at once the simple explanation of this fact. The new direction had no other more powerful attraction than its morelty: it was akin to the irresistible tendency of the modern spirit for reflection and criticism-to self-conscious knowledge and activity: it had entered already upon that negative and analytical career which reached its height in the eighteenth century, but which had been entered upon at least a century earlier in England.* It was, therefore, naturally adopted, and befriended by the spirit of the age, to which, on its part, it lent a hand and support.

It was not their rare poetical merits-the poetical wantonness of a Fletcher, the boldness and ease of his sketches, his sharp decisive touches of character, his wonderful fertility of invention, the elegance and lightness of his diction, his treasures of wit—or the ravishing rhetoric, and occasionally truly tragic energy of a Massinger, that gained them the victory; for all these Shakspeare possessed in an equal, if not higher degree. But they owed their popularity even to the unpoetical element of their compositions, to the decided, every where apparent intentionality, the definite consciousness of their artistic plans, the striving after effect by unusual characters, singular situations, and attractive turns, the acute reflections, and the endeavour to instruct by the employment of general principles and maxims,†—to the critical and satirical tone of their wit, combined with the unblushing openness with which they exhibited the motives of a mean and materialistic mode of thought and action, not merely for inspection, but for approval, as a perfectly just and true worldly wisdom.‡ Lastly, they owed it to the predominance of intrigues, overdrawing of characters even to caricature, and the reduction of living personalities into some abstract philosophical notions; so that, virtues instead of the virtuous, and vices instead of the vicious, are

* Was not this tendency the ultimate root of the Puritanical revolution under Cromwell?

† Almost every piece has some trite moral appended to it. See, for instance, the close of Fletcher's "Spanish Friar," Massinger's "City Madam," as well as his "New Way to Pay Old Debts," &c.

How often, for instance, is it set forth as right and justifiable to marry for money or rank-to make riches the first object, and to make cuckolds of all hatetul old disagreeable husbands, &c. &c.

represented.* All these peculiarities were in perfect harmony with the spirit of modern times, and acquired for them universal favour; whereas the want of a truly poetic view of things in general, and the defects of composition,† which are the fault of all alike, were then, as ever, overlooked by the public.

This important revolution in the poetical taste and feeling of the public, did not, as we have already said, make itself noticeable until towards the close of Shakspeare's life. Jonson, at his first appearance, did not make a favourable impression. The favour with which the representations of the chapel-boys were received was not attributable to him alone, and was besides confined to the more cultivated and noble classes, of whom again but few perhaps were decided favourers of the new direction of art; at least, in the diary-apparently of some lawyer-which was discovered a few years back, there is this entry under February, 1602: "Ben Jonson now lives on one Townsend (one of his friends and admirers), and scorns the whole world." (Collier, i. 33.)

Even though there may be in this statement a great exaggeration, it is nevertheless certain, that between the "Poetaster" and the "Sejanus," (1603), Jonson wrote nothing for the stage; and it is therefore probable, that, dissatisfied with his unsuccessful attempt to throw discredit on the popular theatre, he had retired in disgust from writing. The applause which he met with must have been partial and momentary; and to this fact the above entry in the diary apparently alludes. It was left to Fletcher, Beaumont,

* Lopez, for instance, and Diego, in Fletcher's " Spanish Friar," are perfect caricatures. So, also, are the younger Novall, Liladam, and Aymer, in the "Fatal Dowry" of Massinger and Field. Egremont and Cossy, in Fletcher's "Elder Brother;" Greedy and Watchall, in Massinger's " New Way," &c. In fact, all the other leading characters in the above-named pieces, as also in Massinger's "Duke of Milan," and "The City Madam," are diluted into mere general ideas.

In the "Duke of Milan," for instance, it is not till the fifth act that we discover the real motives of Francisco's conduct; and, consequently, the main spring of the action. And in the first half of Fletcher's "Elder Brother," the action drags heavily, as it does also through the whole of Massinger's "New Way to Pay Old Debts."

The passage in "Hamlet,"-" but there is, sir, an aiery of children, little eyasses," &c., is referred by Malone to the year 1612, because it is first found in the Folio of 1623, and wanting in the only Quarto edition which he knew of, 1603: and because Heywood, in his "Apology for Actors," 1612, complains of the

and Massinger, to finish gradually what he had but begun. The followers, accordingly, of the old and popular direction of art, did not suffer themselves to be misled by appearances. They took up the gage which was thrown down to them, with a full consciousness of their own right, and with the confidence of beati possessores. This is evident from the "Satiromastix," of Dekker, which appeared in 1602, as a defensive and offensive reply to Jonson's "Poetaster." The belief of some that Shakspeare contributed to this work is founded on mere conjecture.

