furniture," constituted the only bequest to her. It is not known what particular malady terminated, at no very advanced age, the life and labours of this incomparable genius; but he died on the 23d of April, 1616, being the anniversary of his birth-day, when be exactly completed his fifty-second year. He was interred among his ancestors, on the north side of the chancel, in the great church of Stratford, and a handsome monument, bearing the following Latin distich, was erected to his memory:

Judicio Pylium, genio Socratem, arte Maronem,

Terra tegit, populus moret, Olympus habet.

On the grave-stone in the pavement are the following singular lines.
Good friend, for Jesus' sake, forbear

To dig the dust enclosed here:

Blest be the man that spares these stones,

And curst be he that moves my bones.

In the year 1741, another very noble and beautiful monument was raised to his memory, at the public expense, in Westminster Abbey, under the direction of the Earl of Burlington, Dr. Mead, Mr. Pope, and Mr. Martyn. It stands near the south door of the Abbey, in what is called Poets' Corner, and was the work of Scheemaker, after a design of Kent's. The performers of each of the London theatres gave a benefit to defray the expenses, and the Dean and Chapter took nothing for the ground.

Mrs. Shakspeare survived her husband eight years, dying in 1623, at the age of sixtyseven. Of Shakspeare's family, the son died in 1596; the eldest daughter, Susanna, married Dr. John Hall, a physician of Stratford, who is said to have obtained much reputation and practice. She brought her husband an only child, Elizabeth, who was married, first to Thomas Nashe, Esq. and afterwards to Sir John Barnard, of Abingdon, in Northamptonshire, but had no issue by either of them. The second daughter, Judith, married Thomas Quiney, a gentleman of good family, by whom she had three children; but as none of them reached their twentieth year, they left no posterity. Hence our poet's last descendant was Lady Barnard, who was buried at Abingdon, Feb. 17, 1669-70. Dr. Hall, her father, died Nov. 25, 1635, and her mother, July 14, 1649, and were both interred in Stratford church. Our poet's house and lands continued in the possession of his descendants to the time of the Restoration, when they were re-purchased by the Clopton family, the original proprietors. Sir Hugh Clopton, who was knighted by King George the First, died in 1751, and his executor sold the estate to a clergyman of large fortune, who resided in it but a few years, and in consequence of a disagreement with his neighhours respecting a parochial assessment, peevishly pulled down the house, sold the materials, and left the town. To defeat the curiosity of the numerous strangers who were led to visit this classic ground, he had some time before cut down the mulberry-tree, which Shakspeare is known to have planted, and had piled it as a stack of firewood, to the great vexation, loss, and disappointment, of the inhabitants of Stratford. But an honest silversmith bought the whole stack, and converted it into a number of toys and implements, which were eagerly purchased by the curious. The purpose to which one of these trifles was applied gave rise to an occurrence, harmless, and perhaps laudable in itself, though by many considered as verging on the mock-heroic. The corporation of Stratford having presented Garrick with the freedom of the town in a box made from the wood of the tree, this incident suggested to him the idea of a festival in commemoration of Shakspeare, upou the very spot where he was born; and the plan was carried into execution in the autumn of 1769. Temporary buildings were raised--entertainments suited to every taste were provided-and company of all ranks, from the most distant parts of the kingdom, assembled to celebrate the memory of the poet. The jubilee lasted three days; but the weather was exceedingly unfavourable, and the pleasure enjoyed was by no means equal to that which the enthusiastic admirers of Shakspeare had anticipated, though Garrick exerted all his talents to gratify both the eye and the understanding. He composed several songs for music, with an ode of considerable length to the honour of his hero; and having expended a large sum of money upon various parts of the entertainment, took a method of reimbursing himself, which gives a laughable finale to this overflow of enthusiasm the jubilee was converted into a dramatic representation, during the following winter, in London, and became so popular, that it was repeated night after night to the most crowded audiences.

