Far more than cost; since all that he hath writ Æt. 53, die 23 Apri." And on his grave-stone underneath, is inscribed "Good friend, for Jesus' sake, forbear To dig the dust inclosed here. Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones." The tomb at Stratford is not the only monumental tribute that has been raised to the honor of Shakspeare. A cenotaph was subsequently erected to his memory in Westminster Abbey, by the direction of the Earl of Burlington, Pope, Dr. Mead, and Mr. Martyn. This monument, which cost three hundred pounds, was the work of Scheemaker, after a design by Kent, and was opened in January, 1741, one hundred and twenty-five years after the death of our author. The dean and chapter of Westminster gave the ground, and the expenses of the statuary were defrayed by a benefit at each of the London theatres. The receipts of Drury Lane exceeded two hundred pounds; at Covent Garden they did not amount to more than half that sum. Of the genius of Shakspeare it were in this place superfluous to write that task has been performed by others; and is sufficiently discussed in the discourses of Rowe, and Pope, and Johnson; but of his disposition and moral character, it may not be uninteresting to give the following passage from Dr. Drake-"To these tradition has ever borne the most uniform and favorable testimony. And, indeed, had she been silent on the subject, his own works would have whispered to us the truth; would have told us, in almost every page, of the gentleness, the benevolence, and the goodness, of his heart. For, though no one has exceeded him in painting the stronger passions of the human breast, it is evident that he delighted most in the expression of loveliness and simplicity, and was ever willing to descend from the loftiest soarings of imagination, to sport with innocence and beauty. Though the world of spirits and of nature,' says the admirable Schlegel, 'had laid all their treasures at his feet: in strength a demi-god, in profundity of view a prophet, in all-seeing wisdom a protecting spirit of a higher order, he yet lowered himself to mortals, as if unconscious of his superiority, and was as open and unassuming as a child.' "That a temper of 'this description, and combined with such talents, should be the object of sincere and ardent friendship, can excite no surprise. 'I loved the man,' says Jonson, with a noble burst of enthusiasm, and do honor his memory on this side idolatry, as much as any. He was, indeed, honest; and of an open and free nature;' and Rowe, repeating the uncontradicted rumor of times past, has told us,that every one, who had a true taste of merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and esteem for him; adding, 'that his exceeding candor and goodnature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him.' "No greater proof, indeed, can be given of the felicity of his temper, and the sweetness of his manners, than that all who addressed him, seem to have uniformly connected his name with the epithets worthy, gentle, or beloved; nor was he backward in returning this esteem, many of his sonnets indicating the warmth with which he cherished the remembrance of his friends. Thus the thirtieth opens with the following pensive retrospect: When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh - For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.' "And in the thirty-first, he tenderly exclaims 'How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, "Another very fascinating feature in the character of Shakspeare, was the almost constant cheerfulness and serenity of his mind he was 'verie good company,' says Aubrey, and of a very ready, and pleasant, and smooth witt.' In this, as Mr. Godwin has justly observed, he bore a striking resem blance to Chaucer, who was remarkable for the placidity and cheerfulness of his disposition; nor can there, probably, be a surer indication of that peace and sunshine of the soul which surpasses all other gifts, than this habitual tone of mind. "That Shakspeare was entitled to its possession from his moral virtues, we have already seen; and that, in a religious point of view, he had a claim to the enjoyment, the numerous passages in his works, which breathe a spirit of pious gratitude and devotional rapture, will sufficiently declare. In fact, upon the topic of religious, as upon that of ethic wisdom, no profane poet can furnish us with a greater number of just and luminous aphorisms; passages which dwell upon the heart, and reach the soul; for they have issued from lips of fire, from conceptions worthy of a superior nature, from. feelings solemn and unearthly." Of the descendants of Shakspeare there is not one remaining. Hammet, his only son, died in childhood. His eldest daughter, Mrs. Hall, survived her father upwards of thirty years; and if the inscription on her tomb present us with a fair estimate of her talents and her virtues, she was the worthy child of Shakspeare. She left one daughter only, who is mentioned in our poet's will, as his "niece Elizabeth.” This lady was twice married; to Thomas Nashe, Esq., and afterwards to Sir John Barnard, of Abington, near Northampton, but had no issue by either husband. Judith, the other daughter of our poet, was the