have reduced him to limit the exercise of his powers, and even in youth assume the slow and deliberate motion, which is the characteristic of old age. In his minor poems we, perhaps, trace the origin of this direction of his talents. It appears from two places in his Sonnets, that he was lamed by some accident. In the 37th sonnet he writes "So I made lame by Fortune's dearest spite," And, in the 89th, he again alludes to his infirmity, and says "Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt." This imperfection would necessarily have rendered him unfit to appear as the representative of any characters of youthful ardor, in which rapidity of movement or violence of exertion was demanded; and would oblige him to apply his powers to such parts as were compatible with his measured and impeded action. Malone has most inefficiently attempted to explain away the palpable meaning of the above lines; and adds, "If Shakspeare was in truth lame, he had it not in his power to halt occasionally for this or any other purpose. The defect must have been fixed and permanent." Not so. Surely, many an infirmity of the kind may be skilfully concealed; or only become visible in the moments of hurried movement. Either Sir Walter Scott or Lord Byron might, without any impropriety, have written the verses in question. They would have been applicable to either of them. Indeed the lameness of Lord Byron was exactly such as Shakspeare's might have been; and I remember as a boy, that he selected those speeches for declamation, which would not constrain him to the use of such exertions as might obtrude the defect of his person into notice. Shakspeare's extraordinary merits, both as an author and as an actor, did not fail of obtaining the fame and remuneration that they deserved. He was soon honored by the patronage of the young Lord Southampton, one of the most amiable and accomplished noblemen of the court of Elizabeth, and one of the earliest patrons of the national drama. To this distinguished person our author dedicated, "the first heir of his invention," the poem of Venus and Adonis, in 1593. This was within five years after Shakspeare arrived in London; and, in the following year, he inscribed the Rape of Lucrece to the same nobleman, in terms which prove that the barriers imposed by difference in condition had become gradually levelled, and that, between these young men, the cold and formal intercourse of the patron and client had been rapidly exchanged for the kinder familiarity of friendship. The first address is respectful; the second affectionate. When this intimacy began Shakspeare was in his twentyseventh, and Lord Southampton in his twentieth year; a time of life when the expansion of our kindness is not restrained by any of those apprehensions and suspicions which, in after life, impede the development of the affections; and when, in the enthusiastic admiration of excellence, we hasten to seek fellowship with it, and disregard every impediment to free communication which may be opposed by the artificial distinctions of society. The superiority of Shakspeare's genius raised him to a level with his friend. Lord Southampton allowed the gifts of Nature to claim equal privilege with the gifts of Fortune; and the splendid present of the thousand pounds which our great poet received from him, was bestowed and accepted in the true spirit of generosity; as coming from one, who was exercising to its noblest uses the power of his affluence, and received by one whose soul was large enough to contain the sense of obligation, without any mixture of petty shame, or any sacrifice of independence. The name of Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, should be dear to every Englishman, as the first patron the youthful friend-and author of the fortunes of Shak speare. 1 The authority for believing that this magnificent present was made which is equivalent to at least five thousand pounds at the present day — is the best that can be obtained respecting the events of our author's life; that of Sir William D'Avenant. "It was given," he says, "to complete a purchase." Malone doubts the extent of the earl's munificence- and what does he not doubt? He says, 66 no such purchase was ever made." This is a mere gratuitous assumption; for it is evident that Shakspeare had a very con siderable property in the two principal theatres, which must have been obtained by purchase, and could not have been obtained for an inconsiderable sum; nor by any means that our author could of himself have procured, by the most indefatigable exertions of his talents and economy. At a time when the most successful dramatic representation did not produce to its author so much as twenty pounds, and generally little more than ten; when, as an actor his salary would have amounted to a mere trifle; and when, as we have before seen, the circumstances of his father could not have aided him by any supplies from home, it is only by adopting D'Avenant's statement, and admitting the munificence of Lord Southampton, that we can account for the sudden prosperity of Shakspeare. "But," says Malone, "it is more likely that he presented the poet with a hundred pounds in return for his dedications." And this instance of liberality, which is so creditable to Shakspeare and his patron- to him who merited, and the high-spirited and noble youth who comprehended and rewarded his exalted merit-is to be discredited, because