Could such a poet always confine himself to the imitation of nature?
Will this poetical world which is going on in his brain never break
loose from the laws of the world of reality? Is he not powerful enough
to follow his own laws? He is; and the poetry of Shakespeare naturally
finds an outlet in the fantastical. This is the highest grade of
unreasoning and creative imagination. Despising ordinary logic, it
creates another; it unites facts and ideas in a new order, apparently
absurd, in reality regular; it lays open the land of dreams, and its
dreams seem to us the truth.
When we enter upon Shakespeare's comedies, and even his
half-dramas,[723] it is as though we met him on the threshold, like an
actor to whom the prologue is committed, to prevent misunderstanding on
the part of the public, and to tell them: "Do not take too seriously
what you are about to hear: I am amusing myself. My brain, being full of
fancies, desired to array them, and here they are. Palaces, distant
landscapes, transparent clouds which blot in the morning the horizon
with their gray mists, the red and glorious flames into which the
evening sun descends, white cloisters in endless vista through the
ambient air, grottos, cottages, the fantastic pageant of all human
passions, the irregular sport of unlooked-for adventures--this is the
medley of forms, colors, sentiments, which I let become entangled and
confused in my presence, a many-tinted skein of glistening silks, a
slender arabesque, whose sinuous curves, crossing and mingled, bewilder
the mind by the whimsical variety of their infinite complications. Don't
regard it as a picture. Don't look for a precise composition, a sole and
increasing interest, the skilful management of a well-ordered and
congruous plot. I have tales and novels before me which I am cutting up
into scenes. Never mind the _finis_, I am amusing myself on the road. It
is not the end of the journey which pleases me, but the journey itself.
Is there any need in going so straight and quick? Do you only care to
know whether the poor merchant of Venice will escape Shylock's knife?
Here are two happy lovers, seated under the palace walls on a calm
night; wouldn't you like to listen to the peaceful reverie which arises
like a perfume from the bottom of their hearts?"
"'How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
(_Enter musicians._)
Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn:
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear.
And draw her home with music.
_Jessica._ I am never merry when I hear sweet music.'"[724]
"Have I not the right, when I see the big laughing face of a clownish
servant, to stop near him, see him gesticulate, frolic, gossip, go
through his hundred pranks and his hundred grimaces, and treat myself to
the comedy of his spirit and gayety? Two fine gentlemen pass by. I hear
the rolling fire of their metaphors, and I follow their skirmish of wit.
Here in a corner is the artless arch face of a young wench. Do you
forbid me to linger by her, to watch her smiles, her sudden blushes, the
childish pout of her rosy lips, the coquetry of her pretty motions? You
are in a great hurry if the prattle of this fresh and musical voice
can't stop you. Is it no pleasure to view this succession of sentiments
and faces? Is your fancy so dull that you must have the mighty mechanism
of a geometrical plot to shake it? My sixteenth century playgoers were
easier to move. A sunbeam that had lost its way on an old wall, a
foolish song thrown into the middle of a drama, occupied their mind as
well as the blackest of catastrophes. After the horrible scene in which
Shylock brandished his butcher's knife before Antonio's bare breast,
they saw just as willingly the petty household wrangle, and the amusing
bit of raillery which ends the piece. Like soft moving water, their soul
rose and sank in an instant to the level of the poet's emotion, and
their sentiments readily flowed in the bed he had prepared for them.
They let him stray here and there on his journey, and did not forbid him
to make two voyages at once. They allowed several plots in one. If but
the slightest thread united them it was sufficient. Lorenzo eloped with
Jessica, Shylock was frustrated in his revenge, Portia's suitors failed
in the test imposed upon them; Portia, disguised as a doctor of laws,
took from her husband the ring which he had promised never to part with;
these three or four comedies, disunited, mingled, were shuffled and
unfolded together, like an unknotted skein in which threads of a hundred
colors are entwined. Together with diversity, my spectators allowed
improbability. Comedy is a slight winged creature, which flutters from
dream to dream, whose wings you would break if you held it captive in
the narrow prison of common-sense. Do not press its fictions too hard;
do not probe their contents. Let them float before your eyes like a
charming swift dream. Let the fleeting apparition plunge back into the
bright misty land from whence it came. For an instant it deluded you;
let it suffice. It is sweet to leave the world of realities behind you;
the mind rests amidst impossibilities. We are happy when delivered from
the rough chains of logic, to wander amongst strange adventures, to live
in sheer romance, and know that we are living there. I do not try to
deceive you, and make you believe in the world where I take you. A man
must disbelieve it in order to enjoy it. We must give ourselves up to
illusion, and feel that we are giving ourselves up to it. We must smile
as we listen. We smile in "The Winter's Tale" when Hermione descends
from her pedestal, and when, Leontes discovers his wife in the statue,
having believed her to be dead. We smile in "Cymbeline" when we see the
lone cavern in which the young princes have lived like savage hunters.
Improbability deprives emotions of their sting. The events interest or
touch us without making us suffer. At the very moment when sympathy is
too intense, we remind ourselves that it is all a fancy. They become
like distant objects, whose distance softens their outline, and wraps
them in a luminous veil of blue air. Your true comedy is an opera. We
listen to sentiments without thinking too much of plot. We follow the
tender or gay melodies without reflecting that they interrupt the
action. We dream elsewhere on hearing music; here I bid you dream on
hearing verse."
Then the speaker of the prologue retires, and the actors come on.
"As You Like It" is a caprice.[725] Action there is none; interest
barely; likelihood still less. And the whole is charming. Two cousins,
princes' daughters, come to a forest with a court clown, Celia disguised
as a shepherdess, Rosalind as a boy. They find here the old duke,
Rosalind's father, who, driven out of his duchy, lives with his friends
like a philosopher and a hunter. They find amorous shepherds, who with
songs and prayers pursue intractable shepherdesses. They discover or
they meet with lovers who become their husbands. Suddenly it is
announced that the wicked Duke Frederick, who had usurped the crown, has
just retired to a cloister, and restored the throne to the old exiled
duke. Everyone gets married, everyone dances, everything ends with a
"rustic revelry." Where is the pleasantness of these puerilities? First,
the fact of its being puerile; the absence of the serious is refreshing;
There are no events, and there is no plot. We gently follow the easy
current of graceful or melancholy emotions, which takes us away and
moves us about without wearying. The place adds to the illusion and
charm. It is an autumn forest, in which the sultry rays permeate the
blushing oak leaves, or the half-stripped, ashes tremble and smile to
the feeble breath of evening. The lovers wander by brooks that "brawl"
under antique roots. As you listen to them you see the slim birches,
whose cloak of lace grows glossy under the slant rays of the sun that
gilds them, and the thoughts wander down the mossy vistas in which their
footsteps are not heard. What better place could be chosen for the
comedy of sentiment and the play of heart-fancies? Is not this a fit
spot in which to listen to love-talk? Someone has seen Orlando,
Rosalind's lover, in this glade; she hears it and blushes. "Alas the
day!... What did he, when thou sawest him? What said he? How looked he?
Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains
he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see him again?" Then,
with a lower voice, somewhat hesitating: "Looks he as freshly as he did
the day he wrestled?" She is not yet exhausted: "Do you not know I am a
woman? When I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on."[726] One question
follows another, she closes the mouth of her friend, who is ready to
answer. At every word she jests, but agitated, blushing, with a forced
gayety; her bosom heaves, and her heart beats. Nevertheless she is
calmer when Orlando comes; bandies words with him; sheltered under her
disguise, she makes him confess that he loves Rosalind. Then she plagues
him, like the frolic, the wag, the coquette she is. "Why, how now,
Orlando, where have you been all this while? You a lover?" Orlando
repeats that he loves Rosalind, and she pleases herself by making him
repeat it more than once. She sparkles with wit, jests, mischievous
pranks; pretty fits of anger, feigned sulks, bursts of laughter,
deafening babble, engaging caprices. "Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am
in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me
now, an I were your very, very Rosalind?" And every now and then she
repeats with an arch smile, "And I am your Rosalind; am I not your
Rosalind?"[727] Orlando protests that he would die. Die! Who ever
thought of dying for love? Leander? He took one bath too many in the
Hellespont; so poets have said he died for love. Troilus? A Greek broke
his head with a club; so poets have said he died for love. Come, come,
Rosalind will be softer. And then she plays at marriage with him, and
makes Celia pronounce the solemn words. She irritates and torments her
pretended husband; tells him all the whims she means to indulge in, all
the pranks she will play, all the teasing he will have to endure. The
retorts come one after another like fireworks. At every phrase we follow
the looks of these sparkling eyes, the curves of this laughing mouth,
the quick movements of this supple figure. It is a bird's petulance and
volubility. "O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know
how many fathom deep I am in love." Then she provokes her cousin Celia,
sports with her hair, calls her by every woman's name. Antitheses
without end, words all a-jumble, quibbles, pretty exaggerations,
word-racket; as you listen, you fancy it is the warbling of a
nightingale. The trill of repeated metaphors, the melodious roll of the
poetical gamut, the summer-warbling rustling under the foliage, change
the piece into a veritable opera. The three lovers end by chanting a
sort of trio. The first throws out a fancy, the others take it up. Four
times this strophe is renewed; and the symmetry of ideas, added to the
jingle of the rhymes, makes of a dialogue a concerto of love:
"_Phebe._ Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.
_Silvius._ It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
And so am I for Phebe.
_P._ And I for Ganymede.
_Orlando._ And I for Rosalind.
_Rosalind._ And I for no woman....
_S._ It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty, and observance,
All humbleness, all patience and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance;
And so I am for Phebe.
_P._ And so am I for Ganymede.
_O._ And so am I for Rosalind.
_R._ And so am I for no woman."[728]
The necessity of singing is so urgent that a minute later songs break
out of themselves. The prose and the conversation end in lyric poetry.
We pass straight on into these odes. We do not find ourselves in a new
country. We feel the emotion and foolish gayety as if it were a holiday.
We see the graceful couple whom the song of the two pages brings before
us, passing in the misty light "o'er the green corn-field," amid the hum
of sportive insects, on the finest day of the flowering spring-time.
Unlikelihood grows natural, and we are not astonished when we see Hymen
leading the two brides by the hand to give them to their husbands.
Whilst the young folk sing, the old folk talk. Their life also is a
novel, but a sad one. Shakespeare's delicate soul, bruised by the shocks
of social life, took refuge in contemplations of solitary life. To
forget the strife and annoyances of the world, he must bury himself in a
wide silent forest, and
"Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Loose and neglect the creeping hours of time."[729]
We look at the bright images which the sun carves on the white
beech-boles, the shade of trembling leaves flickering on the thick moss,
the long waves of the summit of the trees; then the sharp sting of care
is blunted; we suffer no more, simply remembering that we suffered once;
we feel nothing but a gentle misanthropy, and being renewed, we are the
better for it. The old duke is happy in his exile. Solitude has given
him rest, delivered him from flattery, reconciled him to nature. He
pities the stags which he is obliged to hunt for food:
"Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches gored."[730]
Nothing sweeter than this mixture of tender compassion, dreamy
philosophy, delicate sadness, poetical complaints, and rustic songs. One
of the lords sings:
"Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly."[731]
Amongst these lords is found a soul that suffers more, Jacques the
melancholy, one of Shakespeare's best-loved characters, a transparent
mask behind which we perceive the face of the poet. He is sad because he
is tender; he feels the contact of things too keenly, and what leaves
others indifferent, makes him weep.[732] He does not scold, he is sad;
he does not reason, he is moved; he has not the combative spirit of a
reforming moralist; his soul is sick and weary of life. Impassioned
imagination leads quickly to disgust. Like opium, it excites and
shatters. It leads man to the loftiest philosophy, then lets him down to
the whims of a child. Jacques leaves other men abruptly, and goes to the
quiet nooks to be alone. He loves his sadness, and would not exchange it
for joy. Meeting Orlando, he says:
"Rosalind is your love's name?
_Orlando._ Yes, just.
_Jacques._ I do not like her name."[733]
He has the fancies of a nervous woman. He is scandalized because Orlando
writes sonnets on the forest trees. He is eccentric, and finds subjects
of grief and gayety where others would see nothing of the sort:
"A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest,
A motley fool; a miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool;
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms and yet a motley fool...."
Jacques hearing him moralize in such a manner begins to laugh "sans
intermission" that a fool could be so meditative:
"O noble fool; a worthy fool! Motley's the only wear....
O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat."[734]
The next minute he returns to his melancholy dissertations, bright
pictures whose vivacity explains his character, and betrays Shakespeare,
hiding under his name:
"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
In second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."[735]
"As you Like it" is a half dream. "Midsummer Night's Dream" is a
complete one.
The scene, buried in the far-off mist of fabulous antiquity, carries us
back to Theseus, Duke of Athens, who is preparing his palace for his
marriage with the beautiful queen of the Amazons. The style, loaded with
contorted images, fills the mind with strange and splendid visions, and
the airy elf-world divert the comedy into the fairy-land from whence it
sprung.