The nature and extent of Shakspeare's biblical learning will form a necessary introduction to the review of his dramatic writings; especially as there is no question connected with his history, upon which more ingenious speculation has been hazarded. There has always prevailed a tradition that Shakspeare wanted learning, and Ben Jonson, who wrote at a time when the character and acquisitions of our poet were known to multi

tudes, affirms that he had small Latin, and less Greek. Dr. Farmer, in a curious essay upon this subject, has proved that his imaginary imitations from numerous old writers were derived from English books, to which he had easy access. It is surprising how much angry argument has been employed by such as are opposed to this opinion. Mr. Upton calls it the pride and pertness of dunces, whilst he very amusingly points out the skill with which Shakspeare has given "the trochaic-dimeter-brachy-catalectic, commonly called the ithyphallic measure," to the witches in Macbeth; and says that now and then a halting verse affords "a most beautiful instance of the pes proceleusmaticus!" Dr. Grey declares that Shakspeare's knowledge of Greek and Latin cannot reasonably be doubted; and another writer doubts whether Truepenny might not be derived from Touravov; quoting, at the same time, with much parade, an old scholiast on Aristoplanes. Indeed, plagiarisms have been discovered in every natural description and every moral sentiment; a business which may be effected with very little time or sagacity, as Addison has shewn in bis dissertation on Chevy Chase, and Wagstaff in his comment on Tom Thumb. To cite even a portion of the passages which Dr. Farmer has proved to be suggested by old chronicles, translations, or books of poetry, instead of being taken directly from writers in the dead languages, would be impossible; but one result of his inquiries may be adduced as a specimen of the whole. "Dr. Grey and Mr. Whalley assure us, that for the play of Hamlet, Shakspeare must have read Saxo Grammaticus in Latin, no translation having been made into any modern language. But the truth is, that he did not take it from Saxo at all; a novel, called the Historie of Hamblet, was his original; a fragment of which in black letter is now in my possession." Upon the same principle, Shakspeare's allusion to the darts of Cupid in A Midsummer Night's Dream, where he says that some are tipped with gold and others with lead, does not prove bis acquaintance with Ovid, any more than his allusions to Dido establish bis knowledge of Virgil. Gower, Chaucer, and Lydgate, had already sung the fate of the love-sick queen, and Marlowe had even introduced her on the stage; whilst Surrey, Sidney, and Spenser, had defined in their amatory sonnets every characteristic distinction in Cupid's arrows. The Comedy of Errors is taken from the only play of Plautus which was then in English; and unless those which were not translated were inaccessible to him, there is no single reason why, if he copied one, he should not have copied more. He probably had learnt sufficient Latin to make him acquainted with construction, though he never advanced to an easy perusal of the Roman authors. Concerning his skill in modern languages, as no imitations of French or Italian authors have been discovered, though Italian poetry was then in high esteem, it would seem that he read English only, and chose for his fables merely such tales as he found translated. Some Italian words and phrases appear, it is true, in his works, but they are not of his own importation. With these opinions, the reader will form his own decision upon the acquired learning of our poet; and with Drayton, the countryman and acquaintance of Shakspeare, will probably attribute bis excelience to "the naturall braine only."

As a first impression, it naturally excites surprise, that the dramatic writings of Shakspeare, productions so agreeable to the age that witnessed their birth, and distinguished by such unequivocal marks of popular approbation, were not more diffusely circulated from time to time through the medium of the press; or at all events secured, by the author himself, from the direct ravages of piracy or ignorance, the common accompaniments of successful genius. It is certain that Shakspeare did not himself print any one of his plays; nor was a collection of them published until 1623, seven years after his death, by Heninge and Condale, his former fellow-managers. From that period to 1664, an interval of forty-one years, only two editions were disposed of; the numerical amount of which did not probably exceed one thousand copies! Different commentators have assigned different reasons for this apparent retrocession of the national taste; but Mr. Chalmers has offered the most simple, and consequently the most satisfactory, solution of the circumstance, in a series of statements which it may be useful to lay before the reader, though necessarily in a condensed form. Shakspeare was the promoter of an amusement just emerging from barbarism, and one, moreover, which has ever had such a strong tendency to deviate from moral propriety, that the force of law has been in all ages necessary to preserve it within the bounds of common decency. The church, in particular, has at all times been unfriendly to the stage; and at this particular period, it required all the policy and circumspection of the court, to establish the reformed faith firmly in the affections of the people. To this important end the controversial efforts of the Puritans were greatly conducive, and nothing was more obnoxious to their tenets, than the toleration of dramatic amusements. Thus Elizabeth, and her successor, James, though privately disposed to patronize and foster the stage, as a pleasing addition to their courtly recreations, were yet under the necessity of loading it with some onerous restrictions, whilst the bishops themselves publicly committed to the flames all the poetry an i

