Being free from vainness, and self-glorious pride,

Giving full trophy, signal and ostent,

Quite from himself to God.

In like manner, his son and successor, out of the fulness of the thankful heart for which he had prayed, thus signifies the acknowledgments which he desires to make upon hearing of the suppression of the insurrection headed by Jack Cade :—

Then, Heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!

King Henry VI., 2nd Pt., Act. iv. Sc. 9.

The same pious and grateful character is ascribed, more than once, in the First Part of the same play, to the gallant Lord Talbot (see Act iii. Sc. 2 and Sc. 4); reminding us of the watchword of Judas Maccabeus, 'Victory is of God:' see 2 Macc. xiii. 15.

The occasion of ordinary occurrence to which I referred as one upon which our poet appears to have felt, in an especial manner, that thankfulness was due, is the receiving of our 'daily bread.' Although, as Cicero has said-I forget of whom 'non tam hominis fuit ista virtus quàm temporum,' so the praise of this is due not more to our poet himself than to the age in which he lived. It is indeed greatly to the credit of our forefathers that they recognized the duty of saying grace at meals, certainly not less, and performed it, I imagine, far more efficiently than we in this generation are wont to do. This is evident partly from the forms which

were in use for such occasions, and which have come down to us in the Primers and other Devotional Manuals of the reigns of Edward VI. and Elizabeth, and partly from such as are still retained, mostly in Latin, in some of our college halls at the English universities and public schools.* Still Shakspeare must also have the credit of giving to this duty its due prominence, and of indicating, as we shall presently see, again and again, the sense which he doubtless entertained of its propriety and importance. A century later it would seem that a change had come over the manners of our countrymen-if we may trust the testimony of Pope, speaking, too, of poets-for the worse:

And what's more rare, a poet shall say grace.

And again, in another poem :

Sons, sires, and grandsons, all will wear the bays,
Our wives read Milton, and our daughters plays;
To theatres and to rehearsals throng,

And all our grace at table is a song.

At the same time I must not omit to add that we have the authority of Dr. Warton, in an observation upon the former of these passages, for the statement that, if saying grace was 'rare' with Pope, it was not so with Dean Swift. He always did it,' says the doctor, and (which one is glad to hear of

See also Tusser's Five hundred Points of good Husbandry, p. 261:

At dinner, at supper, at morning, at night,

Give thanks unto God for His gifts so in sight.

anything that he did) 'with remarkable decency and devotion.'*

But to return to Shakspeare. Our first two illustrations are derived from the ancient days of Greece and Rome-from Timon of Athens, and from Coriolanus; and in these instances it may be thought that our poet has again been guilty of an impropriety-similar to that which we before noticed+-in attributing to men and women among the heathen 'sentiments and practices' which are to be found only among Christians. But if so, this much at least may be said in his defence. If there be one redeeming feature in the spirit of the old Classical mythology, it is the disposition which it tended to form of habitual thankfulness‡ to a Superior Being. That it went so far as to teach men to say grace at meals, I am not prepared to maintain; but that it taught what was in effect the same-not to taste the cup till a libation had been poured to Jove, and not to put the sickle to the corn till sacred songs had been sung to Ceres-this, Homer, Il. vii. 480, and Virgil, Georg. i. 350, without going further, may suffice to prove.

One grace in Timon of Athens is a long one. Timon himself offers it, upon occasion of giving an entertainment in his own house. He introduces

Essay on Pope, vol. ii. p. 306.

+ See above, p. 113.

See the beautiful passage in the fourth book of the Excursion to this effect.

it thus, speaking to the guests; 'The gods require our thanks;' and it begins in these words:

You great benefactors! sprinkle our society with thankfulness.

Act iii. Sc. 6.

This of course is in prose; but on a previous occasion, in the same play, another grace occurs, said by Apemantus, the 'churlish philosopher,' which is in verse, much after the style of some of the metrical graces in the old primers; and the manner in which it is introduced, apparently as a Benedictio post cibum, or at least after the entertainment has commenced, may possibly be intended to reflect upon the omission of grace-saying at public banquets, or at the tables of the rich a suspicion which the words, spoken by the same character immediately before, would seem to confirm :

Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

Act i. Sc. 2.

However this may be, and however we may question the propriety of putting such a sentiment as I am about to quote from Coriolanus into the mouth of a Volscian soldier, there can be no doubt that the sentiment itself implies great familiarity on the part of our poet with the practice of saying grace both before and after meals. The scene is A camp, at a small distance from Rome. Enter Aufidius, General of the Volscians, and his Lieutenant.

Aufid. Do they still fly to the Roman ? *

i.e., to Coriolanus.

Lieut. I do not know what witchcraft's in him; but
Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
And you are darkened in this action, sir,
Even by your own.

Act iv. Sc. 7.

But to come to Christian times. Passing by the very proper resolution of Sir Hugh Evans, in Merry Wives of Windsor, Act i. Sc. 1: 'I will not be absence at the grace,'-where, by the bye, we should have thought Sir Hugh would have been the person to 'ask the blessing;' we may turn to the Merchant of Venice, and I think we shall not be far wrong in supposing that our poet designed to satirize the Puritanism which had begun to prevail in his own age, when he put the following lines into the mouth of Gratiano in that play. Bassanio, whom he had proposed to accompany to Belmont, the house of Portia, consented, but at the same time required of him 'to allay his skipping spirit with some cold drops of modesty':

Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely ;
Nay, more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh and say, Amen;
Use all the observance of civility,

Like one well-studied in a sad ostent,

To please his grandam-never trust me more.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

It is somewhat remarkable that no one of Shak