Love is still the theme: of all sentiments, is it not the greatest
fancy-weaver? But love is not heard here in the charming, prattle of
Rosalind; it is glaring, like the season of the year. It does not brim
over in slight conversations, in supple and skipping prose; it breaks
forth into big rhyming odes, dressed in magnificent metaphors, sustained
by impassioned accents, such as a warm night, odorous and star-spangled,
inspires in a poet and a lover. Lysander and Hermia agree to meet.
"_Lysander._ To-morrow night when Phoebe doth behold
Her silver visage in the watery glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,
Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal.
_Hermia._ And in the wood, where often you and I
Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie....
There my Lysander and myself shall meet."[736]
They get lost, and fall asleep, wearied, under the trees. Puck squeezes
in the youth's eyes the juice of a magic flower, and changes his heart.
Presently, when he awakes, he will become enamored of the first woman he
sees. Meanwhile Demetrius, Hermia's rejected lover, wanders with Helena,
whom he rejects, in the solitary wood. The magic flower changes him in
turn, he now loves Helena. The lovers flee and pursue one another,
beneath the lofty trees, in the calm night. We smile at their
transports, their complaints, their ecstasies, and yet we join in them.
This passion is a dream, and yet it moves us: It is like those airy webs
which we find at morning on the crest of the hedgerows where the dew has
spread them, and whose weft sparkles like a jewel-casket. Nothing can be
more fragile, and nothing more graceful. The poet sports with emotions;
he mingles, confuses, redoubles, interweaves them; he twines and
untwines these loves like the mazes of a dance, and we see the noble and
tender figures pass by the verdant bushes, beneath the radiant eyes of
the stars, now wet with tears, now bright with rapture. They have the
abandonment of true love, not the grossness of sensual love. Nothing
causes us to fall from the ideal world in which Shakespeare conducts us.
Dazzled by beauty, they adore it, and the spectacle of their happiness,
their emotion, and their tenderness, is a kind of enchantment.
Above these two couples flutters and hums the swarm of elves and
fairies. They also love. Titania, their queen, has a young boy for her
favorite, son of an Indian king, of whom Oberon, her husband, wishes to
deprive her. They quarrel, so that the elves creep for fear into the
acorn cups, in the golden primroses. Oberon, by way of vengeance,
touches Titania's sleeping eyes with the magic flower, and thus on
waking the nimblest and most charming of the fairies finds herself
enamored of a stupid blockhead with an ass's head. She kneels before
him; she sets on his "hairy temples a coronet of fresh and fragrant
flowers":
"And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty floweret's eyes,
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail."[737]
She calls round her all her fairy attendants;
"Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes....
Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye;
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently."[738]
It was necessary, for her love brayed horribly, and to all the offers of
Titania, replied with a petition for hay. What can be sadder and sweeter
than this irony of Shakespeare? What raillery against love, and what
tenderness for love! The sentiment is divine; its object unworthy. The
heart is ravished, the eyes blind. It is a golden butterfly, fluttering
in the mud; and Shakespeare, whilst painting its misery, preserves all
its beauty:
"Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy....
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms....
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Gently entwist; the female ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee!"[739]
At the return of morning, when
"The eastern gate, all fiery red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams,"[740]
the enchantment ceases, Titania awakes on her couch of wild thyme and
drooping violets. She drives the monster away; her recollections of the
night are effaced in a vague twilight:
"These things seem small and undistinguishable,
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds."[741]
And the fairies
"Go seek some dew drops here
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear."[742]
Such is Shakespeare's fantasy, a slight tissue of bold inventions, of
ardent passions, melancholy mockery, dazzling poetry, such as one of
Titania's elves would have made. Nothing could be more like the poet's
mind than these nimble genii, children of air and flame, whose flights
"compass the globe" in a second, who glide over the foam of the waves
and skip between the atoms of the winds. Ariel flies, an invisible
songster, around shipwrecked men to console them, discovers the thoughts
of traitors, pursues the savage beast Caliban, spreads gorgeous visions
before lovers, and does all in a lightning-flash:
"Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip's bell I lie....
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough....
I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat."[743]
Shakespeare glides over things on as swift a wing, by leaps as sudden,
with a touch as delicate.
What a soul! what extent of action, and what sovereignty of an unique
faculty! what diverse creations, and what persistence of the same
impress! There they all are united, and all marked by the same sign,
void of will and reason, governed by mood, imagination, or pure passion,
destitute of the faculties contrary to those of the poet, dominated by
the corporeal type which his painter's eyes have conceived, endowed by
the habits of mind and by the vehement sensibility which he finds in
himself.[744] Go through the groups, and you will only discover in them
divers forms and divers states of the same power. Here, a herd of
brutes, dotards, and gossips, made up of a mechanical imagination;
further on, a company of men of wit, animated by a gay and foolish
imagination; then, a charming swarm of women whom their delicate
imagination raises so high, and their self-forgetting love carries so
far; elsewhere a band of villains, hardened by unbridled passions,
inspired by artistic rapture; in the centre a mournful train of grand
characters, whose excited brain is filled with sad or criminal visions,
and whom an inner destiny urges to murder, madness, or death. Ascend one
stage, and contemplate the whole scene: the aggregate bears the same
mark as the details. The drama reproduces promiscuously uglinesses,
basenesses, horrors, unclean details, profligate and ferocious manners,
the whole reality of life just as it is, when it is unrestrained by
decorum, common-sense, reason, and duty. Comedy, led through a
phantasmagoria of pictures, gets lost in the likely and the unlikely,
with no other connection but the caprice of an amused imagination,
wantonly disjointed and romantic, an opera without music, a concerto of
melancholy and tender sentiments, which bears the mind into the
supernatural world, and brings before our eyes on its fairy-wings the
genius which has created it. Look now. Do you not see the poet behind
the crowd of his creations? They have heralded his approach. They have
all shown somewhat of him. Ready, impetuous, impassioned, delicate, his
genius is pure imagination, touched more vividly and by slighter things
than ours. Hence his style, blooming with exuberant images, loaded with
exaggerated metaphors, whose strangeness is like incoherence, whose
wealth is superabundant, the work of a mind, which, at the least
incitement, produces too much and takes too wide leaps. Hence this
involuntary psychology, and this terrible penetration, which
instantaneously perceiving all the effects of a situation, and all the
details of a character, concentrates them in every response, and gives
to a figure a relief and a coloring which create illusion. Hence our
emotion and tenderness. We say to him, as Desdemona to Othello: "I love
thee for the battles, sieges, fortunes thou hast passed, and for the
distressful stroke that thy youth suffered."
