indeed the emblem of innocence and the bond of friendship; and more especially to all true Freemasons of the United Kingdom and her Colonies, and of the United States of America," who speak the language Shakspere spoke," the following pages are respectfully dedicated, by a humble but earnest Brother of the Craft, who, whilst he holds himself alone responsible for the opinions expressed in this volume, at the same time hopes that there will not be found in the work now once more offered to the public, anything opposed to the important duties which every "brother of the mystic tie" is taught that he owes to God, to his neighbour, and to himself:

"To God, by never mentioning His holy name but with that awe and reverence which are due from the creature to his Creator, and by imploring His aid on all your lawful undertakings, and by looking up to Him in every emergency for comfort and support; to your neighbour, by acting with him upon the square, by rendering him every kind office, which justice or mercy may require, by relieving his distresses, by soothing his afflictions, and by doing to him as, in similar cases, you would wish him to do to you; and to yourself, by such a prudent and well regulated course of discipline as may best conduce to the preservation of your corporeal and mental faculties in their fullest energy; thereby enabling you to exert the talents wherewith God has blest you, as well to His glory as to the welfare of your fellowcreatures."-Initiation Charge.

The foregoing extract, though it can give to the uninitiated but a faint idea of our beautiful system of morality, "veiled in allegory, and illustrated by symbols," may, nevertheless, in the language of that true Mason, GEORGE WASHINGTON, "tend to convince mankind that the grand object of Masonry is to promote the happiness of the human race."

That we may so carry out the three grand principles of Freemasonry-Brotherly Love, Relief and Truth-that "when a man is said to be a Mason, the world may know that he is one to whom the burthened heart may pour forth its sorrows, to whom the distressed may prefer their suit, whose heart is guided by justice, and whose hand is extended by benevolence," is the earnest prayer of

GEORGE MARKHAM TWEDDELL.

PREFACE.

A few words may be necessary, by way of preface to the present volume, lest its purport be misunderstood. Not for the wealthy man of learning and leisure, who can afford to buy many books, and devote much time to any favourite study, was this humble contribution to our English literature originally intended; but for my own order, the men who never purchase books without sacrificing some other of the few comforts of life which a poor man enjoys, and the women who love Literature as a benignant goddess, whose countenance is surrounded by a holy halo (as the heads of Christ and the Virgin are by the nimbus in religious pictures), but who must curtail their small wardrobe and pantry expenses to afford the glorious luxury of good books. But finding that my book has been deemed worthy of a place in the libraries of the learned, and being assured by some of our popular authors that they often peruse its pages with pleasure, I have resolved to issue an enlarged and improved edition, which, whilst it will be better adapted to the mansion and the manse, will still be within the reach of the occupant of the humble cottage. For however glad I may be for the prelate and the peer to peruse my pages, it will afford me still higher pleasure to know that they are dear to the bosoms of the labouring and trading classes; that when the peasant returns from the labours of the field, the smith from the forge, the trader from the mart, and the artisan from his workshop, they can find amusement and instruction in my writings; that they make my books their companions when they need relaxation from their various labours, and find in them something to refresh their wearied spirits, and to cheer them on in the great battle of life.

I have aimed at conveying, in the following pages, that information which I have perused some hundreds of books to obtain; to give, in a few hours' reading, a condensation or epitome of the history of Shakspere's days, which, scanty as it undoubtedly is, has cost me the labour of years. I have endeavoured to make my work as correct and impartial as possible; and if I have ever erred in dates, the fault is in the books to which I have had access; and any error of this description which may be pointed out to me, will be carefully attended to in another edition, should one ever be required. I think it

is WILLIAM COBBETT who gives us the shrewd advice, never to write a book unless we have first felt the want of such a one ourselves. I have acted upon this maxim, having often felt the want of a work like the present; and the memorandums from which the present volume is compiled were, at first, merely collected for my own instruction; and, I must confess, that I was more "impelled by hunger" to publish them, than by any great "request of friends;" though several literary men, whose opinions I respect, encouraged me to print the work, as they thought a contemporaneous history of the period treated of in the following pages could not be otherwise than acceptable to the general reader. For, as WILLIAM OLDYS, the antiquary, well observes:-"How many readers are there who would be glad of attaining to knowledge the shortest way, seeing the orb thereof is swollen to such magnitude, and life but a span to grasp it? * * * In a word, if he be ignorant, who would not wish to enlarge his knowledge? If he be knowing, who would

not willingly refresh his memory?" But, as my poor departed friend, JOHN BOLTON ROGERSON, has truly sung :

:

"How shall we speak of him whose cherish'd name

Is link'd to glorious and undying fame;

Poet of every clime, and class, and age,

The worshipp'd wonder of the world's wide stage!
What pen can write, what tongue can speak of him
In terms that seem not lustreless and dim?

Yet turn we ever wondering to the past,

To pierce the shroud round Shakspere's greatness cast.
How look'd he in his mortal life? How spoke
Those lips that passions numberless have woke?
How fashion'd was the temple that enshrined
The fair and matchless jewel of his mind?
What was the seeming of his human form,
Ere it became a dweller with the worm ?
What were the sources from whose founts he drew
His draughts of knowledge, ever fresh and true?
What volumes came before his studious sight?
Whose leaves for him bore fruits of wise delight?
Who were the co-mates of that wondrous man,
Who knew alike both prince and artisan?
With equal skill he painted mirth and woe-
What joys were his? what sorrows did he know?