novels which fell within their notice. Severe injunctions were issued against the printing of plays; nor were any allowed to be published, till revised and approved by persons in authority. In the temper and feeling of the times, this may be considered a virtual prohibition; and the publication of Shakspeare's works was therefore justly accounted a very doubtful speculation. For several years after his death, the public taste, ever dependent upon novelty, was strongly directed to the plays of Fletcher, and during the remainder of the seventeenth century, the noble productions of our poet gave place to a species of dramatic composition, equally conspicuous for its wit and its obscenity, and which the more chastened judgment of modern audiences bas driven with abhorrence from the stage. The works of his rival and contemporary Jonson, appear indeed to have passed through several editions, and to have been read with uncommon avidity, while those of our poet were doomed to comparative neglect; but this is chiefly attributable to the passion for classical literature and collegiate learning, which were then regarded the chief criteria of merit. Only fifty years after his death, Dryden affirms that he was become "a little obsolete; and Tate, in his dedication to the altered play of King Lear, speaks of the original as an obscure piece, recommended to his notice by a friend. In the beginning of the last century, Lord Shaftesbary complained of "his rude unpolished style, and his antiquated phrase and wit;" and it is certain, that for nearly a hundred years after his death,-partly owing to the rebellion, when the stage was totally abolished-partly from the licentions taste encouraged in the time of Charles II., which we have already alluded to-and partly from the incorrect state of his works, he was almost entirely neglected. When, moreover, in addition to these facts, it is recollected that bis works were published in a very unwieldy size-that the opportunities of attracting notice by advertisements were then very few-that the women had not applied to literature, nor was every house furnished with a closet of books-the limited sale of his works will cease to be a matter of surprise, and may fairly be attributed to the character and predominant occupations of the times which immediately followed his decease. Further examination will equally explain another apparent singularity, and also refute the supposition that Shakspeare was himself insensible of the value of his works, or careless of any reward beyond present popularity and present profit. He wrote them for a particular theatre, sold them to the managers when only an actor, reserved them in manuscript when himself a manager, and on disposing of his property in the theatre, they were still preserved in manuscript, to prevent their being acted by the rival houses. Copies of some of them appear to have been surreptitiously obtained, and published in a very incorrect state; but the managers were wise enough to overlook this fraud, rather than publish a correct edition, and so destroy the exclusive property they enjoyed. It is clear, therefore, on the one hand, that any publication of his plays by himself, would have interfered at first with his own interest, and afterwards with that of his fellow-managers, to whom he had made over his share in them; and on the other, that though the fame which he enjoyed was probably the highest which dramatic genius could bestow, yet that dramatic genius was novel and unappreciated, or perhaps, not heard of beyond the limits of the metropolis. It is, indeed, very doubtful whether he would have gained much by publication, whilst the refinements of criticism were so little understood, and the sympathies of taste so inadequately felt.

In 1709 an edition was undertaken by Mr. Nicholas Rowe, which had nothing to recommend it but some biographical particulars of Shakspeare, communicated by Betterton, the celebrated comedian, who had been at the trouble of a journey into Warwickshire purposely to obtain them. Nearly all the faults of the first edition were perpetuated in this; and according to Dr. Warburton, Mr. Rowe, though a wit, was so utterly unacquainted with the whole business of criticism, that he did not examine or consult the early copies of the work which he ventured to re-publish. But it is now very generally allowed, that he made a number of emendations which succeeding editors have received without acknowledgment. In 1725 Mr. Pope published his edition in 6 vols. 4to, and gave the first example of critical and emendatory notes. He collected the old copies, and restored many lines to their integrity; bis preface is equally celebrated for elegance of composition, and justness of remark; but, by a very compendious criticism, he rejected whatever he disliked, thinking more of amputation than of cure, and proving himself a better poet than dramatic critic. Every anomaly of language, and every expression at variance with the accepted phraseology of that day, was considered an error or corruption, and the text was altered, or amended, as it was called, at pleasure. By these fanciful deviations, the poet was so completely modernized, that had he "revisited the glimpses of the moon," he would scarcely have understood his own works. In 1733 Mr. Theobald ventured upon a similar task, giving to his work the imposing title of Shakspeare Restored. Dr. Johnson describes him as a man of narrow comprehension and small acquirements-restoring a stray comma, and then panegyrizing himself for the

