levelled by an irritated poetaster at some other and later Lucy. It was contrary to Shakespeare's whole nature to write epigrams or lampoons against any one. The epithet "gentle" has been indissolubly united with his name. He was full of a gracious benignity. He gave wilful offence to no man. He had, assuredly, no unpleasant reminiscence of any incident in his own life connected with the " poor sequestered stag" when he penned that exquisite description of the wounded deer that came to languish "Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;" or when he made the Duke say, in the Forest of Ardennes, "Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,— It may be--although of this there is no substantial evidence that some youthful adventure, prompted by no ignoble motive, but by the simple love of adventure, in which Shakespeare did not keep altogether on the windy side of the law, was one of the causes which led to his leaving Stratford. The truth, however, more probably is, that the hour had arrived when his expanding mind began to aspire after greater things than the narrow sphere of a small provincial town,-when he felt the "wild pulsation" which genius so often feels before the tumult of life begins,― "Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield, Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field, And at night, along the dusky highway, near and nearer drawn, Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn; And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then, Underneath the light he looks at, in among the throngs of men." So he bade farewell, doubtless with a throbbing heart, and not without some "natural tears," to Anne Hathaway, Susannah, Hamnet, and Judith, making such arrangements for their comfort as his means afforded; and, with the dauntless resolution of the soldier who is ever ready to exclaim,— 66 Why, then, the world's mine oyster, he turned his back upon the humble houses of Stratford, and all the scenes of his earlier days, and plunged with a vague hope into the great Babel "among the throngs of men," as so many thousands and thousands of youthful pilgrims have done from generation to generation. Whether he had any direct and immediate intention of going upon the stage cannot now be known. His first poetical pieces did not take a dramatic shape, but were rather didactic and lyrical; and there was no occasion to go to London to write them. Old Aubrey, however, saw no mystery in the matter. He simply says,-"This William, being inclined naturally to poetry and acting, came to London." Whatever was the inducing cause, he became an actor; and continued in that profession for eighteen or twenty years-namely, from 1586 to 1606, or thereby. It is at the same time very certain that he always made his profession secondary to his literary labours; and it would also appear that there were moments when he regretted he had ever condescended to tread the boards. In his 91st Sonnet he touchingly says,— "O, for my sake, do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means, which public manners breeds. And almost then my nature is subdued And again, in the 110th Sonnet, — "Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view." But this was not the normal state of Shakespeare's cheerful and unselfish mind. After alluding, in the 29th Sonnet, to his occasional despondency, when he fancies himself "in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes," he finely reverts at the close to the consolation derived from the assured affection of the friend to whom it is addressed,— "Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state,— Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth,—sings hymns at heaven's gate, For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings." - Shakespeare never attained the reputation of a great actor; but he was a good and favourite one. Aubrey says of him, "He did act exceedingly well." It is on record that two of his parts were, the Ghost in his own "Hamlet," and Adam in "As You Like It, the first of which affords scope for great elocutionary powers, and the latter for the delineation of some fine points of character. It is also handed down that he occasionally appeared in some of the kingly parts in his own historical plays, -being, no doubt, well adapted for such parts by his graceful and manly bearing. Queen Elizabeth and James, who were both fond of theatrical entertainments, must frequently have seen him act; and Ben Jonson no doubt alludes to their estimation of him, both as an actor and a writer, in the wellknown lines, "Sweet swan of Avon! what a sight it were To see thee on our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames Whatever his powers as an actor were, one thing is clear, that no man ever understood better the correct theory of acting, or had a profounder appreciation of what constitute its defects and its excel lences; witness Hamlet's address to the players, and other passages, full of the soundest precepts and most correct practical rules. It is provoking that we are here obliged to notice another idle and trumpery legend about Shakespeare, to which Dr. Samuel Johnson seems to have given credence, namely, that he supported himself, on first going to London, by holding the horses of those who rode to the play. The great lexicographer's version of this fiction, which he says came from Mr. Pope, is as follows: :- "In the time of Elizabeth, coaches being yet uncommon, and hired coaches not at all in use, those who were too proud, too tender, or too idle to walk, went on horseback to any distant business or diversion. Many came on horseback to the play, and when Shakespeare fled to London from the terror of a criminal prosecution, his first expedient was to wait at the door of the playhouse, and hold the horses of those who had no servants, that they might be ready again after the performance. In this office he became so conspicuous for his care and readiness that in a short time every man, as he alighted, called for Will Shakespeare, and scarcely any other waiter was trusted with a horse while Will Shakespeare could be had. This was the first dawn of better fortune. Shakespeare finding more horses put into his hand than he could hold, hired boys to wait under his inspection, who, when Will Shakespeare was summoned, were immediately to present themselves, I am Shakespeare's boy, sir." This is a piece of transpar |