mother of several children; of which the eldest, with an honest pride in that maiden name, which her father's genius had rendered illustrious, was christened Shakspeare; but none of her offspring arrived at years of maturity. It must strike every one as extraordinary, that the writings of a poet so distinguished should have been handed down to us in so corrupt and imperfect a state; and that so little should be known with any degree of certainty respecting the author of them. Shakspeare himself appears to have been entirely careless of literary fame. In his carly works he was sufficiently cautious in superintending their progress through the press; and the Venus and Adonis, the Rape of Lucrece, and the Titus Andronicus, were presented to the public with as much typographical accuracy as any volumes of the time. He was at first not indifferent to celebrity as an author; but it was a mere youthful vanity, and having attained the object of his ambition, and perceived its worthlessness, he afterwards only considered his genius and his improved skill in composition as the means of acquiring independence for his family, and securing an early retirement from the anxieties of public life. He wrote only for the theatre; his purpose was answered, if his pieces were successful on the stage; and he was perfectly careless of the manner in which his most splendid productions were disfigured in surreptitious and defective editions, and his most exquisite passages rendered ridiculous by the blunders of ignorant transcribers. The plays that were printed in his life-time, with the exception of Titus Andronicus, had all issued from the press under circumstances the most injurious to the reputation of their author, without his revision or superintendence, and perhaps without his consent or knowledge; and when, eight years years after his death, Heminge and Condell undertook the collection and publication of his works, it is scarcely possible that the MSS. from which the edition was printed, could have been the genuine MSS. of Shakspeare. Those had most probably perished in the fire that destroyed the Globe Theatre in 1613; and the first folio was made up from the playhouse copies, and deformed by all the omissions and the additions which had been adopted to suit the imperfections or the caprice of the several performers. If Shakspeare still appears to us the first of poets, it is in spite of every possible disadvantage, to which his owu sublime contempt of applause had exposed his fame, from the ignorance, the negligence, the avarice, or the officiousness of his early editors. To these causes it is to be ascribed that the writings of Shakspeare have come down to us in a state more imperfect than those of any other author of his time, and requiring every exertion of critical skill to illustrate and amend them. That so little should be known with certainty of the history of his life, was the natural consequence of the events which immediately followed his dissolution. It is true, that the · age in which he flourished was little curious about the lives of literary men: but our ignorance will not wholly be attributed to the want of curiosity in the immediate successors of the poet. The public mind soon became violently agitated in the conflict of opposite opinions. Every individual was called upon to take his stand as the partisan of a religious or political faction. Each was too intimately occupied with his personal interest to find leisure for so peaceful a pursuit as tracing the biography of a poet. If this was the case during the time of civil commotion, under the puritanical dynasty of Cromwell the stage was totally destroyed; and the life of a dramatic author, however eminent his merits, would not only have been considered as a subject undeserving of inquiry, but only worthy of contempt and abomination. The genius of Shakspeare was dear to Milton and Dryden; to a few lofty minds and gifted spirits; but it was'dead to the multitude of his countrymen, who, in their foolish bigotry, would have considered their very houses as polluted, if they had retained a copy of his works. After the Restoration, these severe restrictions were relaxed, and, as is universally the case, the counteraction was correspondent to the action. The nation suddenly exchanged the rigid austerity of Puritanism for the extreme of profligacy and licentiousWhen the drama was revived, it existed no longer to inculcate such lessons of morality as were enforced by the contrition of Macbeth, the purity of Isabel, or the suffering constancy of Imogen; but to teach modesty to blush at its own innocence, to corrupt the heart by pictures of debauchery, and to exalt a gay selfishness and daring sensuality above all that is noble in principle and honorable in action. At this period Shakspeare was forgotten. He wrote not for such profligate times. His sentiments would have been met by no correspondent feelings in the breasts of such audiences as were then collected within the walls of the metropolitan theatres, who came to hear their vices flattered; and of women masked, ashamed to show their faces at representations which they were sufficiently abandoned to delight in. The jesting, lying, bold intriguing rake, whom Shakspeare ness. |