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times played about the city of London," as the title-page tells us this was; but the play, without any injury to its poetical reputation (to which, indeed, in the matter of plays, little respect was paid), might take a line from the Sonnet. Our reasoning may be defective, but our impression of the matter is very strong. The play was published in 1596, after being "sundry times played" in different theatres. William Herbert must have begun his career of licentiousness unusually early, and have had time to make a friend and abuse his confidence before he was fifteen -if the line is original in the Sonnet.

The last point to which we shall very briefly draw the reader's attention, is the doubt which has been stated whether the hundred and fifty-four Sonnets published in 1609 were the same as Meres mentioned, in 1598, as amongst the compositions of Shakspere, and familiar to his "private friends." Mr. Hallam thinks they are not the same, "both on account of the date, and from the peculiarly personal allusions they contain." One of the strongest of the personal allusions is contained in the 144th, originally printed in 'The Passionate Pilgrim.' Where could the printer of 'The Passionate Pilgrim' have obtained that Sonnet except from some one of Shakspere's "private friends?" If he so obtained it, why might not the collector of the volume of 1609 have obtained others of a similar character from a similar source? Would such productions have been circulated at all if they had been held to contain "peculiarly personal allusions?" If these are

not the Sonnets which circulated amongst Shakspere's "private friends," where are those Sonnets? Would Meres have spoken of them as calling to mind the sweetness of Ovid if only those published in 'The Passionate Pilgrim' had existed, many of which were "Verses to Music," afterwards printed as such? Why should those Sonnets only have been printed which contain, or are supposed to contain, "peculiar personal allusions?" The title-page of the collection of 1609 is 'Shake-speare's Sonnets.' We can only reconcile these matters with our belief that in 1609 were printed, without the cognizance of the author, all the Sonnets which could be

found attributed to Shakspere; that some of these formed a group of continuous poems; that some were detached; that no exact order could be preserved; and that accident has arranged them in the form in which they first were handed down to us.

If we have succeeded in producing satisfactory evidence that many of the Sonnets are not presented in a natural and proper order in the original edition,—if we have shown that there is occasionally not only a digression from the prevailing train of thought, by the introduction of an isolated Sonnet amongst a group, but a jarring and unmeaning interruption to that train of thought, we have established a case that the original arrangement is no part of the poet's work, because that arrangement violates the principles of art, which Shakspere clings to with such marvellous judgment in all his other productions. The inference, therefore, is that the author of the Sonnets did not sanction their publication-certainly did not superintend it. This, we think, may be proved by another course of argument. The edition of 1609, although, taken as a whole, not very inaccurate, is full of those typographical errors which invariably occur when a manuscript is put into the hands of a printer to deal with it as he pleases, without reference to the author, or to any competent editor, upon any doubtful points. Malone, in a note upon the 77th Sonnet, very truly says,

This, their, and thy are so often confounded in these Sonnets, that it is only by attending to the context that we can discover which was the author's word." He is speaking of the original edition. It is evident, therefore, that in the progress of the book through the press there was no one capable of deciphering the obscurity of the manuscript by a regard to the context. The manuscript, in all probability, was made up of a copy of copies; so that the printer even was not responsible for those errors which so clearly show the absence of a presiding mind in the conduct of the printing. Malone has suggested that these constantly recurring mistakes in the use of this, their, thy, and thine, probably originated in the words being

abbreviated in the manuscript, according to the custom of the time. But this species of mistake is by no means uniform. For example from the 43rd to the 48th Sonnet these errors occur with remarkable frequency; in one Sonnet, the 46th, this species of mistake happens four times. But we read on, and presently find that we may trust to the printed copy, which does not now violate the context. What can we infer from this, but that the separate poems were printed from different manuscripts in which various systems of writing were employed, some using abbreviations, some rejecting them? If the one poem, as the first hundred and twenty-six Sonnets are called, had been printed either from the author's manuscript, or from a uniform copy of the author's manuscript, such differences of systematic error in some places, and of systematic correctness in others, would have been very unlikely to have occurred. If the poem had been printed under the author's eye, their existence would have been impossible.

The theory that the first hundred and twenty-six Sonnets were a continuous poem, or poems, addressed to one person, and that a very young man-and that the greater portion of the remaining twenty-eight Sonnets had reference to a female, with whom there was an illicit attachment on the part of the poet and the young man-involves some higher difficulties, if it is assumed that the publication was authorized by the author, or by the person to whom they are held to be addressed. Could Shakspere, in 1609, authorize or sanction their publication? He was then living at Stratford, in the enjoyment of wealth; he was forty-five years of age: he was naturally desirous to associate with himself all those circumstances which constitute respectability of character. If the Sonnets had regard to actual circumstances connected with his previous career, would he, a husband, a father of two daughters, have authorized a publication so calculated to degrade him in the eyes of his family and his associates, if the verses could bear the construction now put upon them? We think not. On the other hand, did the one person to whom they