Alike he knew the smallest, greatest things,
The schemes of pedlars, and the plots of kings,

The buoyant hopes of youth, the cares of age,

The quips of jester, and the saws of sage.
With fairy elves he fill'd the mystic green,
Or cast his spells o'er some enchanted scene;
For him the past gave up its mighty dead,

And heroes paced again with mailed tread;

He waved at will his ever-potent wand,

And forms appear'd from known and unknown land."

Whether the critics may approve or condemn my humble efforts (and I promise them that an unkind, or even unjust, criticism shall not kill me, as the

vii.

one in the Quarterly Review* is said to have done poor Keats!), one thing I do know, viz., that I have a much better knowledge of the times of Shakspere since I commenced my compilation, than ever had before; so that my labour has not been altogether in vain, so far as myself is concerned. True, I knew that Shakspere, and Spenser, and Sidney, and Raleigh, with a host of others I could mention, all belonged to what is commonly called the Elizabethan era: but when I asked myself, In what manner were Shakspere and Spenser employed when Sir Philip Sidney was shot at the battle of Zutphen? what were the respective ages of Raleigh and them at the time of the defeat of the Spanish Armada? what ages were John Milton and Oliver Cromwell at the death of Shakspere? or any similar question, I was forced to refer to biographies of the different illustrious men, before I could satisfy my curiosity. The easier to gain this sort of information, I began to classify the different events under the various years of the life of Shakspere in which I found them stated to have occurred,—because, as so little is known of the personal history of the great poet of the human race, I felt anxious to know under what circumstances he had really lived. The brief memoranda swelled to such a magnitude that I wove a portion of them up into a sort of gossiping history of Shakspere, his times, and contemporaries; and it was published in a cheap form, to bring it within the reach of the toiling multitude, who, thank God! are fast becoming thinkers. Although the publisher neither advertised the book, nor forwarded copies to the reviewers, the whole edition of three thousand copies was soon disposed of, and the work has for some years been out of print.

Taught, from my earliest infancy, by a beloved mother's lips, to venerate "the golden days of good Queen Bess" as the most glorious era in English history, it is in total opposition to all my own prejudices that I utter one harsh word concerning that epoch. But truth is stern, and must be spoken at all times, and on all subjects; and the author who, from fear or for favour, basely prostitutes his pen to mere party purposes, may be said, like the fabled Doctor Faustus, to sell his soul to the devil!

It often pains me, when I read our English histories-such, at least, as I have had access to-to find monarchs, warriors, and intriguing politicians occupying the whole scroll. It is just and proper that bloodshed, however noble or ignoble the cause in which it has taken place, should be faithfully recorded. But is not the discovery of the manner in which the living blood circulates in the veins and arteries of peaceful citizens, by the English physician, WILLIAM HARVEY, worthy of at least equal record? Must the death

of a Secretary WALSINGHAM, (a mere cunning statesman at the best, however useful he might be in detecting the wily plots of the Jesuits,) be carefully handed down to posterity, whilst the demise of a WILLIAM SHAKSPERE, the most gifted of mankind, and one to whom the world is debtor, is passed by as unworthy of notice? For if historians do allow poets, philosophers, and philanthropists a place in their Pantheon, is it not patent to all men that they are thrust into the darkest and most obscure niches in the whole temple? The world will be wiser hy-and-bye; and that happy time prophesied by so many hopeful bards the "Millenium" of the Hebrew prophets and the "Good Time Coming" of our own spirit-moving poet, CHARLES MACKAY—rest assured, will one day arrive; and those writers who have in any way aided human progression by their pens and by their good examples, will then be deservedly honoured; whilst all "stump-orators" and "doers of sham literature," as THOMAS CARLYLE would call them, will be both heartily and universally despised. Even now, are not the poets and philosophers, the painters and sculptors, the navigators and engineers, the patriots and the philanthropists, the brightest stars in our heaven? I do not seek to under-rate the services of warriors and statesmen when the cause of justice calls them forth,-for then they are sacred. The brethren of one guild should not seek to disparage their brothers of another. But I will say with Fleming in the Hyperion of Professor LONGFELLOW :-"Blot out from England's history the names of Chaucer, Shakspere, Spenser, and Milton only, and how much of her glory would you blot out with them! Take from Italy such names as Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Michael Angelo, and Raphael, and how much would be wanting to the completeness of her glory! How would the history of Spain look, if the leaves were torn out on which are written the names of Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and Calderon? What would be the fame of Portugal, without her Camöens; of France, without her Racine, and Rabelais, and Voltaire; of Germany, without her Martin Luther, her Goëthe, and her Schiller? Nay, what were the nations of old, without their philosophers, poets, and historians? Tell me, do not these men, in all ages, and in all places, emblazon with bright colours the armorial bearings of their country? Yes, and far more than this, for in all ages, and in all places, they give humanity assurance of its greatness, and say, 'Call not this time or people wholly barbarous, for thus much, even then and there, could the human mind achieve !'"

Cleveland Cottage, near Stokesley.