Page images
PDF
EPUB

Again:

"Death shall not brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lives to time thou growest;
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

Again :

"Now, with the drops of this most balmy time,

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;
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,

When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent."

And, finally :

"The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Uncertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.”

Truly these passages, and various others like them, look a little like dreaming of fame; or rather, they look like clear visions into a land of which others are able only to dream! It is undoubtedly true, however, that Shakspeare did not spend his time in trying to convince himself and others, that he ought to be immortal. With a noble philosophy, as inimitable as it was unpretending, he simply took care to do his work, leaving the care of his fame with those to whom it properly belonged. Whether he fully appreciated the worth of his productions, may indeed be a question; but this question is not to be decided in the negative, on the simple fact, that he did not choose to prate and fret about it, and

surely his neglect of them may have sprung quite as legitimately from the quiet assurance, as from the silent despair of immortality. On the whole, this carefully revising of one's works, and correcting of the proofsheets for the press, and snugly embalming them up for posterity, evinces rather the intense desire than the conscious desert of immortality. That Shakspeare neglected to do all this, may be thought, by some, to prove that he knew his works had a principle of life in them, and therefore needed no embalmings of his to protect them from the tooth of time. Or rather, with his farreaching insight of nature, he could not well be ignorant, that it is equally impossible to get up an immortality where it is not deserved, and to keep it down where it is deserved; and that if it will not come of its own accord, it is quite useless attempting to force it, or to manufacture it.

To my mind there is something rather ignoble in the way of thinking which represents this divinest of mortals as toiling only for money and bread, altogether thoughtless and reckless of fame; however this may have been the case in his earlier years, before he became aware of his powers from seeing their effects, or had any proof of his genius, save, perhaps, the desire, which he was doubtless too wise to mistake for the

thing desired. When he came to know himself by his fruits (for this is what such men judge themselves by) then he was of course ambitious, as he ought to be, of doing what he had good reason to think himself able to do. The truth is, this notion, that I am opposing, looks too much like attempting to explain away the poet's more than virgin modesty into mere girlish bashfulness;

to sink the humility with which he wore his gifts and honours into unconsciousness of their existence. In a word, it is simply hiding from ourselves his goodness, by hiding from him his greatness; and accounting for a virtue seemingly impossible for us, by supposing an ignorance really impossible for him. Assuredly, Shakspeare was neither above nor below "the last infirmity of noble minds;" and those who live but to eat, and drink, and strut, and be rich, must not think to have him ranked in their category.

Such, then, are some of the confessions and unbosomings of Shakspeare simply as a man. I have dwelt on them the longer, because in his other works, he seems but a voice from the land of melody and beauty,

-a circumstance that hides from us the sweet humanity of this most human-hearted of men ;-and because we can better appreciate the ideal loveliness of his Mirandas, and Cordelias, and Imogenes, after sympathizing with the real loveliness of the mind from which they sprung. And besides, self-sufficing moralists, who think there can be no goodness but by embracing their doctrines and following their precepts, have so generally eschewed the society of genius, and consigned its fascinations to the service of Satan, that some not ignoble minds have been hugely tempted to eschew them for the society of those whom they have renounced. And, on the other hand, pride, choosing to be thought wicked rather than weak, has so often intrenched itself behind the examples of inferior genius, and tried to steal its reputation by aping its deformities, that even

ness. It seems but proper, every way, therefore, for us to know, that this king of poets and philosophers was also among the best of men; that, in his character, modesty and humility kept pace with greatness; and that he was as much better than the beau-ideals of our intellectual popinjays and dandiprats, as those beau-ideals were prouder than he. We cannot be too deeply impressed with the truth, that he who looks the highest will always bow the lowest; that true gentleness and lowliness of heart are inseparable accompaniments of exalted conceptions; and that the loftiest minds are those which most converse and sympathize with the heavens. From contemplating Shakspeare's character, I dare affirm that the highest moral as well as intellectual inspiration may be caught; and it is not well to push from our thoughts his goodness of heart to make room for his amazing greatness of mind.

"More sweet than odours caught by him who sails
Near spicy shores of Araby the blest,

A thousand times more exquisitely sweet,
The freight of holy feeling which we meet

In thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales

From fields where good men walk, or bowers wherein they

rest."

LECTURE II.

PERCEPTIVE POWERS CREATIVE POWERS-WIT AND HUMOUR-SENSIBILITY-ALLEGED IMMORALITY.

Or Shakspeare's life and character as a man, I finished what I had to say, in my last lecture. In this I shall attempt to speak more definitely of the combination of gifts which enabled him to produce his works. My reasons for doing so, doubtless obvious enough themselves, are these: The structure and method of Shakspeare's mind furnish, perhaps, the richest theme for psychological investigation in human history. He who fully comprehends the length, and breadth, and height, and depth of Shakspeare's endowments, has not much more to learn of the human mind. As the theme exhausts the whole science of human thought and feeling, so it is of course inexhaustible itself. The faculties, moreover, and the productions of such a mind, are mutually illustrative; a preconception of either will very much aid one in understanding the other: indeed, we must first enter into the method and working of an artist's mind, before we can do justice to his work, or his work can do justice to us.

The first thing, then, that meets us in studying Shakspeare's mind, is, his wonderful depth and clearness of vision. A most penetrating insight lies at the bottom of all his other gifts, and supports his whole intellectual

« PreviousContinue »