are held to be addressed sanction their publication? Would Lord Pembroke have suffered himself to be styled "W. H., the only begetter of these ensuing Sonnets ❞—plain Mr. W. H.-he, a nobleman, with all the pride of birth and rank about him-and represented in these poems as a man of licentious habits, and treacherous in his licentiousness? The Earl of Pembroke, in 1609, had attained great honours in his political and learned relations. In the first year of James I. he was made a Knight of the Garter; in 1605, upon a visit of James to Oxford, he received the degree of Master of Arts; in 1607 he was appointed Governor of Portsmouth; and, more than all these honours, he was placed in the highest station by public opinion; he was, as Clarendon describes, "the most universally beloved and esteemed of any man of that age." Was this the man, in his mature years, distinctly to sanction a publication which it was understood recorded his profligacy? He was of "excellent parts, and a graceful speaker upon any subject, having a good proportion of learning, and a ready wit to apply to it," says Clarendon. Is there in the Sonnets the slightest allusion to the talents of the one person to whom they are held to be addressed? If, then, the publication was not authorized, in either of the modes assumed, we have no warrant whatever for having regard to the original order of the Sonnets, and in assuming a continuity because of that order. What then is the alternative? That the Sonnets were a collection of "Sibylline leaves" rescued from the perishableness of their written state by some person who had access to the high and brilliant circle in which Shakspere was esteemed; and that this person's scrap-book, necessarily imperfect, and pretending to no order, found its way to the hands of a bookseller, who was too happy to give to that age what its most distinguished man had written at various periods, for his own amusement, and for the gratification of his "private friends.”

We subjoin, for the more ready information of those who may be disposed to ex

amine for themselves the question of the order of Shakspere's Sonnets (and it really is a question of great interest and rational curiosity), the results of the two opposite theories of their exhibiting almost perfect continuity, on the one hand; and of their being a mere collection of fragments, on the other. The one theory is illustrated with much ingenuity by Mr. Brown; the other was capriciously adopted by the editor of the collection of 1640.

MR. BROWN'S DIVISION INTO SIX POEMS. First Poem.-Stanzas i. to xxvi. To his Friend, persuading him to marry. Second Poem.-Stanzas xxvii. to lv. To his Friend, who had robbed him of his Mistress-forgiving him.

Third Poem.-Stanzas lvi. to lxxvii. To his Friend, complaining of his Coldness, and warning him of Life's Decay. Fourth Poem.-Stanzas lxxviii. to ci. To his Friend, complaining that he prefers another Poet's Praises, and reproving him for faults that may injure his cha

racter.

Fifth Poem.-Stanzas cii. to cxxvi. To his

Friend, excusing himself for having been sometimes silent, and disclaiming the charge of Inconstancy. Sixth Poem.-Stanzas cxxvii. to clii. To his Mistress, on her Infidelity.

ARRANGEMENT OF THE EDITION OF 164 ** In this arrangement the greater part

of the Poems of 'The Passionate Pilgrim' are blended, and are here marked P. P. In this collection the following Sonnets are not found: -18, 19, 43, 56, 75, 76, 96, 126. The Glory of Beauty. [67, 68, 69.] Injurious Time. [60, 63, 64, 65, 66.] True Admiration. [53, 54.] The Force of Love. [57, 58.] The Beauty of Nature. [59.] Love's Cruelty. [1, 2, 3] Youthful Glory. [13, 14, 15.] Good Admonition. [16, 17.] Quick Prevention. [7.] Magazine of Beauty. [4, 5, 6.]

An Invitation to Marriage. [8, 9, 10, 11, 12.]

False Belief. [138.]

A Temptation. [144.]
Fast and Loose. [P. P. 1.]
True Content. [21.]
A bashful Lover. [23.]
Strong Conceit. [22.]

A sweet Provocation. [P. P. 11.]
A constant Vow. [P. P. 3.]
The Exchange. [20.]
A Disconsolation. [27, 28, 29.]
Cruel Deceit. [P. P. 4.]

The Unconstant Lover. [P. P. 5.]
The Benefit of Friendship. [30, 31, 32]
Friendly Concord. [P. P. 6.]
Inhumanity. [P. P. 7.]

A Congratulation. [38, 39, 40.]
Loss and Gain. [41, 42.]
Foolish Disdain. [P. P. 9.]
Ancient Antipathy. [P. P. 10.]
Beauty's Valuation. [P. P. 11.]
Melancholy Thoughts. [44, 45.]
Love's Loss. [P. P. 8.]
Love's Relief. [33, 34, 35.]
Unanimity. [36, 37.]

Loth to Depart. [P. P. 12, 13.]
A Masterpiece. [24.]
Happiness in Content. [25.]
A Dutiful Message. [26.]
Go and come quickly. [50, 51.]
Two Faithful Friends. [46, 47.]
Careless Neglect. [48.]
Stout Resolution. [49.]
A Duel. [P. P. 14.]
Love-sick. [P. P. 15.]

Love's Labour Lost. [P. P. 16.]
Wholesome Counsel. [P. P. 17.]
Sat fuisse. [62.]

A living Monument. [55.]
Familiarity breeds Contempt. [52.]
Patiens Armatus. [61.]
A Valediction. [71, 72, 74.]
Nil magnis Invidia. [70.]
Love-sick. [80, 81.]

