than refinement and grace of appearance; individual and characteristic features predominate greatly over what is general and ideal; the latter is implied more in the representation as a whole, in the centre of the action; in the individual figures it appears only indirectly, inasmuch as they take a part in the action, and appear as the bearers of the fundamental idea.

By all this we, indeed, only wish to say that the English drama from the very commencement, comprehended the nature of the action with a clearness, assurance and energy as no other had done. Action is the very soul of the drama, that which makes it a drama; but owing to the fact that in the English drama, action is considered more important than anything else, the drama has a certain coldness and demureness; it is not only devoid of all sentimentality, but exhibits almost invariably an indifference in regard to feeling, which I am inclined to call the historical, for, like history, it passes unsympathetically over the mental emotions of individuals, and gives them sympathy and attention only so far as they become actions. It possesses that peculiar humour, which again I am inclined to call the historical, which plays with the destinies of individuals, while representing them in the drastic fulness of life. In fact, the English drama has something caustic, demure and unpleasant, a certain abruptness and severity in the manner in which it treats all details, a dry colouring, glaring lights and marked shades, angular turns, unæsthetical positions and shortenings, but-although frequently rather too much in the style of a sketch-it is always distinguished by sharp delineations, always by characteristic figures, always by life and movement in the individuals, as well as in the whole. The course which this movement describes is no broad high road, with seats for resting and open places for looking round and about, but a narrow irregular path; the advance is rapid, continual and unequal, sometimes proceeding peacefully, sometimes by fits and starts, digressive but always unceasingly urging its way onwards-like the advance of history. All subjects suit the English drama, the small occurrences of every-day life, as well as the great actions of the state, secret family events as well

as public affairs, profane as well as sacred history, the ancient legend with its wonders and dark colossal figures, as well as the bright present with its homely reality; human things and divine, high and low, foreign and native, all are embraced with equal love. In this respect it has a universality, which again I am inclined to call historical, because it comprises all the domains of life, except those in which there is no action. Lastly, the English language has a peculiar brevity and precision, a great sharpness and variety in the naming of all objects belonging to external, practical life, it has a great deal of bone and sinew, but little flesh and blood, hence a certain awkwardness of movement, looseness of combination, carelessness and indifference in regard to the laws of logic, and accordingly is extremely useful in active life, but poor and helpless in the expression of the feelings and mental emotions. For this reason it is little adapted for lyric and epic poetry, but all the more so, for the dramatic purposes, for the expression of action and its effects, of the will and its motives, of emotion, desire and passion. This general nature of the language itself, gives the diction of the English drama a dramatic stamp; it never speaks into its own self, but does so always in a lively manner to the objects which are being spoken of; its point is always turned in an outward direction, towards the action, as if, so to speak, it were always about to leap forth into action, to prove the word by the deed; it is thoroughly dialogical; its very monologues resemble discourses between two, the person speaking and his relations to the outer world, his circumstances and conditions, his plans and intentions.

When we consider what an incalculable advantage it is to genius to be led, from the very beginning, to the right path, to find levelled ways, and consequently not to require to squander his best powers in blind attempts and upon false tracks, we must admit that Shakspeare is extremely indebted to his predecessors, the first founders of this general style of the English drama. The old prejudice, which would regard Shakspeare as the solitary point of light in a wide waste of darkness, has, I hope, been in some degree removed by the preceding sketch.

The more we become acquainted with the history of the English stage, the more we are convinced that, in fact, Shakspeare is but a single link in the organic development of a great whole, that he did but complete what others had commenced before him, that he was but the master spirit amid a number of able fellow-labourers who worked with and before him.

Yet, for this very reason, Shakspeare is not only a point, but the culminating and central point in the sphere of the artistic development which he entered. The circumference does certainly determine the centre, but still it can itself be seen and accurately measured only from the centre. In the following Book, therefore, it will be our duty to show how powerfully Shakspeare influenced the formation of the dramatic art of his time, how he spun the given threads into a grand artistic texture, how he not only completed the edifice he found begun, but, at the same time altered it according to a higher standard, how, accordingly, as much light is reflected on his predecessors and contemporaries, as was thrown upon him by them, and consequently how it is that their workings and strivings, their value and importance can be estimated only from the height which he attained.

BOOK II.

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF SILAKSPEARE.

CHAPTER I.

THE ENGLISH NATION UNDER ELIZABETH.

THE age which could give birth to a genius like Shakspeare must also have had the power of producing and maturing so rare a fruit. For every person, and especially every one who figures in the history of the world, is at the same time a creation of universal history, and their birth may be regarded as much a matter of necessity as every great invention. Thus, when the development of the human mind required the magnet, gunpowder, and the art of printing, they were discovered. When, in the course of the world's history, a Luther, Dante, Raphael, Shakspeare, etc., were required, they were born.

The twelve decades from 1480 to 1600 form one of the greatest and riches eras in the history of humanity. The invention of printing (1440) had preceded it in order to furnish the external means, and to be the lever of the great revolution in the wheel of time. In the same way that Columbus discovered a new terrestrial world, Luther's Reformation created a new spiritual world. The arts and sciences of antiquity arose from their long state of lethargy into fresh and vigorous life. It was at this time also that the modern, and peculiarly Christian art, celebrated its greatest triumphs, for this was the age of those great and still unrivalled masters in painting-Leonardo da Vinci, Michel Angelo, Raphael, Titian, Correggio, and Dürer; of

the immortal and unrivalled composers of church music, Palestrina, Giovanni Gabrieli, Orlando Lasso, and others; lastly it was the cradle of the most important of modern poets, Tasso, Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, Camoensand above all, of Shakspeare. It may be said that the birth and activity of all these great minds were necessary, in the first place, because the creative power of the century had also to reveal itself in art, and also, because the great ideas of the past and present required to be brought out in an artistic form, secondly, because a check had to be given to the influence of the revival of ancient art and literature, that it might not crush the new formation of Christian art and turn it from its course by false imitations. The spirit of modern art, even though-as afterwards actually happened it should be momentarily suppressed by the imitation of the antique, would again rise to fresh power and beauty by the study of these great masters, who had grown up on the soil of Christian culture.

Of all the states of Europe it was England especially which, in the sixteenth century, stood forth pre-eminent in greatness and importance. While the others lost more or less in power and influence, there sprang up here, under Queen Elizabeth's fortunate sceptre, a fresh and vigorous life for the nation. The long wars with France, and the equally long civil wars of the Roses, had broken the feudal power of the Middle Ages, established the authority of the sovereign, and thereby given a new form to the political relation between the state and the people. The fact of Henry VIII. joining the Protestant Church gave rise to a mighty movement in religious and ecclesiastical life. The participation in this movement at first degenerated, it is true, into partisanship and mutual persecution; but the sound and vigorous seed once sown among the people might, perhaps, be retarded in its development, but could never be again rooted out, and soon bore the fairest flowers and fruit. The persecutions of Mary the Catholic acted only as a stimulus to greater efforts on the part of Protestantism and it became strengthened rather than weakened; under the fostering reign of Elizabeth, therefore, it again, with fresh vigour, raised its head and crushed its opponent. The extreme contrasts between