achievement-as mean, petulant, and ostentatious, and indebted for a little reputation to the circumstance of his having Pope for an opponent. Sir Thomas Hanmer was the next who undertook to illustrate. Shakspeare: his work was published in 1744, in 6 vols. 4to. He is generally termed the "Oxford editor;" and, though eminently qualified by nature for such pursuits, is said to have adopted all the innovations of Pope, in addition to the capricious suggestions of his own taste. In 1747, Dr. Warburton, Bishop of Gloucester, published his edition in 8 vols. 8vo., and by an unbounded license in substituting his own chimerical conceits for the plain text of his author, subjected himself to the imputation of wishing rather to display his own learning, than to illustrate the obscurities of the poet. It has been said, indeed, of this celebrated critic, that he erected his throne on a heap of stones, that he might have them at hand to throw at the heads of all who passed by; but though his interpretations are sometimes perverse, and his conjectures improbable-though he occasionally discovers absurdities where the sense is plain, or dwells upon profundity of meaning which the author never contemplated, yet bis emendations are frequently happy, and his commentaries learned and ingenious. In 1765, that distinguished moralist, scholar, and critic, Dr. Samuel Johnson, published these plays with additional criticisms, accompanying them with a preface, which is considered a perfect specimen of his own extraordinary genius, and in which, also, the respective merits of all the abovenamed editors are characterized with great candour, and with singular fertility of expression. It is said, that he has commented on the writings of Shakspeare with a severity far removed from accuracy and justice, and that he did not fully understand the varied merits of his author. But Mr. Malone, in the very intelligent and amusing preface to his edition of our poet, published in 1790, vindicates the Doctor's happy and just refutation of Mr. Theobald and Warburton's false glosses, and asserts that his vigorous and comprehensive understanding threw more light on the involved and difficult passages of many plays, than the united labour of all his predecessors had been able to do. In the edition of 1803, published by Mr. Steevens, (in 21 vols. 8vo. commonly called Johnson and Steevens's Shakspeare, and justly esteemed the best,) all Mr. Malone's original notes and improvements are incorporated. From 1716 to 1790, a period of seventy-four years, thirty thousand copies of Shakspeare were circulated in England; and since that time, the number has at least been doubled. Some of them issued under the auspices of able and accomplished scholars, particularly the edition of 1805, 10 vols. 8vo. by Alexander Chalmers, F.S.A.; which is distinguished by a sketch of the life of Shakspeare, founded upon the statements of Rowe, with the additional and corrective remarks of Malone and Steevens. The generality, however, are mere reprints, with various degrees of typographical embellishments, and in almost every size and shape; but the magnificent copy published some time since by the Messrs. Boydell, in large folio, enriched with the most sumptuous engravings, is justly considered as one of the finest specimens of art ever produced in this, or in any other country.

Nothing is more difficult, in estimating the real merits of a popular writer, than to "season the admiration" by judicious rules. These can only be learnt from the opinions of such as have made it their particular business to investigate the pretensions of authors, and to define the boundaries of taste by the best examples which learning and experience supply. Some useful information, applicable to this purpose, may be gained from the following analysis, exhibiting the most formidable objections that have been urged against Shakspeare's dramas, in conjunction with the principal merits by which they are said to be distinguished.

Voltaire, after allowing that Shakspeare, besides possessing a strong fruitful genius, was natural and sublime, decides that he had not one spark of good taste, nor a single dramatic rule, and that his great merit has been the ruin of the English stage. "There are (says he) such noble, such beautiful, such dreadful scenes in this writer's monstrous verses, to which the name of tragedy is given, that they have always been exhibited with great success. Time, which only gives reputation to writers, at last makes their very faults venerable. Most of the whimsical gigantic images of this poet, have, through length of time, acquired a right of passing for sublime. In Othello, a most tender piece, a man strangles his wife upon the stage, and though the poor woman is strangling, she cries out aloud that she dies very unjustly. In Hamlet, the two grave-diggers are drunk, singing ballads, and making humorous reflections on the skulls which they throw up. The players have not even struck out the buffoonery of the shoemakers and cobblers, who are introduced (in Julius Cæsar) in the same scene with Brutus and Cassius."