The time when Ben Jonson first came decidedly forward with his opposition was no doubt the very middle of Shakspeare's poetic career-the meridian of his reputation and artistic labours. The morning of this noontide splendour are the years between 1592 and 1596 or 1597. During this interval were produced, with "Romeo and Juliet," and "All's well that ends well," the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," "Love's Labour's Lost," "Richard the Third," and "Richard the Second;" and besides them the epicolyrical poems of "Venus and Adonis," "The Rape of Lucrece," and several of the sonnets. In these pieces we see Shakspeare's poetical genius beginning to rise superior to his talent as a player: out of a certain youthful awkwardness, an overflowing fulness, a want of proportion, a certain ruggedness and reserve, which prevail even in the "Titus Andronicus," " Henry the Sixth," &c. &c., his creative fancy is swelling into a more regulated, well-rounded, less sharply and angularly drawn figures. We can trace his steps, as he is striving, almost painfully, after a well arranged and duly modelled composition; and we behold him better able to concentrate his powers, more reflective, and fast arriving at a clearer conception of the end and nature of his art; his language is gradually becoming more smooth and fluent; his wit is more ingenious, and flows more freely and gracefully, while the tragic

abuse lately crept in, of " committing to the mouths of children," &c. But in the later found quarto, which also was printed in the year 1603, but which gives this piece in an older form, such as it stood, perhaps, in 1600-1, there is also this mention of the children and their popularity. In the other quarto, therefore, Shakspeare may have suppressed the passage, because probably the fashionable rage for these children actors, and perhaps therewith the popularity with which Ben Jonson was first received, may have again subsided.

element is acquiring that indescribably beautiful tinge of elegiac, expiatory, and glorifying softness, (which distinguishes "Romeo and Juliet," and "Richard the Second,") without, however, losing anything in force or grandeur. The due measure and well-ordered beauty of these poems established his reputation even with the most educated of his countrymen; indeed, the "Venus and Adonis," and the "Rape of Lucrece," forced even the admirers of classical antiquity to acknowledge him as a great poetical genius. Thus, already in 1597 he was decidedly at the head of the old national school of poetry, surrounded by a youthful band of fertile and popular writers, such as Heywood, Dekker, Middleton, Samuel Rowley, Ford, and others. The talents of these writers were not, however, of the highest order, nor such as, without Shakspeare, would have enabled them to withstand the pressure of the new direction of art; nevertheless, a truly poetic spirit lived in them all, and some of their works must be regarded as successful compositions, and which, when irradiated by the sun of Shakspeare's renown, must have shone forth in still greater glory. Compositions like "Henry the Fourth, and Fifth," "Hamlet," "The Merchant of Venice," "The Midsummer Night's Dream," "As You Like it," "What you will," "The Merry Wives of Windsor," which, between the years 1597 and 1603,* followed close upon each other, must have made an indescribable impression on all unprejudiced minds. Most of these pieces, with an overflowing fulness of life and spirit, bear the impress of a still lingering youthfulness. The composition, invention, language, and characteristics, are completely Shakspearian; the comedies, especially "The Midsummer Night's Dream," "As You Like it," and "What you will," are full of a genial joyousness, swelling forth beneath a heavenly etherial atmosphere of life which the soul breathes and exhales at the highest summit of its existence; while "Henry the Fifth" exhibits all the grandeur of heroic prowess, and "Hamlet" the infinite depth of philosophical reflection. A pure and lofty inspiration pervades them all. We see, in short, the poet revelling in the exalting consciousness of his free and already successfully

The grounds for this assumption, as well as the above assertion as to the origin of "All's Well that Ends Well," will be found below in Section IV.

exerted creative genius, and in the blissful feeling, "Anch' io son pittore!"

How high Shakspeare's reputation and fame had risen at this date, may be judged of from his worldly circumstances. He was now become a man of some means, and his good fortune appears at a later date to have continued to increase. In 1597, he purchased New Place, one of the best houses in his native town, and had it improved and decorated; in 1598, he was solicited by a fellow-townsman for the loan of £30, and at the same time he showed himself not disinclined to advance a sum of money, on sufficient security, to the town. In 1602, he paid £320 for a considerable tract of land which he added to his possessions in Stratford, and in the following year £60 for a farm with two barns, a garden, granary, and other offices; in 1605 he farmed for £140 the great and small tithes in Stratford; and lastly, in 1613, he bought himself a house in Blackfriars for £140*. His receipts as stage poet, and sharer in the Globe and Blackfriars theatre, were for the times not inconsiderable. In the earlier years, from £5 to £10, latterly between £12 and £25, were paid for a new piece, or even the whole receipts of a single representation. The sum which these usually netted has been already stated. Of Blackfriars, we know for certain, from a document still extant, that in 1608 its yearly profits amounted to £666. This sum was divided into twenty shares, of which Shakspeare held four, Burbage four, Fletcher three, and so on; so that from this theatre alone Shakspeare received £133 for one year. If we reckon the receipts of the Globe at the same rate, and add to the amount the payment for two or three new pieces, we shall have for Shakspeare's general income £300; a sum which Collier makes equal to £1500 † of the present day. There is no ground for supposing that in earlier years (say from 1592-94), his income was much less. Shak

* All this is well established from letters, records, and documentary evidence. The deed of purchase of the farm, &c., has been lately found by Collier in the Bridgewater MSS. Collier, New Facts, &c. p. 29.

+ Shakspeare's property in the wardrobe and properties is in the same document valued at £500. For further particulars on all these points, see Collier, New Facts, &c., p. 22.