forgive him for trafficking
with my Papers without my Knowledge; and, when that Project fail'd, for
employing a number of my Conjectures in his Edition against my express
Desire not to have that Honour done unto me.

Mr. _Theobald_ was naturally turned to Industry and Labour. What he read
he could transcribe: but, as what he thought, if ever he did think, he
could but ill express, so he read on; and by that means got a Character of
Learning, without risquing, to every Observer, the Imputation of wanting a
better Talent. By a punctilious Collation of the old Books, he corrected
what was manifestly wrong in the _latter_ Editions, by what was manifestly
right in the _earlier_. And this is his real merit; and the whole of it.
For where the Phrase was very obsolete or licentious in the _common_
Books, or only slightly corrupted in the _other_, he wanted sufficient
Knowledge of the Progress and various Stages of the _English_ Tongue, as
well as Acquaintance with the Peculiarity of _Shakespear_'s Language, to
understand what was right; nor had he either common Judgment to see, or
critical Sagacity to amend, what was manifestly faulty. Hence he generally
exerts his conjectural Talent in the wrong Place: He tampers with what is
found in the _common_ Books; and, in the _old_ ones, omits all Notice of
_Variations_ the Sense of which he did not understand.

How the _Oxford Editor_ came to think himself qualified for this Office,
from which his whole Course of Life had been so remote, is still more
difficult to conceive. For whatever Parts he might have either of Genius
or Erudition, he was absolutely ignorant of the Art of Criticism, as well
as the Poetry of that Time, and the Language of his Author: And so far
from a Thought of examining the _first_ Editions, that he even neglected
to compare Mr. _Pope_'s, from which he printed his own, with Mr.
_Theobald_'s; whereby he lost the Advantage of many fine Lines which the
other had recovered from the old Quartos. Where he trusts to his own
Sagacity, in what affects the Sense, his Conjectures are generally absurd
and extravagant, and violating every Rule of Criticism. Tho', in this Rage
of Correcting, he was not absolutely destitute of all _Art_. For, having a
Number of my Conjectures before him, he took as many of them as he saw
fit, to work upon; and by changing them to something, he thought,
synonymous or similar, he made them his own; and so became a Critic at a
cheap Expence. But h