These, says Dr. Johnson, are the petty cavils of petty minds. Shakspeare's plays are not, in the rigorous and critical sense, either tragedies or comedies, but compositions of a distinct kind, exhibiting the mingled good and evil, joy and sorrow, inseparable from this sublunary state. That this is a practice contrary to ancient dramatic rules, will be readily allowed; but there is always an appeal open from criticism to nature. The end of writing

is to instract; the end of poetry, to instruct by pleasing; and there is no reason why the mingled drama should not convey all the pleasure and instruction of which tragedy or comedy, in their simple form, are capable of doing. The English nation, in the time of Shakspeare, was yet struggling to emerge from barbarity. The philology of Italy had been transplanted hither in the reign of Henry VIII., and the learned languages had been successfully cultivated by Liffy, Linacre, and More; by Pole, Cheke, and Gardiner; and afterwards by Smith, Clerk, Haddon, and Ascham. Greek was taught in the public schools, and many of the Italian and Spanish poets were read with great diligence. But these advantages were confined to distinguished rank, whilst the public at large was still gross and dark. Plebeian learning was confined to giants, dragons, and enchantments; and the sober representations of common life would not have been tolerated by a nation which delighted in the wonders of fiction, in the exploits of Palmerin, and the feats of Guy of Warwick. Writing for such audiences as these, Shakspeare was compelled to look around for strange events and fabulous transactions; and that incredibility by which maturer knowledge is offended, was the chief recommendation of his writings to unskilful eariosity. Such, indeed, is the power of the marvellous, even over those who despise it, that every man finds his mind more strongly seized by the tragedies of Shakspeare than of any other writer; and be has, perhaps, excelled all but Homer, in the leading qualifications of a writer, by the power of exciting a restless and unquenchable curiosity. The necessity of observing the unities of time and place, arises from the supposed necessity of making the drama credible; but it will be found that the slavish adherence to these principles, which Voltaire and others so rigidly enforce, gives much more trouble to the poet, than pleasure to the audience. It is faise that any representation is mistaken for reality; for if a spectator can once be persuaded that his old acquaintance are, Alexander and Cæsar, that a room illuminated with candles is the plain of Pharsalia, he is in a state of elevation beyond the reach of truth, and there is no reason why, in such a state of ecstasy, he should count the clock, or consider minutes and hours, as any other than days and years. Whether, therefore, Shakspeare knew the unities, and rejected them by design, or deviated from them by happy ignorance, it is impossible to decide, and useless to inquire; since they are not essential to a just drama, and though sometimes conducive to pleasure, may always be sacrificed to the nobler beauties of variety and instruction.

Mr. Rowe's was the first editorial commentary on the plays of Shakspeare, and notwithstanding bis alleged incapacity for criticism, the prominent beauties of our poet are judiciously and not inelegantly pointed out. Like other critics, he praises the fertility of his invention the historieal fidelity of his characters-the stateliness of his diction-the power of his muse in creating terror, or exciting mirth-and the perfection of his writings at a time of almost universal license and ignorance, where there was not one play in existence of sufficient merit to be acted at the present day.

With an ardour, an eloquence, and a discrimination, suited to his highly-gifted mind, and becoming the liberality of his poetical character, Mr. Pope enlarges on the characteristic excellences of our immortal bard. He considers him more original even than Homer; since the art of the latter proceeded through Egyptian strainers, and came to him not without some tincture of the learning of those that preceded him. In the power of the passions, he declares him to be no less admirable, than in the coolness of reflection and reasoning; and (as though he had been acquainted with the world by intuition) that his sentiments are the most pertinent and judicious, even on those great and public scenes, of which he could have had no experience. One cause of Shakspeare's peculiarities was the profession to which he belonged. Players are just judges of what is right, as tailors are of what is graceful. Living by the majority, they know no rule but that of pleasing the present hamour, and complying with the wit in fashion. Our author first formed himself upon the opinions of this class of men; and consequently his faults are less to be ascribed to his wrong judgment as a poet, than to his right judgment as a player.

Mr. Theobald, in the midst of many compliments to his own acuteness, and much irreverent abuse of Pope, whose wit (he says) is as thick as Tewkesbury mustard, thos penegyrizes Shakspeare: "Whether we respect the force and greatness of his genius, the extent of his knowledge and reading, the power and address with which he throws out and applies either nature or learning, there is ample scope both for our wonder and pleasure."

Sir Thomas Hanmer commends the rich vein of sense which runs through the entire works of Shakspeare; and declares him unequalled in the two great branches of dramatic poetry, by the best writers of any age or country.

Dr. Warburton, in a paper replete with brilliant wit and energetic argument, thus speaks of the productions of Shakspeare: "Of all the literary exercitations of speculative wen, whether designed for the use or entertainment of the world, there are none of so