The Picture of true Love. [116.]
In Praise of his Love. [82, 83, 84, 85.]
A Resignation. [86, 87.]

Sympathizing Love. [P. P. 18.]

A Request to his Scornful Love. [88,

89, 90, 91.]

A Lover's Affection, though his Love
prove Unconstant. [92, 93, 94, 95.]
Complaint for his Lover's Absence.
98, 99.]

[97,

An Invocation to his Muse. [100, 101.]
Constant Affection. [104, 105, 106.]
Amazement. [102, 103.]

"There is extant a small volume of miscellaneous poems in which Shakspere expresses his feelings in his own person. It is not difficult to conceive that the editor, George Steevens, should have been insensible to the beauties of one portion of that volume, the Sonnets; though there is not a part

A Lover's Excuse for his long Absence. of the writings of this poet where is found, [109, 110.]

in an equal compass, a greater number of exquisite feelings felicitously expressed.

A Complaint. [111, 112.] Self-flattery of her Beauty. [113, 114, But, from regard to the critic's own credit, 115.] he would not have ventured to talk of an

A Trial of Love's Constancy. [117, 118, act of parliament not being strong enough 119.] to compel the perusal of these, or any pro

A good Construction of his Love's Un- duction of Shakspere, if he had not known kindness. [120.]

Error in Opinion. [121.]

that the people of England were ignorant of the treasures contained in those little

Upon the Receipt of a Table-Book from pieces." his Mistress. [122.]

A Vow. [123.]

Love's Safety. [124.]

An Entreaty for her Acceptance. [125.] Upon her playing upon the Virginals. [128.]

Immoderate Lust. [129.]

In praise of her Beauty, though Black.

[127, 130, 131, 132.]

Unkind Abuse. [133, 134.]

Love-suit. [135, 136.]

That ignorance has been removed; and no one has contributed more to its removal, by creating a school of poetry founded upon Truth and Nature, than Wordsworth himself. The critics of the last century have passed away :

"Peor and Baälim

Forsake their temples dim."

By the operation of what great sustaining principle is it that we have come back to

His Heart wounded by her Eye. [137, the just appreciation of "the treasures con

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tained in those little pieces"? The poet critic will answer :

"There never has been a period, and perhaps never will be, in which vicious poetry, of some kind or other, has not excited more zealous admiration, and been far more

Love's powerful Subtilty [148, 149, 150.] generally read, than good; but this advan

Retaliation. [78, 79.]

Sunset. [73, 77.]

A Monument to Fame. [107, 108.]
Perjury. [151, 152.]

Cupid's Treachery. [153, 154.]

Of the estimation in which Shakspere's 'Sonnets' were held some half century ago, the greatest of our Sonnet writers, Wordsworth, thus speaks :

tage attends the good, that the individual, as well as the species, survives from age to age: whereas, of the depraved, though the species be immortal, the individual quickly perishes; the object of present admiration vanishes, being supplanted by some other as easily produced, which, though no better, brings with it at least the irritation of novelty, with adaptation, more or less skilful, to the changing humours of the majority of those who are most at leisure to regard poetical works when they first solicit their attention. Is it the result of the whole, that, in the opinion of the writer, the judg

ment of the people is not to be respected? The thought is most injurious; and, could the charge be brought against him, he would repel it with indignation. The people have already been justified, and their eulogium pronounced by implication, when it is said above-that, of good poetry, the individual, as well as the species, survives. And how does it survive but through the people? what preserves it but their intellect and their wisdom ?

'Past and future are the wings On whose support, harmoniously conjoin'd, Moves the great spirit of human knowledge.' MS.

The voice that issues from this spirit is that vox populi which the Deity inspires. Foolish must he be who can mistake for this a local acclamation, or a transitory outcry-transitory, though it be for years; local, though from a nation! Still more lamentable is his error who can believe that there is anything of divine infallibility in the clamour of that small though loud portion of the community, ever governed by factitious infiuence, which, under the name of the PUBLIC, passes itself, upon the unthinking, for the PEOPLE."

It is the perpetual mistake of the public for the people that has led to the belief that there was a period when Shakspere was neglected. He was always in the heart of the people. There, in that deep rich soil, have the Sonnets rested during two centuries; and here and there in remote places have the seeds put forth leaves and flowers. All young imaginative minds now rejoice in their hues and their fragrance. But this preference of the fresh and beautiful of poetical life to the pot-pourri of the last age must be a regulated love. Those who, seeing the admiration which now prevails for these outpourings of "exquisite feelings felicitously expressed," talk of the 'Sonnets' as equal, if not superior, to the greatest of the poet's mighty dramas, compare things that admit of no comparison. Who would speak in the same breath of the gem of Cupid and Psyche, and of the Parthenon? In the 'Sonnets,' exquisite as they are, the poet goes not out of himself (at least in the form of the composition), and he walks, therefore, in a narrow circle of art. In the 'Venus and Adonis,' and the 'Lucrece,' the circle widens. But in the Dramas, the centre is the Human Soul, the circumference the Universe.

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