mores hominum: now our present writers reflect so much upon particular persons and coxcombeities, that twenty years hence they will not be understood. Though, as Ben Jonson sayes of him, that he had but little Latine and lesse Greek, he understood Latine pretty well, for he had been in his younger years a schoolmaster in the country.' See Letters from the Bodleian Library, &c. iii. 307. In order to reconcile these conflicting testimonies, Malone supposes that Aubrey confounded the father of our poet, with John, son of Thomas Shakspeare, a butcher at Warwick, who lived at the same period. Dr. Drake, however, conjectures that John Shakspeare, when under the pressure of adversity, might combine the two employments of wool-stapler and butcher, which are in a certain degree connected with each other. The same learned author seems also inclined to believe, with Malone, that, in the early part of his life, Shakspeare was employed in the office of an attorney; that some uncertain rumor of this kind might have continued to the middle of the last century; and by the time it reached Aubrey, our poet's original occupation was changed from a scrivener to that of a schoolmaster. To the disposition and moral character of Shakspeare, to the felicity of his temper and the sweetness of his manners, tradition has ever borne the most uniform and favorable testimony: and, indeed, had she been silent on the subject, his own works would have whispered to us the truth; would have told us, in almost every page, of the gentleness, the benevolence, and the goodness of his heart. That a temper of this description, and combined with such talents, should be the object of sincere and ardent friendship, can excite no surprise. I loved the man,' says Jonson, with a noble burst of enthusiasm, ́ and do honor his memory on this side idolatry as much as any. He was indeed honest, and of an open and free nature.' My gentle Shakspeare' is the language of the same great man, in his poem to the memory of our bard; and Rowe, repeating the uncontradicted rumor of times past, has told us, that every one, who had a true sense of merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and esteem for him;' adding, 'that his exceeding candor and good nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him.' Mrs. Shakspeare, who survived her husband eight years, was buried between his grave and the north wall of the chancel, under a stone inlaid with brass, and thus inscribed : Heere lyeth interred the bodye of Anne, wife of Mr. William Shakespeare, who depted. this life the 6th day of Avgvst, 1623, being of the age of 67 yeares. Vbera, tv, Mater, tv lac vitamq. dedisti; Qvam mallem, amoveat lapidem bonvs angel' ore, Sed nil vota valent; venias cito, Christe; resvrget, Of Shakspeare's two daughters, the eldest, Susanna, married Dr. John Hall, a physician of Stratford, who is said to have obtained much reputation and practice. She brought her husband an only child, Elizabeth, who was married, first, to Thomas Nashe, Esq. and afterwards to Sir John Barnard, of Abingdon, in Northamptonshire; but had no issue. by either of them. Judith, Shakspeare's second daughter, married Thomas Quiney, a vintner of Stratford, by whom she had three children; but none of them reached their twentieth year, and they left no posterity. Hence our poet's last lineal descendant was Lady Barnard, who was buried at Abingdon, February 17, 1669-70. Dr. Hall, her father, died November 25, 1635, and her mother July 11, 1649; and both were interred in Stratford church. Our poet's house and lands continued in the possession of his descendants to the time of the Restoration, when they were repurchased by the Clopton' family, the original proprietors. Sir Hugh Clopton, who was knighted by George I., modernised the residence by internal and external alterations, and in 1742, entertained Macklin, Garrick, and Dr. Delany under Shakspeare's mulberry-tree. By Sir Hugh's executor it was sold to the Rev. Francis Gastrell, vicar of Frodsham in Cheshire; who, if we may judge by his actions, felt no pride or pleasure in this charming retirement, no consciousness of being possessed of the sacred ground, which the Muses had consecrated to the memory of their favorite poet. The celebrated mulberry-tree, planted by Shakspeare's hand, became first an object of his dislike, because it subjected him to answer the frequent importunities of travellers, whose zeal might prompt them to visit it. In an evil hour the sacrilegious priest ordered the tree, then remarkably large and at its full growth, to be cut down; which was no sooner done, than it was cleft to pieces for fire-wood: this took place in 1756, to the great vexation, not only of the inhabitants, but of every admirer of our bard. The greater part of it was however soon after purchased by Mr. T. Sharp, watch-maker, of Stratford; who, well acquainted with the value set on it by the world, turned it much to his advantage, by converting every fragment into small boxes, goblets, tooth-pick cases, tobacco-stoppers, and numerous other articles. Nor did New Place long escape the destructive hand of Mr. Gastrell, who, being compelled to pay the monthly assessments towards the maintenance of the poor, some of which he expected to avoid because he resided part of the year at Lichfield, though his servants continued in the house at Stratford during his absence;—in the heat of his anger declared, that house should never be assessed again; and to give his imprecation due effect, and wishing as it seems to be damn'd to everlasting fame,' the demolition of New Place soon followed; for in 1759 he razed the building to the ground, disposed of the materials, and left Stratford amidst the rage and curses of its inhabitants. Thus was the town deprived of one of its principal ornaments and most valued relics, by a man, who, had he been possessed of a true sense, and a veneration for the memory of our bard, would have rather preserved whatever particularly concerned their great and immortal owner, than ignorantly have trodden the ground which had been cultivated by the greatest genius in the world, without feeling those emotions which naturally arise in the breast of the generous enthusiast. Many portraits have been engraved and published as likenesses of our author; but it is a lamentable and extraordinary fact, that there is no authority attached to one of them. The pedigree of each is defective, and even that in the title of the first folio edition of the author's works, which has been poetically extolled by Jonson, is so badly drawn and executed, that it cannot be considered a good likeness. Not so the monumental bust in Stratford church; for this appeals to our eyes and under |