[Footnote 587: Halliwell's "Life of Shakespeare."]
[Footnote 588: Born 1564, died 1616. He adapted plays as early as 1591.
The first play entirely from his pen appeared in 1593.--Payne Collier.]
[Footnote 589: Mr. Halliwell and other commentators try to prove that at
this time the preliminary trothplight was regarded as the real marriage;
that this trothplight had taken place, and that there was therefore no
irregularity in Shakespeare's conduct.]
[Footnote 590: Halliwell, 123.]
[Footnote 591: All these anecdotes are traditions, and consequently more
or less doubtful; but the other facts are authentic.]
[Footnote 592: Terms of an extant document. He is named along with Burbage
and Greene.]
[Footnote 593: Sonnet 110.]
[Footnote 594: See Sonnets 91 and 111; also "Hamlet," III. 2. Many of
Hamlet's words would come better from the mouth of an actor than a
prince. See also the 66th Sonnet, "Tired with all these."]
[Footnote 595: Sonnet 29.]
[Footnote 596: "Hamlet," III. 1.]
[Footnote 597: Sonnet 111.]
[Footnote 598: Anecdote written in 1602 on the authority of Tooley the
actor.]
[Footnote 599: The Earl of Southampton was nineteen years old when
Shakespeare dedicated his "Adonis" to him.]
[Footnote 600: See Titian's picture. Loves of the Gods, at Blenheim.]
[Footnote 601: "Venus and Adonis," lines 548-553.]
[Footnote 602: Ibid. lines 55-60.]
[Footnote 603: Ibid, lines 853-858.]
[Footnote 604: Compare the first pieces of Alfred de Musset, "Contes
d'Italie et d'Espagne."]
[Footnote 605: Crawley, quoted by Ph. Chasles, "Études sur Shakspeare."]
[Footnote 606: A famed French courtesan (1613-1650), the heroine of a
drama of that name, by Victor Hugo, having for its subject-matter:
"Love purifies everything."--Tr.]
[Footnote 607: Sonnet 138.]
[Footnote 608: Two characters in Molière's "Misanthrope." The scene
referred to is Act V. Scene 7.--Tr.]
[Footnote 609: Sonnet 142.]
[Footnote 610: Sonnet 95.]
[Footnote 611: Sonnet 98.]
[Footnote 612: Ibid.]
[Footnote 613: Sonnet 99.]
[Footnote 614: Sonnet 151.]
[Footnote 615: Sonnet 151.]
[Footnote 616: Sonnet 144; also the "Passionate Pilgrim," 2.]
[Footnote 617: This new interpretation of the Sonnets is due to the
ingenious and learned conjectures of M. Ph. Chasles.--For a short history
of these Sonnets, see Dyce's "Shakspeare," I. pp. 96-102. This learned
editor says: "I contend that allusions scattered through the whole series
are not to be hastily referred to the personal circumstances of
Shakspeare."--Tr.]
[Footnote 618: Miranda, Desdemona, Viola. The following are the first
words of the Duke in "Twelfth Night":
"If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet
south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odor! Enough;
no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh
art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters
there.
Of what validity and pitch soever,
But falls into abatement and low price.
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is
fancy
That it alone is high-fantastical."]
[Footnote 619: H. Chettle, in repudiating Greene's sarcasm, attributed
it to him.]
[Footnote 620: Dyce, "Shakespeare," I. 27: "Of French and Italian, I
apprehend, he knew but little."--Tr.]
[Footnote 621: Sonnet 29.]
[Footnote 622: Sonnet 73.]
[Footnote 623: Sonnet 71.]
[Footnote 624: The part in which he excelled was that of the ghost in
"Hamlet."]
[Footnote 625: Greene's "A Groatsworth of Wit," etc.]
[Footnote 626: "He was a respectable man. A good word; what does it
mean? He kept a gig."--From Thurtell's trial for the murder of Weare.]
[Footnote 627: The model of an optimist, the hero of one of Voltaire's
tales.--Tr.]
[Footnote 628: See his portraits, and in particular his bust.]
[Footnote 629: Especially in his later plays: "Tempest, Twelfth Night."]
[Footnote 630: "Hamlet," III. 3.]
[Footnote 631: Act III. Scene 4.]
[Footnote 632: Act III. Scene 4.]
[Footnote 633: This is why, in the eyes of a writer of the seventeenth
century, Shakespeare's style is the most obscure, pretentious, painful,
barbarous, and absurd, that could be imagined.]
[Footnote 634: Shakespeare's vocabulary is the most copious of all. It
comprises about 15,000 words; Milton's only 8,000.]
[Footnote 635: See the conversation of Laertes and his sister, and of
Laertes and Polonius, in "Hamlet." The style is foreign to the situation;
and we see here plainly the natural and necessary process of
Shakespeare's thought.]
[Footnote 636: "Winter's Tale," I. 2.]
[Footnote 637: One of Molière's characters in "Tartuffe."--Tr.]
[Footnote 638: "Romeo and Juliet," III. 5.]
[Footnote 639: "Henry VIII," II. 3, and many other scenes.]
[Footnote 640: "Much Ado about Nothing." See also the manner in which
Henry V in Shakespeare's "King Henry V" pays court to Katharine of
France (V. 2).]
[Footnote 641: Ibid. II. 1.]
[Footnote 642: Act IV. 2.]
[Footnote 643: Second part of "Henry VI," IV. 6.]
[Footnote 644: "Henry VI," 2d part, IV. 2, 6, 7.]
[Footnote 645: "King Lear," III. 7.]
[Footnote 646: "The Tempest," IV. 1.]
[Footnote 647: See "Troilus and Cressida," II. 3, the jesting manner in
which the generals drive on this fierce brute.]
[Footnote 648: "Cymbeline," II. 3.]
[Footnote 649: Ibid. III. 5.]
[Footnote 650: "Romeo and Juliet," I. 3.]
[Footnote 651: "Romeo and Juliet," II. 5.]
[Footnote 652: Ibid. III. 5.]
[Footnote 653: "Romeo and Juliet," II. 4.]
[Footnote 654: "Much Ado about Nothing," II. 1.]
[Footnote 655: "Romeo and Juliet," II. 1.]
[Footnote 656: Ibid. I. 4.]
[Footnote 657: "Romeo and Juliet," I. 4.]
[Footnote 658: First part of "King Henry IV," III. 3.]
[Footnote 659: First Part of "King Henry IV," IV. 2.]
[Footnote 660: Ibid. II. 4.]
[Footnote 661: "Othello," III. 3.]
