses a
mind as innocent of all requisite information as if he had dropped, with
the last thunderstone, from the moon.

"Addison has well observed, that 'in works of criticism it is absolutely
necessary to have a _clear and logical head_.'" (p.v.) In this position,
Mr. Becket cheerfully agrees with him; and, indeed, it is sufficiently
manifest, that without the internal conviction of enjoying that
indispensable advantage, he would not have favoured the public with
those matchless "restorations"; a few specimens of which we now proceed
to lay before them. Where all are alike admirable, there is no call for
selection; we shall therefore open the volumes at random, and trust to
fortune.

"_Hamlet_. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?"

This reading, Mr. Becket says, he cannot admit; and he says well: since
it appears that Shakespeare wrote--

"For who would bear the _scores_ of _weapon'd_ time?"

using _scores_ in the sense of stripes. Formerly, _i.e.,_ when Becket
was _in his sallad days