delightful than he is, the fact of having, however unintentionally, overshadowed the land with an army of commentators ever at war with each other and often with staid, good sense, is of itself a serious drawback to the gratification derived from perusal of his works.[1]
Previous to this critical attack, he had lost by the death of Sir Joshua Reynolds one of those endeared friends whom the chances of life even in a great metropolis, seldom allow us to meet, or when lost to replace. The pursuits of the editor enjoyed the favour of the President; while the public merits of the latter commanded that distinction which is due to eminent genius when it carries its owner far beyond his fellows.
Still more cordial if possible was the painter’s association with Burke. It had commenced thirty-four years before, when neither could anticipate that career of celebrity which both were destined to run. The pursuit of one was already fixed. Not so that of the other. Fate was hovering over him, doubtful as yet whether to make him a literary man, a lawyer, a consul,
- ↑ Among the more recent editions of Shakspeare of the highest character, many esteem, as preferable, that of the Rev. Alexander Dyce. The notes are not oppressively numerous; they are placed at the end of each play; and tact and experience have enabled him to profit by the mistakes of others so as to acquire credit for the best text of the poet.
Not less industrious in research is Mr. Halliwall, in his truly splendid volumes. The fac-similes of Shaksperian documents, and the uncommon elegance of typography, must give his edition—if copies are to be had—a place in every select library in the kingdom.
Mr. J. P. Collier would appear, by some letters from the British Museum, to have been subjected to imposition in his celebrated volume of emendations. The fact is sufficiently mortifying to an industrious labourer in the cause, without admitting the charge of inattention or any participation in the deceit.
