a memorial of their departed fellow, nor any member of his family, as a memento in his own handwriting of so distinguished a poet, their ancestor; and that not a single paper of his writing should have been handed down within the reach of any tradition. But nothing definite can be founded on an argument of this kind.

On the other hand, taking Francis Bacon for the author, we may suppose that the original manuscript copies would be kept a secret of his private cabinet; and that transcripts only in the handwriting of William Shakespeare would come to the knowledge of the players. The remark that he never blotted out a line would seem to imply that the manuscripts which they saw were in his handwriting, with which they must have been acquainted. After his death, it would become necessary for the real author to find some other cover for the purpose of publication. His fellowactors, Heming and Condell, might be selected to stand in his place as ostensible editors. Little more would be required than the use of their names. The dedication and preface would be written by the author himself: they have been supposed to have been written by Ben Jonson. The proof-sheets could be privately sent to his chambers in Bedford House, or in Gray's Inn, or the matter of proofreading may have been left to the printer. All this would imply that Heming and Condell became parties to the secret; in such case, they would feel no interest in the manuscripts; and the arrangement with them must have been made, if at all, as early as 1622, or soon after the date of Bacon's fall from the woolsack and his banishment to his books and private studies at Gorhambury, Bedford House, and Gray's Inn. The original manuscripts, of course, Bacon would take care to destroy, if determined that the secret should die with him.

We know from Bacon's will, that he directed his servant, Henry Percy, to deliver to his brother, Sir John Constable, all his manuscript compositions and fragments, to be pub

lished as he might see fit, taking "the advice of Mr. Selden and Mr. Herbert of the Inner Temple," and also desired his brother Constable and Sir William Boswell, presently after his decease, to take into their hands all his papers whatsoever," which are either in cabinets, boxes, or presses, and them to seal up until they may at their leisure peruse them." 1 It would seem probable that all these manuscripts and papers remained locked up for some fourteen months after his death, when letters of administration were granted to Sir Thomas Rich and Mr. Thomas Meautys, and that afterwards the greater part (at least) of the manuscripts came into the custody of Dr. Rawley, his former chaplain and secretary; though some of them appear to have been carried to Holland by Sir William Boswell, and placed in the hands of Isaac Gruter, who published a part of them at Amsterdam in 1653. Gruter's preface mentions certain moral and political pieces which were not published by him, and which, according to Mr. Spedding,2 remain to be accounted for, unless they were transferred to Dr. Rawley to be included in the Opuscula of 1658. As late as 1652–5, certain letters of Isaac Gruter state that there still remained, in the cabinet of Dr. Rawley, other manuscripts of the "Verulamian workmanship," which, being "committed to faithful privacy," were as yet" denied to the public." The actual character of these writings is not stated, but, from the whole tenor of the correspondence and the relations of the parties, it may be distinctly gathered that they were fragments of a philosophical, political, or moral nature in prose. There appears to be no ground whatever for any inference beyond this. Had the manuscripts of these plays been left in existence by Bacon, it is scarcely conceivable that we should never have heard of them, and that they should even have escaped the late thorough research of Mr. Spedding. He must have destroyed them before his 1 Baconiana, 203; Craik's Bacon, 223.

2 Preface, Works (Boston), V. 187–195.

death, if this theory be true: any other supposition would seem to be wholly inadmissible. Why he should desire such a secret to be buried with him, may be considered in another place at present, we must take the fact to be so.

On the whole, nothing is made to appear, out of this critical comparison of copies and this modern research into the history of the Folio, necessarily to exclude, or essentially to contradict, the hypothesis, that this Folio may have been published at the secret instance and under the general direction of Lord Bacon himself; though it must be confessed that greater negligence would seem to be exhibited in some parts of it than is consistent with our ideas, at this day, of that particular and especial care, which the exquisite taste and personal feeling of such an author would lead us to expect in such a work. The credit due to the Folio for authenticity must be increased in the same degree that it is rendered probable that it was printed in this manner; and it is very certain that Lord Bacon was exclusively engaged, at this very time, in contemplations and studies in close retirement, continuing his philosophical labors, completing his instaurations of all science, and carefully preparing for the press new and improved editions of works already published. He was thus sedulously endeavoring to put a fitting close to the labors of his life by carefully transmitting to posterity what he deemed worthy of preservation.