[Footnote 662: Ibid.]
[Footnote 663: Ibid.]
[Footnote 664: "Othello," III. 3.]
[Footnote 665: "Cymbeline," III. 5.]
[Footnote 666: "Coriolanus," I. 3.]
[Footnote 667: Ibid.]
[Footnote 668: "Romeo and Juliet," I. 5.]
[Footnote 669: "The Tempest," III. 1.]
[Footnote 670: "King Lear," IV. 7.]
[Footnote 671: "O ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods
Requite your love!
If that I could for weeping, you should hear--
Nay, and you shall hear some....
I'll tell thee what; yet go:
Nay but thou shalt stay too: I would my son
Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,
His good sword in his hand."--Coriolanus, IV. 2.
See again, "Coriolanus," I. 3, the frank and abandoned triumph of a woman
of the people, "I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a
man-child than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man."]
[Footnote 672: Ibid. I. 3.]
[Footnote 673: "Othello," II. 3.]
[Footnote 674: Ibid. II. 1.]
[Footnote 675: "Othello," II. 1.]
[Footnote 676: Ibid. IV. 1.]
[Footnote 677: See the like cynicism and scepticism in Richard III. Both
begin by slandering human nature, and both are misanthropical of malice
prepense.]
[Footnote 678: "Othello," II. 3.]
[Footnote 679: See his conversation with Brabantio, then with Roderigo,
Act I.]
[Footnote 680: See again, in Timon, and Hotspur more particularly,
perfect examples of vehement and unreasoning imagination.]
[Footnote 681: "Coriolanus," I. 9.]
[Footnote 682: Ibid. I. 6.]
[Footnote 683: Ibid. I. 9.]
[Footnote 684: "Coriolanus," I. 9.]
[Footnote 685: Ibid.]
[Footnote 686: Ibid. II. 3.]
[Footnote 687: Ibid. II. 1.]
[Footnote 688: "Coriolanus," III. 1.]
[Footnote 689: Ibid.]
[Footnote 690: Ibid.]
[Footnote 691: Ibid. III. 2.]
[Footnote 692: "Coriolanus," III. 3.]
[Footnote 693: Ibid.]
[Footnote 694: Ibid.]
[Footnote 695: Ibid. V. 2.]
[Footnote 696: "Macbeth," I. 3.]
[Footnote 697: Ibid. II. 1.]
[Footnote 698: "Macbeth," II. 2.]
[Footnote 699: Ibid.]
[Footnote 700: Ibid.]
[Footnote 701: Ibid. II. 3.]
[Footnote 702: "Macbeth," II. 3.]
[Footnote 703: Ibid. III. 4.]
[Footnote 704: Ibid. III. 2.]
[Footnote 705: "Macbeth," III. 4.]
[Footnote 706: Ibid. IV. 3.]
[Footnote 707: "Macbeth," V. 5.]
[Footnote 708: Goethe, "Wilhelm Meister."]
[Footnote 709: "Hamlet," I. 2.]
[Footnote 710: Ibid. I. 5.]
[Footnote 711: "Hamlet," I. 5.]
[Footnote 712: Ibid. III. 2.]
[Footnote 713: "Hamlet," II, 2.]
[Footnote 714: Ibid. III, 1.]
[Footnote 715: Ibid. IV. 3.]
[Footnote 716: "Hamlet," V. 1.]
[Footnote 717: A French physician (1772-1844), celebrated for his
endeavors to improve the treatment of the insane.--Tr.]
[Footnote 718: "Twelfth Night, As You Like it, Tempest, Winter's
Tale," etc., "Cymbeline, Merchant of Venice," etc.]
[Footnote 719: "Merchant of Venice," V. 1.]
[Footnote 720: In English, a word is wanting to express the French
"fantaisie" used by M. Taine, in describing this scene: what in music
is called a capriccio. Tennyson calls the "Princess" a medley, but it
is ambiguous.--Tr.]
[Footnote 721: "As You Like It," III. 2.]
[Footnote 722: Ibid. IV. 1.]
[Footnote 723: "As You Like It," V, 2.]
[Footnote 724: "As You Like It," II. 7.]
[Footnote 725: Ibid. II. 1.]
[Footnote 726: Ibid. II. 7.]
[Footnote 727: Compare Jacques with the Alceste of Molière. It is
the contrast between a misanthrope through reasoning and one through
imagination.]
[Footnote 728: "As You Like It," III. 2.]
[Footnote 729: Ibid. II. 7.]
[Footnote 730: "As You Like It," II. 7.]
[Footnote 731: "Midsummer Night's Dream," I. 1.]
[Footnote 732: "Midsummer Night's Dream," IV. 1.]
[Footnote 733: "Midsummer Night's Dream," III. 1.]
[Footnote 734: Ibid. IV. 1.]
[Footnote 735: Ibid. III. 2.]
[Footnote 736: Ibid. IV. 1.]
[Footnote 737: "Midsummer Night's Dream," II. 1.]
[Footnote 738: "Tempest," V. 1.]
[Footnote 739: There is the same law in the organic and in the moral
world. It is what Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire calls unity of composition.]
INDEX
_The Roman Numerals Refer to the Volumes.--The Arabic Figures to the Pages
of Each Volume._
Abelard, I. 158, 160
Addison, Joseph, II. 265, 292, 300, 311;
his life and writings, 327-359; III. 83,
95, 259, 272, 280, 306
Adhelm, I. 58, see footnote 89, 69, 70, 185
Agriculture, improvement in, in sixteenth
century, I. 172; in the nineteenth,
III. 43, 168
Akenside, Mark, III. 36
Alcuin, I. 64, 70
Alexander VI, Pope, II. 5
Alexandrian philosophy, I. 21, see footnote 5
Alfred the Great, I. 64, 69
Alison, Sir Archibald, III. 44
Amory, Thomas, II. 438
Angelo, Michel, I. 183, 366; III. 27
Anglo-Saxon poetry, I. 53
Ann of Cleaves, I. 186
Anselm, I. 76
Anthology the, I. 209, 240
Arbuthnot, Dr. John, II. 381
Architecture, Norman, I. 75, 127; the
Tudor style, 174
Ariosto, I. 185, 222, see footnote 360, see footnote 366; II. 236
Aristocracy British, in the nineteenth
century, III. 169 seq.
Arkwright, Sir Richard, II. 320
Armada, the I. 173, 279
Arnold, Dr. Thomas, III. 100, 178
Arthur and Merlin, romance of, I. 77
Ascham, Roger, I. 181, 246, see footnote 288; II. 3
Athelstan, I. 36, 54
Augier, Emile, III. 208
Austen, Jane, III. 85
Bacon, Francis, Lord, I. 245, 255, see footnote 384; II.
