The origin of this sentiment, at least so far as Shakespeare's expression of it is concerned, seems to have been in Dante's 'Convito,' which had not been translated into English when 'Hamlet' was re-written in 1604. It may be interesting to compare the two poets on this fine point of the moral

law:

From the Convito':

"Now, the man is stained with some passion, which he cannot always resist; now, he is blemished by some fault of limb; now, he is soiled by the ill-fame of his parents, or of some near relation; things which Fame does not bear with her, but which hang to the man, so that he reveals them by his conversation; and these spots cast some shadow upon the brightness of goodness so that they cause it to appear less bright and less excellent." Translated by ELIZABETH PRICE SAYER.

Bacon contends that the shrivelling of human bodies in old age, or under the action of heat, is due to the loss of spirit. King John feels this loss, just before his death, in his own body, and compares his condition, almost in Bacon's prose language, with that of parchment before a fire.1

1 Mr. Donnelly calls attention to this parallelism in the First Part of his 'Great Cryptogram,' p. 371. We take this occasion to say that in our judg ment he has given in this part the best popular presentation of the argument for Bacon thus far produced. The intimation of his belief that Bacon wrote Montaigne's Essays is, of course, to be regretted.

Which vulgar scandal stamp'd violence to be offered to me,

""Tis better to be vile than vile objected to envy, or my life to a

For an explanation of these remarkable parallelisms see 'Francis Bacon Our Shake-speare,' p. 27.

Here is a double confession, that the pursuits of a whole lifetime had been disappointing, and that, too, from the same cause; namely, preoccupation of mind.

My love looks fresh, and Death to

me subscribes,

Since, spite of him, I'll live in this

poor rhyme,

While he insults o'er dull and

speechless tribes."

Sonnet 107 (1609).

It is evident that these two passages deal with the same events; namely, the death of Queen Elizabeth, who was commonly called Cynthia, or "mortal moon," by the rhymesters of her time; the peaceful succession of James to the vacant throne in spite of the author's "fears" and the prophecies of all to the contrary; and the release of Southampton from the tower. The latter person is claimed by the poet as his "true love," and by Bacon as one whom he still "loved truly."

When the danger of a struggle for the crown was past, Bacon described the sensation as like that of waking from a fearful dream. The fears, expressed in the first line of the sonnet (quoted above), had been felt by him long before the sonnet was written; for he clearly foresaw that the rising spirit of independence in the House of Commons would eventually lead to an armed conflict over the royal prerogative.2

1 The use of the word "endured" in the line

"The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd,"

does not militate against this construction. The word sometimes means simply to suffer without resistance, as in 'Macbeth,'

v. 5, 36.

"Let me endure your wrath, if 't be not so.' Queen Elizabeth had no wish to prolong her life. She persistently refused on her death-bed to take any remedies, or even nourishment, for the purpose.

2 "It had been generally dispersed abroad that after Queen Elizabeth's decease there must follow in England nothing but confusions, interreigns and perturbations of estate; likely far to exceed the ancient calamities of the civil wars between the houses of Lancaster and York. . . . Neither wanted there here within this realm divers persons, both wise and well-affected, who, though they doubted not of the undoubted right, yet setting before themselves the waves of people's hearts, were not without fear what might be the event." - Bacon's History of Great Britain.

Bacon and Southampton had been in early life very intimate friends. They were fellow-lodgers at Gray's Inn, and fellow-supporters of the Earl of Essex. But in or about 1600 they became, outwardly at least, estranged, Southampton following Essex in his mad career, and Bacon siding with the government. There is reason to believe, however, says Mr. Spedding, that Bacon did all he could to save Southampton in that unhappy affair, mentioning his name in the Declaration concerning it "as slightly as it was possible to do without misrepresenting the case in one of its most material features;"1 and, also, using his private influence with the Queen after the trial to mitigate her displeasure. That there was danger in an open avowal of sympathy with Southampton at this time appears from a letter written by Cecil to Sir G. Carew in which he says: "those that would deal for him (of which number I protest to God I am one as far as I dare) are much disadvantaged."

Bacon's letter, of which we have quoted a part, was written on the eve of Southampton's release (1603), and is as follows:

"It may please your Lordship:

"I would have been very glad to have presented my humble service to your Lordship by my attendance, if I could have foreseen that it should not have been unpleasing to you. And therefore, because I would commit no error, I choose to write; assuring your Lordship (how credible [incredible] soever it may seem to you at first) yet it is as true as a thing that God knoweth, that this great change [death of Elizabeth] hath wrought in me no other change towards your Lordship than this, that I may safely be now that which I was truly before. And so, craving no other pardon than for troubling you with this letter, I do not now begin, but continue to be,

"Your Lordship's humble and much devoted." Shake-speare had the same loving attachment to the Earl of Southampton in the first part of the decade 1590-1600. 1 Spedding's Life and Letters of Francis Bacon, iii. 75.