About the 22d of June, 1621, at the King's direction, he retired to his country-seat at Gorhambury, where he remained until sometime in the summer of 1622. On the 1st of September, 1621, he writes thus to Buckingham:"I am much fallen in love with a private life; but yet I shall so spend my time as shall not decay my abilities for In another letter from Gorhambury, dated February 3d, 1621-2,2 he expresses a desire to get back to Lon1 Letter, Works (Philad.), III. 135.

use.

2 It will be borne in mind that the year began, in those days, on the 25th of March, and not as now on the 1st day of January. Letter to Buckingham, Works (Philad.), III. 141.

a

don, where, as he says, "I could have helps at hand for my writings and studies, wherein I spend my time." In a memorandum made for an expected interview with the King, sometime in 1622, he writes thus:- "My story is proved: I may thank your Majesty; for I heard him note of Tasso, that he could know which poem he made when he was in good condition, and which when he was a beggar: I doubt he could make no such observation of me." Perhaps not, your lordship. During the autumn of 1622, his letters are dated from Bedford House, in London, and by the 8th of March, 1623, he had returned to his old lodgings in Gray's Inn. In a letter dated thence, March "Myself for quiet and the better to hold out, am retired to Gray's Inn; for when my chief friends were gone so far off, it was time for me to go to a cell." So Prospero, thrust from his dukedom, is again "master of a full poor cell," where,

22, 1622-3, he says:

"neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate To closeness,"

he is "wrapt in secret studies :

(Tempest, Act I. Sc. 2.)

"This cell's my court: here have I few attendants,

"2

And subjects none abroad: pray you look in." — Ib. Act V. Sc. 1. And in June, 1623, he writes to Mr. Tobie Matthew: "It is true my labors are now most set to have those works I had formerly published, as that of Advancement of Learning, that of Henry VII., that of the Essays, being retractate, and made more perfect, well translated into Latin by the help of some good pens, which forsake me not." " Of these "good pens " Ben Jonson was one, and George Herbert another. Again, in 1623, he writes to Prince Charles: "For Henry the VIII., to deal plainly with your highness, I did despair of my health this summer, as I was glad to choose some such work as I might compass within days; so far was I from entering into a work of

1 Letter to Cottington, Works (Mont.), XII. 439; (Philad.), III. 148. 2 Letter, Works (Philad.), III. 151.

length. It began like a fable of the poets; but it deserveth all in a piece a worthy narration." 1 In the thick crowding exigencies of this time, and in the long list of works given to the world during the five years next preceding his death, some explanation may be found, if it be required, for a somewhat negligent correction of the press, when these trifles " were in question.

Steevens and others have thought they could discover in the Dedication and Preface to the Folio some traces of the hand of Ben Jonson. But surely with more reason it may be said, that in the thought, style, and diction of both, there is exhibited the very soul of the real Shakespeare himself; as it were, ex pede Herculem. True, the story of the players in commendation of Shakespeare, that he never blotted out a line ("there never was a more groundless report," says Pope), is repeated in the Preface. But it is known that Ben Jonson was an intimate friend and great admirer of Bacon, and so fine a joke as this must have been for him would not fail to impress the mind of Bacon as well; for, as Ben Jonson tells us, he could with difficulty "spare or pass by a jest." Jonson also writes of "my gentle Shakespeare,"

"that he

Who casts to write a living line, must sweat,

(Such as thine are) and strike the second heat
Upon the Muses anvile."

And so, according to the Dedication and Preface, "Mr. William Shakespeare's Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies" he would see published from "the true original copies (which he would know to be such), and dedicated to that "Most Noble and Incomparable Paire of Brethren," the Earls of Pembroke and Montgomery, patrons of learning and of the theatre, his particular friends, before he also should take his departure, and not have "the fate to be executor of his own writings," though he could not "but 1 Letter, Ibid. 152-3.