his life, and of his personal character and habits. He married young, went to London soon after his marriage, became an actor, a dramatic author, and a shareholder in one of the London theatres; acquired considerable property, and retired to his native place a few years before his death, and there lived in ease and honor. He was the author of thirty-five plays, (rejecting those of doubtful authenticity,) written between 1590 and 1613, besides poems and sonnets.

Shakspeare is pronounced by Mr. Hallam, who was a most conscientious critic and careful writer, to be the greatest name in all literature. It would, of course, be impossible, in the compass of a notice like this, to do anything like justice to the universality of his powers, his boundless fertility of invention, his dramatic judgment, his wit, humor, and pathos, his sharp observation, and his profound knowledge of the human heart. Nor is it easy to point out to the young reader, within a reasonable compass, the best sources of information and criticism; for the editions of Shakspeare are numberless, and the books that have been written about him would alone make a considerable library. The following works, however, may be read and consulted with profit: Drake's "Shakspeare and his Times," "Hazlitt's Lectures," Mrs. Jameson's "Characteristics of Women," Dr. Johnson's preface, Schlegel's "Lectures on Dramatic Literature," Coleridge's "Lectures on Shakspeare," the notes and introductory notices in Knight's pictorial edition, together with the biography prefixed, and, especially, the criticism upon Shakspeare contained in Hallam's Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and sev enteenth centuries.

Shakspeare's life and writings teach two lessons; which, as they are not very obvious to the apprehension of the young, and as they have a somewhat practical bearing upon life, may be here set down. He is an instance directly opposed to the Byronic notion that great genius and great unhappiness invariably go together. We have every reason to believe that his temperament was cheerful and joyous, and that is certainly the spirit of his writings. He is often tragic, but never morbid. In the next place, Shakspeare is a proof that the highest poetical genius is not inconsistent with practical and successful business habits. There can be no doubt that he was himself an excellent man of business, for he accumulated an ample fortune within a few years, and by occupations in which punctuality, economy, and method are particularly important.

The following scene is from "King John." Arthur, a young boy, is lawful heir to the crown of England, which has been usurped by his uncle, the king, who employs Hubert to put out his nephew's eyes.]

Prince ARTHUR, HUBERT, and ATTENDANTS.

Scene A room in the castle, Northampton.

Enter HUBERT and two ATTENDANTS.

HUBERT. Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand Within the arras: when I strike my foot

Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth,

*Tapestry, or hangings, for rooms.

And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,
Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.

1st ATTENDANT. I hope your warrant will bear out the
deed.

HUB. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you: look to 't.
[Exeunt Attendants.

5 Young lad come forth; I have to say with you.

10

Enter ARTHUR.

ARTHUR. Good morrow,

HUB.

Hubert.

Good morrow, little prince.
ARTH. As little prince, (having so great a title
To be more prince,) as may be. — You are sad.
HUB. Indeed, I have been merrier.

ARTH.
Mercy on me!
Methinks nobody should be sad but I:
Yet I remember when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
15 Only for wantonness. By my christendom,*
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be merry as the day is long;
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me:

20 He is afraid of me, and I of him:

Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son?
No indeed, is 't not; and I would to heaven,
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
HUB. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate

25 He will awake my mercy, which lies dead:

Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch.

[Aside

ARTH. Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day:

In sooth, I would you were a little sick, That I might sit all night, and watch with 30 I warrant, I love you more than you do me.

HUB. His words do take possession of

you:

my

bosom.

*Christening, baptism.

Read here, young Arthur.

[Showing a paper.

[Aside

How now foolish rheum!*
Turning dispiteous † torture out of door!
I must be brief; lest resolution drop
5 Out at my eyes, in tender womanish tears.
Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
ARTH. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect:
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
HUB. Young boy, I must.

And will you?

And I will.

ARTH. Have you the heart? When your head did bu

ache,

I knit my handkerchief about your brows,
(The best I had, a princess wrought it me,)

15 And I did never ask it you again:

head;

And with my hand at midnight held your
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheered up the heavy time;
Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief?
20 Or, What good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor man's son would have lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you:

But you at your sick service had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, 25 And call it, cunning: do, an if you will:

30

If Heaven be pleased that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes; that never did, nor never shall,

So much as frown on you?

HUB.

I have sworn to do it;

And with hot irons must I burn them out.

ARTH. Ah, none, but in this iron age would do it!

The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,

10

15

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench his fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
5 But for containing fire to harm mine eye.

Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron?
An if an angel should have come to me,

And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,

I would not have believed him. No tongue but Hubert's-
HUB. Come forth.

[Stamps. Re-enter Attendants, with cord, irons, &c.

Do as I bid you do.

ARTII. O, save mc, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out,
Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.

HUB. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
ARTH. Alas, what need you be so boist'rous-rough?

I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.

For Heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;

20 I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angerly;

25

30

Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.

HUB. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
1st ATTEND. I am best pleased to be from such a deed.
[Exeunt Attendants.
ARTH. Alas! I then have chid away my friend:

He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart:

Let him come back, that his compassion may

Give life to yours.

Нев.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

ARTH. Is there no remedy?

* This line has been read variously. We give it as it is printed in Charles Knight's pictorial edition. "Arthur begins a fresh sentence, which is interrupted by Hubert's stamping. He is about to say, 'Ne tongue but Hubert's would have made me believe it.""

HUB. None, but to lose your eyes.

ARTH. O heaven!-that there were but a mote in A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair,

Any annoyance in that precious sense!

5 Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous there, Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

yours,

HUB. Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue. ARTII. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes: 10 Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert! Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes: Though to no use, but still to look on you! Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, 15 And would not harm me.

Нсв.

I can heat it, boy.

ARTII. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief — Being create for comfort to be used

In undeserved extremes: Sce else yourself:

20 There is no malice in this burning coal;

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,

And strewed repentant ashes on his head.

HUB. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
ARTII. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
25 And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert;
Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes;
And, like a dog, that is compelled to fight,
Sratch at his master that doth tarre him on.

All things, that you should use to do me wrong, 20 Deny their office; only you do lack

That which fierce fire and iron extends,
mercy
Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.

HUB. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owes; †

* Urge or set him on.

† Owns.