such an ardor of imagination does not square with the frigid views of probability entertained by the aged antiquarian in his closet! The fortunes of Shakspeare were indeed rapid in their rise: but he did not selfishly monopolize the emoluments of his success. On being driven from Stratford, he left, as we have seen, a father in reduced circumstances, and a wife and children who were to be supported by his labors. We may confidently assert, on a comparison of facts and dates, that the spirit of Shakspeare was not of a niggard and undiffusive kind. The source of his success is marked by the returning prosperity of his family. In 1578, his father was unable to pay, as a member of the corporation, his usual contribution of four-pence a-week to the poor; and in 1588, a distress was issued for the seizure of his goods, which his poverty rendered nugatory; for it was returned, "Johannes Shakspeare nihil habet unde distributio potest levari." Yet, from this state of poverty, we find him within ten years rising with the fortunes of his child; cheered and invigorated by the first dawning of his illustrious son's prosperity; and in 1590, applying at the Herald's Office for a renewal of his grant of arms, and described as a Justice of the Peace, and one possessing lands and tenements to the amount of £500. That this restoration of Mr. John Shakspeare's affairs originated in the filial piety of his son, appears evident, from our knowledge that the branch of traffic with which his circumstances in life were inseparably connected, was at that period in its most extreme state of depression. The kindness of Shakspeare was not restricted to his family; and the only letter which remains out of the many he must have received, is one from his townsman, Richard Quincy, requesting, in terms that speak him confident of success, the loan of thirty pounds, a sum in those days by no means inconsiderable. Pecuniary emolument and literary reputation were not the only reward that our poet received for his labors: the smiles of royalty itself shone upon him. "Queen Elizabeth," says Rowe, "Gave him many gracious marks of her favor; " and so delighted was she with the character of Falstaff, that she desired our author to continue it in another play, and exhibit him in love. To this command we owe The Merry Wives of Windsor. Dennis adds, that, from the Queen's eagerness to see it acted, "she commanded it to be finished in fourteen days, and was afterwards, as tradition tells us, very well pleased with the representation." If Queen Elizabeth was pleased to direct the course of our author's imagination, with her successor he was a distinguished favorite: and James the First, whose talents and judgment have deserved more respect than they have received, wrote him a letter with his own hand, which was long in the possession of Sir W. D'Avenant. Dr. Farmer supposes this letter to have been written in return for the compliment paid the monarch in Macbeth; but he has overlooked an equally probable occasion. The Tempest was written for the festivities that attended the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth with the Prince Palatine; and was performed at court in the beginning of the year 1613. In the island Princess, Miranda, Shakspeare undoubtedly designed a poetic representative of the virgin and high-born bride; in the royal and learned Prospero, we may trace a complimentary allusion to the literary char acter and mysterious studies of her royal father; and it is at all events as likely that the letter of James to Shakspeare should have had reference to The Tempest as to Macbeth. Our author seems to have formed a more correct estimate of the talents of his sovereign, than that which we have blindly received and adopted on the authority of his political enemies, the Nonconformists; and in a MS. volume of poems, which was purchased by Boswell, the following complimentary lines are preserved. SHAKSPEARE UPON THE KING. "Crownes have their compass, length of dayes their date, Of more than earth cann earth make none partaker ; Thus honored and applauded by the great, the intercourse of Shakspeare with that bright band and company of gifted spirits, which ennobled the reigns of Elizabeth and James by their writings, must have been a source of the highest intellectual delight. The familiarity with which they seem to have communicated; the constant practice of uniting their powers in the completion of a joint production; the unvarying admiration with which they rejoiced in the triumphs of their literary companions, and introduced the compositions of one another to the world by recommendatory verses, present us with such a picture of kind and gay and intelligent society, as the imagination finds it difficult to entertain an adequate conception of. "Sir Walter Raleigh, previously to his unfortunate engagement with the wretched Cobham and others, had instituted a meeting of beaux esprits at the Mermaid, a celebrated tavern in Friday street. Of this club, which combined more talent, perhaps, than ever met together before or since, our author was a member; and here, for many years, he regularly repaired with Ben Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher, Selden, Cotton, Carew, Martin, Donne, and many others, whose names, even at this distant period, call up a mingled feeling of reverence and respect. Here, in the full flow and confidence of friendship, the lively and interesting |