stole it from Ned, no doubt; do not marvel; have you not seen him act tymes out of number? G. PEEL." The first appearance of this Letter was in the Annual Register for 1770, whence it was copied into the Biographia Britannica, and in both these works it commences in the following manner : "I must desyre that my syster hyr watche, and the cookerie book you promysed, may be sente bye the man.- I never longed, &c." "Of the four, this is the only anecdote worth preserving; but," continues Dr. Drake, "F apprehend it to be a mere forgery." The name of Shakspeare and Ben Jonson as friends, and the most successful cultivators of our early dramatic literature, are so intimately connected, that the life of one involves the frequent mention of the other. Indeed, it is reported by Rowe, that Shakspeare was the original means of introducing the works of Jonson to the stage. "Jonson, altogether unknown to the world, had offered one of his plays to the players, in order to have it acted; and the persons into whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly and superciliously over, were just upon returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that it would be of no service to their company, when Shakspeare luckily cast his eye upon it, and found something so well in it, as to engage him first to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Jonson and his writings to the public."-This anecdote is disputed by Mr. Gifford. He proves that in 1598, when Every Man in his Humor, the first effort of Jonson's genius which we are acquainted with, was produced, "its author was as well known as Shakspeare, and, perhaps, better." Very true; but this does not in the least impugn the credibility of Rowe's tradition. It is nowhere asserted, that Every Man in his Humor was the play which thus attracted the attention of Shakspeare; all arguments, therefore, deduced from the situation held by Jonson in the literary world, at the time that comedy was first acted, are perfectly invalid. The performance which recommended him to Shakspeare, was most probably a boyish effort, full of talent and inexperience, which soon passed from the public mind, but not sooner than the author wished it to be forgotten; which he had the good sense to omit in the collection of his works published in 1616, and which, perhaps, he only remembered with pleasure from its having been the means of introducing him to the friendship of his great contemporary. But whatever cause might have originated the mutual kindness which subsisted between these two excellent and distinguished men, it is certain that an intimacy the most sincere and affectionate really did subsist between them. On the part of Jonson, indeed, the memorial of their attachment has been handed down to us in expressions as strong and unequivocal as any which the power of language can combine. He speaks of Shakspeare, not indeed as one blinded to the many defects by which the beauty of his productions was impaired, but with such candor and tenderness, as every reasonable man would desire at the hands of his friends, and in terms which secured a credit to his commendations, by showing that they were not the vain effects of a blind and ridiculous partiality. Jonson writes, "I love the man, and do honor his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any." And it is from his Elegy, To the Memory of his beloved Master William Shakspeare, that we have derived the two most endearing appellations, the "Gentle Shakspeare," and "Sweet Swan of Avon;" by which our poet has been known and characterized for nearly two centuries. It must appear extraordinary, that in opposition to such decisive proofs of the kindness entertained by Jonson for our author, his memory should have been persecuted for the last century by the most unfounded calumnies, as if he had been the most insidious and persevering enemy of his reputation. The rise and progress of this slander, which has been propagated through every modern edition of Shakspeare's works, is not wholly undeserving of our attention. Rowe, indeed, has the following anecdote, which he relates, perhaps, on the authority of Dryden, that "in a conversation between Sir John Suckling, Sir William D'Avenant, Endymion Porter, Mr. Hales of Eton, and Ben Jonson, Sir John Suckling, who was a professed admirer of Shakspeare, had undertaken his defence against Ben Jonson with some warmth; Mr. Hales, who had sat still for some time, told them, that, if Mr. Shak speare had not read the ancients, neither had he stolen anything from them; and that if he would produce any one fine topic treated by any one of them, he would undertake to show something upon the same subject at least as well written by Shakspeare." This anecdote was written nearly a hundred years after the death of our author, and more than seventy after the death of Jonson. Even supposing all the circumstances to be correct, it only represents Jonson as maintaining an opinion in conversation which he has printed in his Discoveries, that "many times Shakspeare fell into those things which could not escape laughter," and arguing, that a deeper knowledge of the classic writers would have improved his genius, and taught him to lop away all such unseemly exuberances of style. It shows the most learned poet of his time, or perhaps, of any time, honestly asserting the advantages that a poet may derive from a variety of learning; but this is all; and it supposes no