34, 39; III. 268 seq. 284
Bacon, Roger, I. 161
Bain, Alexander, III. 185
Bakewell, Robert, II. 320
Bale, John, I. 186
Balzac, Honoré de, I. 3; III. 215, 254
Barclay, Alexander, I. 165
Barclay, John, II. 292
Barclay, Robert, I. 58
Barrow, Isaac, II. 292, 295 seq.
Baxter, Richard, I. 268; II. 56, 292
Bayly's (Lewis) Practice of Piety, II. 62
Beattie, Tames, II. 440; III. 36
Beauclerk, Henry, I. 76
Beaumont, Francis, I. 291, see footnote 421, see footnote 423,
see footnote 459, see footnote 490, see footnote 494,
see footnote 495, see footnote 497, see footnote 506,
see footnote 509, see footnote 512;
II. 41, 45, 100
Becket, Thomas à, I. 97
Beckford, W., III. 77
Bede, the Venerable, I. 64, see footnote 18, see footnote 69
see footnote 73, see footnote 88, see footnote 89
Bedford, Duke of (John Russell), II. 310
Beethovan, Lewis van, III. 87
Behn, Mrs. Aphra, II. 157, 254
Bell, Currer. See Brontë, Charlotte
Bénoit de Sainte-Maure, I. 76
Bentham, Jeremy, II. 320
Bently, Richard, II. 303
Beowolf, an Anglo-Saxon epic poem, I.
49
Béranger, II. 11; III. 287
Berkeley, Bishop, II. 303
Berkley, Sir Charles, II. 141
Berners, Lord, I. 186
Best, Paul, II. 50
Bible, English. See Wiclif, Tyndale
Blackmore, Sir Richard, II. 224
Blount, Edward, I. 192
Boccaccio, I. 126, 132; II. 266
Bodley, Sir Thomas, I. 246
Boethius, I. 64, see footnote 90
Boileau, II. 144, 184, 224, 262, 284; III. 7,
4, 345
Boleyn, Ann, I. 276
Bolingbroke, Lord (Henry St. John), II.
275, 303; III. 8
Bonner, Edmund, II. 33
Borde, Andrew, I. 186
Borgia, Cæsar, II. 5, 6
Borgia, Lucretia, I. 182; II. 5
Bossu (or Lebossu), II. 224
Bossuet, I. 18; II. 233; III. 25, 306
Boswell, James, II. 444 seq.
Bourchier. See Berners
Boyle, the Hon. Robert, II. 303
Bridaine, Father, II. 298
Britons, ancient, I. 38
Brontë, Charlotte (Currer Bell), III. 85,
100, 185
Browne, Sir Thomas, I. 245, 246, 252,
see footnote 382, see footnote 383; II. 34, 39
Browning, Mrs., III. 100, 185
Brunanburh, Athelstan's victory at, celebrated
in Saxon song, I. 54
Buckingham, Duke of (John Sheffield),
II. 153, 180, 184
Buckle, Henry Thomas, III. 154 seq., 176
Bulwer, Sir Henry Lytton, III. 85, 185
Bunyan, John, II. 58-70, 133
Burke, Edmund, II. 303, 317-326, 444; III.
286, 306
Burleigh, Lord (William Cecil), I. see footnote 407;
III. 286
Burnet, Bishop, II. 202
Burney, Francisca (Madame D'Arblay),
II. 283, 320, 444; III. 275
Burns, Robert, II. 251; Sketch of his life
and works, III. 48-65
Burton, Robert, I. see footnote 277, 248; II. 34, 100
Busby, Dr. Richard, II. 256
Bute, Lord, II. 273 seq., 310
Butler, Bishop, II. 320
Butler, Samuel, II. 137-140, 303
Byng, Admiral, II. 310
Byron, Lord, III. 11; his life and works,
102-151
Cædmon, hymns of, I. 57, 61; his metrical
paraphrase of parts of the Bible,
see footnote 83, 61, 185
Calamy, Edmund, II. 58
Calderon, I. 161, 279; II. 155
Calvin, John, II. 11, 45, 301
Camden, William, I. 246
Campbell, Thomas, III. 76, 112
Carew, Thomas, I. 238
Carlyle, Thomas, I. 6; III. 100, 176; style
and mind, 308 seq.; vocation, 327 seq.;
philosophy, morality, and criticism,
336 seq.; conception of history, 348
Carteret, John (Earl Granville), II. 311
Castlereagh, Lord, I. see footnote 514
Catherine, St., play of, I. 76
Cellini, Benvenuto, I. 26, see footnote 169, see footnote 290
see footnote 292, see footnote 293, see footnote 409
Cervantes, I. 100, see footnote 360, 222; II. 410
Chalmers, George, I. see footnote 95, see footnote 345, see footnote 346
Chandos, Duke of (John Brydges), III. 8
Chapman, George, I. 330
Charles of Orleans, I. 84, 158
Charles I of England, III. 276
Charles II and his court, II. 140 seq.
Chateaubriand, I. 4; II. 346
Chatham. See Pitt
Chaucer, I. 106, 126, 155, see footnote 153; II. 265
Chesterfield, Lord, II. 278 seq., 444; III. 15
Chevy Chase, ballad of, I. 125
Chillingworth, William, I. 245; II. 35, 38,
300
Christianity, introduction of, into Britain,
I. 56, 63 seq.
Chroniclers, French, I. 83
Chroniclers, Saxon, I. 68
Cibber, Colley, III. 8, 17
Cimbrians, the, I. 41
Clarendon, Lord Chancellor (Edward
Hyde), I. 245; II. 140
Clarke, Dr. John, II. 289, 301
Classic spirit in Europe, its origin and
nature, II. 170-173
Classical authors translated, I. 180, 190
Clive, Lord, III. 272
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, III. 73
Collier, Jeremy, II. 225, 256
Collins, William, III. 37
Colman, George, II. 220
Comedy-writers, English, II. 188 seq.
Comines, Philippe de, I. 124
Commerce in sixteenth century, I. 172;
III. 165 seq.
Comte, Auguste, III. 362
Condillac, Stephen-Bonnot de, III. 333,
363
Congreve, William, II. 188-210, 283
Conybeare, J. J., I. see footnote 64, see footnote 66, see footnote 74
Corbet, Bishop, II. 35
Corneille, II. 224, 236
Cotton, Sir Robert, I. 246
Court pageantries in the sixteenth century,
I. 176, 177
Coventry, Sir John, II. 142
Coverdale, Miles, II. 20
Cowley, Abraham, I. 242; II. 34, 71
Cowper, William, III. 67-73
Crabbe, George, III. 71, 112
Cranmer, Archbishop, II. 15, 23
Crashaw, Richard, II. 34
Criticism and History, III. 267 seq.
