as closely in the soul of the child as in the destiny of the

man.

Yet the conditions under which great men have been nurtured must influence the formation of their character, and sometimes give a direction to their genius. Nor can we doubt that the ruling passion, strong in death, shows itself almost at birth, almost with the first efforts of intellect. But these feeble ebullitions are the traits of childhood which are often least noted: and, like a ripple on the brook, they pass so quickly, that they are quickly forgotten.

The disposition begins to mould itself in the same way, with dawning perception. Our first lessons are the incidents around us, the unheeding gossip and thoughtless actions of our elders. The atmosphere in which we live casts down its impressions, as the air its ovæ, and both take eternal root in the soil. Thus Napoleon declared that a man's character was formed by his mother. And here he was only echoing the opinion of Shakespeare, who says, "He's all the mother's, from the top to toe." The poet remembered the source of his own first knowledge, and in another place tells us how it was imparted

"Those who do teach young babes,

Do it with gentle means and easy tasks."2

By the loving admonition, by the kindly reproving look, and by her own example, Mary Shakespeare moulded his qualities and unfolded his mind, as she taught him to speak and walk. From such lessons he derived that habitual urbanity which brought the friends of his later life to call him

gentle Will." They gave him also, with his first impressions, a sense of the moral nature of woman, the tenderness of her heart, the depth of her love, and the purity of her aspirations,—and, familiarizing his mind with the good and

1 'King Richard III.,' act iii. 1.

2'Othello,' act iv. 2.

beautiful in a living type, thus prepared him for conceptions of undying beauty, grandeur, and sublimity.

While the little fellow was beginning to count his years, the domestic circle grew wider, bringing brothers and sisters to divide his mother's care and share his own affection. He appears to have been most attached to his sister Joan; for, so far as traces remain, she was the only one of the family for whom he evinced a lasting interest. The preference was natural, as their relative ages brought them more together, and they grew up in this fellowship. One of the last acts of his life was to provide her a home, realizing the sentiment he has put into the mouth of Camillo :-"They were trained together in their childhood, and there rooted between them then such an affection as cannot choose but branch now."

Joan was born when Shakespeare was five years old, and was the second of John Shakespeare's children who received that name-the first Joan, whose birth has already been mentioned, having died in infancy. Between Joan and William came Gilbert, born in 1566.2

John Shakespeare was at the height of his good fortune at the period of Joan's birth. On Michaelmas day of the preceding year he had been elected High Bailiff, which made him for his twelve months of power the chief man in Stratford. He supported the dignity of the office in a liberal manner, and, while he sought to please his own class, was not unmindful of the poor. The Chamberlain's accounts

1 Winter's Tale,' act i. 1.

2 The other children of John and Mary Shakespeare were:-5. Anne, baptized September 28, 1571; 6. Richard, baptized March 11, 1573-4; 7. Edward, baptized May 3, 1580. Rowe says there were ten children, but he evidently makes up the number with the three children of John Shakespeare, the shoemaker, the eldest of whom was not born till 1588, when the mother of the poet would, as we have shown, be at least fifty-three years of age.

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show that twelve-pence was paid to Peter Starkey for undersetting Mother Gill's house," preventing it from tumbling about her ears, a catastrophe which, from the disrespectful mention of her name, we may fear might not have been lamented by her neighbours. But whether a "wise woman" or a witch, or simply a poor old dame, Mother Gill enjoyed the protection of the High Bailiff, and so took no harm. It is of more import to note a payment to the Queen's players, and another to the players of the Earl of Leicester; apprising us that theatrical performances were first introduced at Stratford under the auspices of the father of Shakespeare.

The future dramatist was in his sixth year when he was a spectator of these exhibitions. The impression they made. upon him may be partly conceived from the spell which was thrown over our own childhood by the first visit to the theatre, since we know how from that moment we all became stage-struck, learnt dramatic speeches, engaged our companions in extempore performances, and found in no toy the enjoyment derived from a miniature playhouse. The spectacle witnessed by little Will Shakespeare was not, indeed, invested with the attractions of modern representations. There were no gorgeous dresses to give semblance to the characters; there was no changing scenery to heighten the effect; no artificial light to gently aid the illusion, and lend it the air of reality. Above all, the performance wanted the charm imparted by the participation of woman, -her grace, pathos, and beauty. But these properties, as we should now call them, are not what fascinate the young; as the colouring of the piece, they catch the eye for the moment, but it is the action that leaves the impression. This sank deep in the memory of the future poet, sitting as a child at the feet of Thespis, and, even at that age, must have given a turn to his thoughts.

He received his initiation in the drama and in letters about the same time, as if the alphabet of the one, the elementary old play, were as necessary to his education as that of the other. To qualify him for admission to the free school in his eighth year, he was required to be able to read; and this brought him under the ferule of one of the starched pedagogues, who then kept guard, like dragons, at the gate of learning. A representative of the class is preserved in Holofernes,' who, Moth tells us, is "lettered; for "he teaches boys the horn-book," the primer being fitted for the destructive fingers of boys by a cover of horn. Elsewhere Shakespeare mentions the more familiar title, at the same time recalling the lesson :—

"That is question now,

And then comes answer, like an A B C-book." 3

And, in another place, he finds a simile in the despair of a boy who has lost his A B C.4

The poet's next step on the ladder of learning has left no vestige, but he was soon brought up by the catechism, which he seems to recollect as a tough lesson. Rosalind cries out upon it to Corin, "To say ay and no to these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism."

Fortunately Holofernes was not the only tutor of Shakespeare's childhood. He received more genial, and for him not less useful instruction from his mother, though she was unable to teach him his letters. As he passed those fingerposts of knowledge, he was led on the road by her hand, in the charmed ballad lore which teaches all by the ear. It was as if the steepness of the way were beguiled by some 1 Warburton thinks that Holofernes was drawn from John Florio, but we shall show hereafter good reason for differing from this eminent critic. 2 Love's Labour's Lost,' act v. 1.

3 King John,' act i. 1.

4 Two Gentlemen of Verona,' act ii. 1.

5As You Like It,' act iii. 2.

pleasant companion, who sang now a romantic ditty, now an historic lay, when he might have been wearied. The country then teemed with such compositions, forming a sort of Homeric literature, which preserved the memory of great national events among the common people. Our early histories are little more than these fugitive lyrics hammered into an Iliad. But those which escaped the fusion are the most precious; for they have come down to us in their native dress, with all the charm of antique melody. We owe their preservation to the deep impression they made on the peasantry, who treasured them in their homes, like family traditions; and it was from the lowly cottages of the poor that these gems of poesy were recovered by the learned, when they awoke, almost too late, to a sense of their beauty. In them we have found what history left untold—all that is known of King Arthur and his Round Table, of the bold outlaw, Robin Hood, and the hapless beauty, Fair Rosamond. Such legends were then the first lessons of the child, and might be recited to little Will Shakespeare in the glades of the forest of Arden, where the red-deer still lingered, and the spreading boughs above and the copse around gave a colouring to their incidents. Like Master Silence, he could sing the ditty of "Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John;" and his works show acquaintance with many another lay, revealing the lore of his childhood.

The poetic faculty does not come with a breath: it is an instinct, growing unseen-a living and active power, which, like the coral insect, is at work before the work is visible, before the breast is conscious of its presence. An irresistible attraction draws the rising poet to Nature, and to the beautiful and great, while such fellowship produces no apparent effect. So Shakespeare imbibed in childhood the sweet

1 King Henry IV., Part II.,' act v. 3.