undue or unfriendly attempt in Jonson to depreciate the fame of Shakspeare. Indeed, no hint of the existence of any difference or unkindness between those celebrated individuals is to be found in any contemporary author. Dryden thought Jonson's Verses to Shakspeare sparing and invidious; but to this opinion Pope very justly recorded his dissent; and wondered that Dryden should have held it. Rowe, in the first edition of his Life of Shakspeare, insinuates a doubt of the sincerity of Jonson's friendship; before the publication of his second edition, he found cause to reject a suspicion so injurious to the reputation of Jonson, and had the honesty to erase the passage from his work. The words, however, did not escape the vigilance of Malone: they were re-printed, and the sentiment re-adopted; and, as if it were more valuable to the commentators, from having been condemned by its author, their united labors and ingenuity have been indefatigably employed in inventing and straining evidence to support an insinuation, which was too carelessly disseminated, and too silently withdrawn. Rowe should have made such an explicit recantation of his error, as might have repaired the ill he had occasioned, and guarded the good name of one of our greatest poets against the revival of the calumny: this he unfortunately omitted; and he thus left the character of Jonson bare to the senseless and gratuitous malignity of every puny spirit, that chose to amuse its spleen by insulting the memory of the mighty dead. For years, the friend and eulogist of Shakspeare was aspersed as enrious and ungrateful, in almost every second note of every edition of our author's works; and it is only lately that the judicious exertions of Gilchrist and of Gifford have exposed the fallacy of such unwarranted imputations, and demonstrated, beyond the possibility of future doubt, that "Jonson and Shakspeare were friends and associates, till the latter finally retired- that no feud, no jealousy, ever disturbed that Shakspeare was pleased with Jonson, and that Jonson loved and admired Shakspeare." their connexion But courted, praised, and rewarded as he was, the stage, as a profession, was little fitted to the disposition of our poet. In his Sonnets, which afford us the only means of attaining a knowledge of his sentiments upon the subject, we find him lamenting the nature of his life with that dissatisfaction, which every noble spirit would necessarily suffer, in a state of unimportant labor and undignified publicity. In the hundreth and tenth, he exclaims, "Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there, And again, in the hundred and eleventh; with evident allusion to his being obliged to appear on the stage, and write for the theatre, he repeats, "O, for my sake, do you with fortune chide The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide, Than public means, which public manners breeds." With this distaste for a course of life, to which adversity had originally driven him, it is not extraordinary to find that he availed himself of the first moment of independence, to abandon the histrionic part of his double profession. This * Motley, i. e., a fool, a buffoon. occurred so early as 1604. After that time, his name never appears on the list of performers which were attached to the original editions of the old plays. Ben Jonson's Sejanus, which came out in 1603, is the last play in which he is mentioned as a performer. As a writer for the stage, and part proprietor of two principal theatres, he was obliged to be much in London; but he never took root and settled there. His family always resided at Stratford, and thither he once a year repaired to them. In the privacy of his native town, all the affections of his heart appear to have been "garner'd up;" and there, from his beginning to reap the wages of success, he deposited the emoluments of his labors, and hoped to find a home in his retirement. In 1597, he purchased New Place, a house which he repaired and adorned to his own taste, and which remained in the family till the death of his granddaughter, Lady Barnard; and in the garden of which he planted the celebrated mulberry-tree, which was so long an object of veneration as the flourishing memorial of the poet. To the possession of New Place, Shakspeare successively added, in the course of the following eight years, an estate of about one hundred and seven acres of land, and a moiety of the great and small tithes of Stratford. It was in one of his periodical journeys from London to Stratford, that "one midsummer night" he met at Crendon, in Bucks, with the original of Dogberry. Aubrey says, that the constable was still alive about 1642. "He and Ben Jonson did gather humors of men wherever they came;" and as the constable of Crendon sat for the picture of Dogberry, so we are told, on the authority of Bowman the player, that part of Sir John Falstaff's character was drawn from a townsman of Stratford, "who either faithlessly broke a contract, or spitefully refused to part with some land for a valuable consideration, adjoining to Shakspeare's house." Oldys has recorded in his MS. another anecdote connected with these journeys of our poet to Stratford, which 1 shall give in his own words.-"If tradition may be trusted, Shakspeare often baited at the Crown Inn or Tavern in Oxford, in his journey to and from London. The landlady was a woman of great beauty and sprightly wit, and her husband, Mr. John |