Cromwell, Oliver, I. 6; II. 35, 50; III.
276, 319, 351
Crowne, John, II. 157
Curll, Edmund, III. 18
Daniel, Samuel, I. 246
Dante, I. 135, 158, 161; II. 110; III. 335
Darwin, Charles, I. see footnote 1
Davie, Adam, I. 93
Davies, Sir John, II. 34
Daye, John, II. 47
Decker, Thomas, I. 281, see footnote 454
De Foe, II. 307, 402-410; III. 169
Delille, James, III. 21
Denham, Sir John, II. 185-188
Denmark, I. 34, 35
Dennis, John, II. 331
Descartes, II. 149, 233; III. 333
Dickens, Charles, III. 85, 100; his novels,
187-221
Domesday Book, I. 104, see footnote 149, see footnote 150,
see footnote 175
Donne, John, I. see footnote 372, see footnote 373, see footnote 374, 241;
II. 35
Dorat, C. J., III. 16, 140
Dorset, Earl of (Charles Sackville), II.
179, 180
Drake, Admiral, I. see footnote 273
Drake, Dr. Nathan, I. see footnote 274, see footnote 275, see footnote 278
see footnote 284, see footnote 329, see footnote 404, see footnote 508
Drama, formation of the, I. 291 seq.
Drayton, Michael, I. 204, see footnote 330, see footnote 346; II. 34
Drummond, William, II. 100
Dryden, John, I. 18; II. 100; his comedies,
153-157, 184; his life and writings,
II. 222-272, 332; III. 5, 329
Dudevant, Madame (George Sand), III.
207
Dunstan, St., I. 36
Durer, Albert, II. 9, 10
Dyer, Sir Edward, I. see footnote 325
Earle, John, I. 246
Eddas, the Scandinavian, I. 42; III.
123, 124
Edgeworth, Maria, III. 253
Edward VI, II. 28
Edwy and Elgiva, story of, I. 38, see footnote 32
Eliot, George. See Evans, Mary A.
England, climate of, I. 33
English Constitution, formation of the,
I. 105
Elizabeth, Queen, I. 175, 245, 270
Elwin, Whitwell, III. 5 seq.
Erigena, John Scotus, I. 64, see footnote 89, 69
Esménard, Joseph Alphonse, I. see footnote 256
Essex, Robert, Earl of, I. 270, 273
Etheredge, Sir George, II. 137, 158
Evans, Mary A. (George Eliot), III. 85,
179, 185
Eyck, Van, I. 151
Falkland, Lord, I. 245
Farnese, Pietro Luigi, II. 6
Farquhar, George, II. 188, 209
Faust, III. 47
Feltham, Owen, I. 246
Fenn, Sir John, I. see footnote 267
Ferguson, Dr. Adam, II. 304; III. 271
Fermor, Mrs. Arabella, III. 15, 16
Feudalism, the protection and character
of, I. 73
Fichte, III. 335
Fielding, Henry, I. 319; II. 135, 434-433,
450
Fitmore, Sir Robert, II. 305
Finsborough, Battle of, an Anglo-Saxon
poem, I. 54
Fisher, John, Bishop of Rochester, I.
275; II. 26
Flemish artists, I. 170, 178
Fletcher, Giles, II. 34
Fletcher, John, I. 291, 307; II. 45, 100
Ford, John, I. 291, 297, 312; II. 248
Fortescue, Sir John, I. 113, see footnote 171
Fox, Charles James, II. 276, 311, 315 seq.
Fox, George, II. 52, 58, 133
Fox, John, II. 13 seq.
Francis of Assisi, I. 161
Freeman, Edward A., I. see footnote 98
Frisians, the, I. 32, 33
Froissart, I. 83, 102, 126, 127
132, see footnote 195, see footnote 255
Froude, J. A., I. see footnote 149, see footnote 411; II. 15 seq.
Fuller, Thomas, I. 318, see footnote 513
Gaimar, Geoffroy, I. 76, 92
Gainsborough, Thomas, landscape painter,
II. 220
Garrick, David, II. 444, 448
Gaskell, Mrs. Elisabeth C., III. 85, 185
Gay, John, II. 211, 279; III. 4. 29-32
Geoffrey of Monmouth, I. see footnote 130
German ideas, introduction of, in Europe
and England, III; 328 seq.
Germany, drinking habits in, II. 7
Gibbon, Edward, II. 444
Gladstone, William Ewart, III. 274
Glencoe, Massacre of, III. 302 seq.
Glover, Richard, III. 37
Godwin, William, II. 95
Goethe, I. 6, 18, see footnote 441, see footnote 708;
II. 111, 118, 430; III. 48, 74, 125-131, 327 seq.
Goldsmith, Oliver, II. 211, 307, 440-443
Goltzius, I. 196
Gower, John, I. 90, 163, see footnote 127
Grammont, Count de, II. 135, 169, 170
Gray, Thomas, III. 36
Greene, Robert, I. 206, see footnote 301, see footnote 333, 281,
see footnote 340, 306
Grenville, George, II. 310
Gresset, J. B. Lewis, III. 16
Grey, Lady Jane, I. 180, 270
Grostete, Robert, I. 90, 93
Grote, George, III. 185
Guicciardini, Ludovic, I. 173
Guido, I. 16
Guizot, I. see footnote 155; III. 276, 282, 305
Guy of Warwick, I. 77, see footnote 143
Habington, William, I. 240
Hakluyt, Richard, I. 246
Hale, Sir Matthew, II. 16
Hales, John, I. 245; II. 35, 37, 301
Halifax, Charles, Montague, Earl of, II.
329, 334. 361, 366
Hall, Bishop, Joseph, I. 246; II. 35
Hallam, Henry, I. 118; III. 276
Hamilton, Anthony, II. 136 seq.
Hamilton, Sir William, III. 185
Hampden, John, III. 276
Hampole, I. 93
Hardyng, John, I. 269
Harrington, Sir John, I. 237
Harrison, William, I. 173
Hastings, Warren, II. 317; III. 272, 285
seq., 291
Hawes, Stephen, I. 165
Hegel, I. 18, see footnote 244; II. 271, 331 seq.
