of vengeance which comes upon those who are conscious of great and repeated offences brings them to repentance.

We shall now, with the reader's leave, proceed to HAMLET, Prince of Denmark. Here, in the fourth scene of the first act, occurs a notable emendation of my great predecessors,

The dram of base

Doth all the noble substance often dout

To his own scandal.

So this passage is now given, instead of the original corrupt reading,

The dram of eale

Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
To his own scandal.

The emendation appears to me exceedingly harsh, and although that which I am going to suggest is too violent to be quite satisfactory to my cautious temperament, yet I think it carrieth some plausibility. I suppose there was a shifting of the types from the upper to the lower line, and read thus,

The dram of doubt

Doth all the noble substance oft anneal

To his own scandal."

That is, the dram of doubtful or base metal doth often, in the operation of annealing, cause the whole substance to become durably as base as it

self. Whether this emendation will be made out by a comparison with the processes used in the arts, I know not, as every thing connected with chemical science, or any branch of philosophy, appeareth to me too insignificant to bestow upon it one moment's attention. Sir Humphry Davy, it is true, may be an ingenious sort of man in his way-but, assuredly his name is not to be men-. tioned on the same day with the illustrious names of the Bentleys, the Theobalds, the Steevenses, the Malones, the Monke Masons, the Sewards, the Sympsons, and the Webers. It would have given me great pleasure if I could have added the Chenevixes, as I was in hopes that Mr Chenevix would, when he took to reading the old plays, have contented himself with the humble task of commenting upon them, instead of setting himself up as a rival to their authors; and it would have been a great triumph gained, if a distinguished chemist had deserted his blow-pipe for black letter; but it must really have been under the influence of an intoxicating gas that this gentleman conceived himself qualified to turn dramatic poet.

But to return: In the eighth scene of the third act of Hamlet, Hamlet says to Horatio,

For thou dost know, O Damon dear,

This realm dismantled was

Of Jove himself; and now reigns here
A very, very,-peacock,

according to the reading now the reading now universally adopted. Theobald had before given paddock, which he explains to mean "a toad." The original word is paiock, which soundeth to me like a foreign word introduced into our language. Following out this hint, if thou wilt look, reader, into any Italian dictionary, thou wilt see that the word baiocco means a piece of money, of about three farthings value; and there was a silver coin of that value in Queen Elizabeth's time, which, as we see in another place, seemed to figure in Shakespear's imagination as something abundantly ridiculous. The Bastard, in King John, says,

In mine ear I durst not stick a rose,

Lest men should say, look where three farthings goes.

When Hamlet, therefore, calls the King a paiock, he merely means to use one of the most contemptuous expressions which occurred to him in the moment; so that I would not here alter the text.

A very slight alteration in another passage will restore sense, where there is now none. In the famous scene with his mother, being the fourth of this third act, Hamlet says,

That monster custom, who all sense doth eat

Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this;

That to the use of actions fair and good

He likewise gives a frock or livery,
That aptly is put on, &c.

Habit's devil is quite unintelligible, and it has been changed by some editors into habits evil; but as angel is mentioned immediately afterwards, it appears that there was the antithesis of devil in the text. The following construction may appear harsh, but in the rapidity of speaking it is very easily supposable, and I have no doubt gives the words of the poet:

That monster custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habits, devil, is angel yet in this, &c.

"Custom, which erases the feeling of habits, though a devil in common, is yet an angel in this, &c."

I now come, reader, to what, I doubt not, thou wilt consider with me as one of the happiest conjectures, (I do not say positively one of the most convincing) which hath been hit upon by any commentator, in ancient or modern times. In the first speech of the play of OTHELLO a puzzle occurs, which hath given occasion to my great predecessors to consume about five or six pages of the smallest print, without at last coming to any thing like a reasonable explanation. Iago says of Cassio— ':

One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,

A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife,

That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster.

Now there is nothing in the whole play about Cassio's wife, and the commentators cannot discover who is meant. Some Some say Bianca; others, Desdemona; others alter the text,-but nothing satisfactory is made out. Here, reader, by means of a parenthesis, and supposing in the rapidity of his thoughts that Iago expresses himself elliptically, I think we shall get the true reading, and free poor Cassio from the incumbrance of a wife.

"One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,

A fellow (almost damn'd in a fair wife,)
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster."

That is," a fellow that never set a squadron in the field (a circumstance, which, in the estimation of a soldier, almost throws contempt even upon a beautiful woman, is almost damn'd in a fair wife).” He then carries on the same idea, and adds, the division of a battle knows more than a spinster."

"nor

There is another passage in the same play, which hath afforded much food for conjecture; I mean the famous lines in the third scene of the third act: