NOTE ON THE SCHOOL LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKSPERE.

WE have already referred to the two novelets of Tieck, in which he sketches out the early career of the poet. The following extract may be interesting to our readers. It is scarcely necessary to say that we do not take the same view as the German critic-that we do not think the schoolprogress of William Shakspere was slow; that he suffered from the strict temper of his father, and was the witness of family misfortunes. The evidence of all the early writings of Shakspere goes far to prove that he had looked upon existence with an eye of untroubled cheerfulness. Never did any young poet possess his soul more undisturbed with fears of

"Poverty's unconquerable bar."

The narrative which we subjoin professes to be a relation by the poet himself to the Earl of Southampton. We give it from a translation which appeared some years ago in 'The Academic Chronicle,' a literary journal of considerable merit, but of short vitality:—

"It was in a season of religious and political commotion,' resumed the poet, 'that I myself was born. It happened, too, that at that very period there came to Warwickshire and the neighbouring counties a man of superior ability and learning, who in the course of his travels had gained over numerous converts to the Catholic Church,-William Allen, who was afterwards made a cardinal. Among other places he visited Stratford, and excited much disquiet both in that little town and in our family. He entirely worked himself into the affections of my uncle, my father's brother; and even my father himself was for some time wavering in doubt, and greatly troubled in mind. The latter, who was of a gloomy disposition, was always melancholy, and this agitation of religious opinions led him into many disputes both with his own relations and with his neighbours. Besides this, it was a matter of peril to hold any intercourse with foreign priests, while, at the same time, those who were either evil-disposed, or were zealous Protestants, caught at every suspicious report. My earliest impressions were of a gloomy cast; my mother alone, who made much of me, was of a cheerful temper. She was of a clever turn, and her memory was stored with many a tale of marvel and mystery which she was wont to relate to me. On the intelligence of the dreadful tragedy of St. Bartholomew's eve reaching England, many proselytes—at least those who had begun to lean towards the ancient faith-again changed their sentiments.

"My father, however, still continued dissatisfied with me, for my progress at school was exceedingly slow. Never shall I forget that free-school in the Guildhall, where I used to sit at the old worm-eaten oaken desk, poring over my task, till what sense and comprehension I had seemed ready to leave me, and I often feared that I should become quite stupid. Would not one be tempted to think such schools had been purposely contrived to terrify children altogether from study and learning, lest too much thinking should disturb society? This eternal going over the same thing, this useless repetition of what has already been learned, calculated only for such as are slow of comprehension, while no regard is had to him who is more apt in his studies, often drove me to distraction. Even this very repetition of what was already familiar to me prevented me from retaining it in my memory, and my disgust at this mode of teaching increased to such a degree, that I felt a horror of mind whenever I thought of this school and my instructors there.

"My poor father, whose business was altered materially for the worse, wished to have as soon as possible some assistance in the management of it and in keeping his accounts; nor was I by any means sorry that he took me away earlier than usual from school, and gave me a private teacher at home, while I was employed by him in his own affairs. It was natural that I should form acquaintances with lads of my own age, who would frequently take me along with them in

their little excursions and rambles, or invite me to join their meetings. My father, however, who entertained very strict and singular notions of morality, accounted all such recreations sinful indulgence, nor could he easily be brought to consent that I should partake in them. In the family of the Hathaways I used to spend much of my time: the son was a brisk, lively fellowa jolly boon-companion; and the daughter, Anne, who was my senior by some ten years,* treated me as if I had been her younger brother. Like many other persons in our town and its neighbourhood, the Hathaways showed me friendliness and kindness, but I perceived they considered me a lad fit for very little, and one who would never turn out to be anything extraordinary.'"

* An error. Anne Hathaway (Tieck calls her Johanne) died in 1623, aged 67. She was thus about seven years olde! than her husband.

THE ancient accounts of the Chamberlain of the borough of Stratford exhibit a number of payments made out of the funds of the corporation for theatrical performances. In 1569, when John Shakspere was high bailiff, there is a payment of nine shillings to the Queen's players, and of twelve pence to the Earl of Worcester's players. In 1573 the Earl of Leicester's players received five shillings and eightpence. In 1576 "my Lord of Warwick's players" have a gratuity of seventeen shillings, and the Earl of Worcester's players of five and eightpence. In 1577 "my Lord of Leicester's players" receive fifteen shillings, and "my Lord of Worcester's players" three and fourpence. In 1579 and 1580 the entries are more circumstantial :

* Mr. Halliwell, in his Life of Shakspere, presents us with voluminous extracts from the account books of the chamberlains from 1543 to 1717.

"1579. Item paid to my Lord Strange men the xith day of February at the comaundement of Mr. Bayliffe, v8.

P at the comandement of Mr. Baliffe to the Countys of Essex plears, xivs. vid.

1580. P1 to the Earle of Darbyes players at the comaundement of Mr. Baliffe, viiis. ivd.”

It thus appears that there had been three sets of players at Stratford within a short distance of the time when William Shakspere was sixteen years of age. We shall here endeavour to present a general view of the state of the stage at this point of its history; with reference to the impressions which theatrical performances would then make upon him who would be the chief instrument in building up upon these rude foundations a noble and truly poetical dramasuch a view as may enable the reader to form a tolerable conception of the amusements which were so highly popular, and so amply encouraged, in a smal! town far distant from the capital, as to invite three distinct sets of players there to exhibit in the brief period which is defined in the above entries.

It is a curious circumstance that the most precise and interesting account which we possess of one of the earliest of the theatrical performances is from the recollection of a man who was born in the same year as William Shakspere. In 1639 R. W. (R. Willis), stating his age to be seventy-five, published a little volume, called Mount Tabor,' which contains a passage which is essential to be given in any history or sketch of the early stage.

*

"UPON A STAGE-PLAY WHICH I SAW WHEN I WAS A CHILD.

"In the city of Gloucester the manner is (as I think it is in other like corporations) that, when players of interludes come to town, they first attend the mayor, to inform him what nobleman's servants they are, and so to get licence for their public playing; and if the mayor like the actors, or would show respect to their lord and master, he appoints them to play their first play before himself and the aldermen and common council of the city; and that is called the mayor's play, where every one that will comes in without money, the mayor giving the players a reward as he thinks fit, to show respect unto them. At such a play my father took me with him, and made me stand between his legs, as he sat upon one of the benches, where we saw and heard very well. The play was called 'The Cradle of Security,' wherein was personated a king or some great prince with his courtiers of several kinds, amongst which three ladies were in special grace with him, and they, keeping him in delights and pleasures, drew him from his graver counsellors, hearing of serLons, and listening to good counsel and admonitions, that in the end they got him to lie down in a cradle upon the stage, where these three ladies, joining in a sweet song, rocked him asleep, that he snorted again, and in the mean time closely conveyed under the clothes wherewithal he was covered a vizard like a swine's snout upon his face, with three wire chains fastened thereunto, the other end whereof being holden severally by those three ladies, who fall to singing again, and then discovered his face, that the spectators might see how they had transformed him going on with their singing. Whilst all this was acting, there came forth of another door at the farthest end of the stage, two old men, the one in blue, with a sergeant-at-arms his mace on his shoulder, the other in red, with a drawn sword in his hand, and leaning with the other hand upon the other's shoulder, and so they two went along in a soft pace, round about by the skirt of the stage, till at last they came to the cradle, when all the court was in greatest jollity, and then the foremost old man with his mace struck a fearful blow upon the cradle, whereat all the courtiers, with the three ladies and the vizard, all vanished; and the desolate prince, starting up barefaced, and finding himself thus sent for to judgment, made a lamentable complaint of his miserable case, and so was carried away by wicked spirits. This prince did personate in the moral the wicked of the world; the three

* This account was first extracted by Malone in his 'Rise and Progress of the English Stage.' It has been given also, with the correction of a few inaccuracies, by Mr. Collier.

ladies, pride, covetousness, and luxury; the two old men, the end of the world and the last judg ment. This sight took such impression in me, that when I came towards man's estate it was as fresh in my memory as if I had seen it newly acted."

We now understand why the bailiff of Stratford paid the players out of the public money. The first performance of each company in this town was the bailiff's, or chief magistrate's, play; and thus, when the father of William Shakspere was bailiff, the boy might have stood "between his legs as he sat upon one of the benches." It would appear from Willis's description that 'The Cradle of Security' was for the most part dumb show. It is probable that he was present at its performance at Gloucester when he was six or seven years of age; it evidently belongs to that class of moral plays which were of the simplest construction. And yet it was popular long after the English drama had reached its highest eminence. When the pageants and mysteries had been put down by the force of public opinion, when spectacles of a dramatic character had ceased to be employed as instruments of religious instruction, the professional players who had sprung up founded their popularity for a long period upon the ancient habits and associations of the people. Our drama was essentially formed by a course of steady progress, and not by rapid transition. We are accustomed to say that the drama was created by Shakspere, Marlowe, Greene, Kyd, and a few others of distinguished genius; but they all of them worked upon a foundation which was ready for them. The superstructure of real tragedy and comedy had to be erected upon the moral plays, the romances, the histories, which were beginning to be popular in the very first days of Queen Elizabeth, and continued to be so, even in their very rude forms, beyond the close of her long reign.

We have very distinct evidence that stories from the Sacred Scriptures, in character perhaps very little different from the ancient Mysteries, were performed upon the London stage at a period when classical histories, romantic legends, and comedies of intrigue, attracted numerous audiences both in the capital and the provinces. At the period which we are now describing there was a fierce controversy going forward on the subject of theatrical exhibitions; and from the very rare tracts then published we are enabled to form a tolerably accurate estimate of the character of the early theatre. In one of these tracts, which appeared in 1580, entitled A Second and Third Blast of Retrait from Plaies and Theaters,' we have the following passage :-"The reverend word of God, and histories of the Bible, set forth on the stage by these blasphemous players, are so corrupted by their gestures of scurrility, and so interlaced with unclean and whorish speeches, that it is not possible to draw any profit out of the doctrine of their spiritual moralities. For that they exhibit under laughing that which ought to be taught and received reverendly. So that their auditory may return made merry in mind, but none comes away reformed in manners. And of all abuses this is most undecent and intolerable, to suffer holy things to be handled by men so profane, and defiled by interposition of dissolute words." (Page 103.) Those who have read the ancient Mysteries, and even the productions of Bishop Bale which appeared not thirty years before this was written, will agree that the players ought not wholly to have the blame of the "interposition of dissolute words." But unquestionably it