Heine, I. 2, see footnote 10, 360; III. 39, 48, 74, 87
Hemling, Hans, I. 170
Henry Beauclerk, I. 76
Henry of Huntingdon, I. 36, see footnote 24, see footnote 34, see
footnote 35, 76
Henry VIII and his Court, I. 269; II. 15
Herbert, George, I. 240
Herbert, Lord, I. 246
Herder, John Godfrey von, I. 6
Herrick, Robert, I. 204, 238, see footnote 371
Hertford, Earl of, I. see footnote 402
Hervey, Lord, III. 26
Heywood, Mrs. Eliza, III. 18
Heywood, John, I. 186, 280, see footnote 425, see footnote 488
Hill, Aaron, III. 8
History, philosophy of. See the Introduction,
passim.
Hobbes, Thomas, II. 147-152, 250
Hogarth, William, II. 450-453; III. 18
Holinslied's Chronicles, I. 176, 246, 275
Holland, I. 31
Homer and Spenser, I. 217
Hooker, Richard, I. 245; II. 35 seq.
Horn, Ring, romance of, I. 77, 100
Hoveden, John, I. 90
Howard, John, II. 320
Howe, John, III. 299
Hugo, Victor, I. 2, see footnote 263, see footnote 606; II. 270;
III. 74, 87
Hume, David, II. 304, 440; III. 294, 352
Hunter, William, martyrdom of, II.
31, 32
Hutcheson, Francis, II. 304, 320; III. 271
Iceland and its legends, I. 35, 42
Independency in the sixteenth century,
II. 49 seq., 90
Industry, British, in the nineteenth century,
III. 165 seq.
Irish, the ancient, I. 38
Italian writings and ideas, taste for, in
sixteenth century, I. 181, 182; vices of
the Italian Renaissance, II. 3-7
James I and his Court, I. 237
James II, III. 282
Jewell, Bishop, I. 277
Johnson, Samuel, I. 319; II. 303, 321, 444-453;
III. 10, 38, 345
Joinville, Sire de, I. 83
Jones, Inigo, I. see footnote 276, 321
Jones, Sir William, II. 444
Jonson, Ben, I. see footnote 282, 208, see footnote 394, see footnote 398,
280, see footnote 520;
II. 100; III. 155; sketch of his life, I. 318; his
learning, style, etc., 321; his
dramas, 327; his comedies, 333;
compared with Molière, 345; fanciful
comedies and smaller poems, 345
Jordaens, Jacob, I. 178
Jowett, Benjamin, III. 100, 334
Judith, poem of, I. 60, 61
Junius, Letters of, II. 311 seq.; III. 106
Jutes, the, and their country, I. 31
Keats, John, III. 130
Kemble, John M., I. see footnote 26, see footnote 35, see footnote 39,
see footnote 58, see footnote 59
see footnote 63, see footnote 77
Knighton, Henry, I. see footnote 186
Knolles, Richard, I. 246
Knox, John, II. 8, 28; III. 354
Kyd, Thomas, I. 280
Lackland, John, I. 102
LaHarpe, III. 345
Lamartine, I. 2; III. 74, 87
Lamb, Charles, III. 73, 76
Languet, Hubert, I. 194
Latimer, Bishop, I. 109; II. 17, 27 seq.
Lanfranc, first Norman Archbishop of
Canterbury, I. 76
Langtoft, Peter, I. 90
Laud, Archbishop, II. 38; III. 287
Lavergne, Léonce de, I. see footnote 15
Law, William, II. 303
Layamon, I. 92, see footnote 131
Lebrun, Ponce Denis Econchard, I. 163, see footnote 256
Lee, Nathaniel, II. 241
Leibnitz, III. 23
Leighton, Dr. Alexander, II. 49, 88
Lely, Sir Peter, II. 320
Leo X, Pope, II. 4
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim, I. 4
Lingard, Dr. John, I. see footnote 18, see footnote 21, see footnote 30,
see footnote 32, see footnote 148
Locke, John, II. 71, 300, 303 seq., 320
Lockhart, John Gibson, III. 78 seq.
Lodge, Thomas, I. 204, 280
Lombard, Peter, I. 157, see footnote 245
Loménie de Brienne, Cardinal, III. 311
London in Henry VIII's time, I. 173;
in the present day, III. 164
Longchamps, William, I. 97
Longus, Greek romance-writer, I. 209
Lorris, Guillaume de, I. 84, 95
Loyola, I. 161, 171; III. 273
Ludlow, Edmund, II. 51
Lulli, a renowned Italian composer, II.
233
Lully, Raymond; I. 161
Luther, Martin, I. 26, 171; II. 3-7; and the
Reformation, 7
Lydgate, John, I. 158, 163, 164, see footnote 257, 165, see footnote 259
Lyly, John, I. see footnote 287, 192, 194
Lyly, William, I. 180
Macaulay, Thomas Babington (Lord),
III. 100; his works, 267-307
Machiavelli, I. 183
Mackenzie, Henry, III. 35, 51
Mackintosh, Sir James, III. 276
Macpherson, James, III. 36
Malcolm, Sir John, III. 78
Malherbe, Francis de, III. 329
Malte-brun, Conrad, I. see footnote 8
Mandeville, Bernard, II. 303
Manners of the people in the sixteenth
century, I. 178
Marguerite of Navarre, I. 132
Marlborough, Duchess of, III. 26
Marlborough, Duke of, II. 275, 307; III.
259
Marlowe, Christopher, I. 211, see footnote 344, 280, see footnote 429,
see footnote 433, see footnote 344, see footnote 442, see footnote 445,
see footnote 446, see footnote 447, see footnote 449, see footnote 452;
III. 73;
his dramas, I. 282
Marston, John, I. 320
Martyr, Peter, II. 23
Martyrs in the reign of Mary, II. 30-34
Marvell, Andrew, II. 254
Masques, under James I, I. 177, 348
Massillon, II. 28
Massinger, Philip, I. see footnote 400, 280, see footnote 424, see
footnote 459, see footnote 460, see footnote 462, 297
Maundeville, Sir John, I. 91, see footnote 128, see footnote 129, see
footnote 130, 102
May, Thomas, II. 57
Medici, Lorenzo de, I. 182
Melanchthon, Philip, II. 13, 23
Merlin, I. 77, see footnote 124
Meung, Jean de, I. 93, 162
Michelet, Jules, I. 4, see footnote 71; III. 325
Middleton, Thomas, I. see footnote 401, 273, 277, 291, see footnote 458
Mill, John Stuart, III. 100, 176, 360-408
Milton, John, I. 62, see footnote 86, 215, 245; II. 71-84; his
prose writings, 84-100; his poetry, 100-128,
347, 348; III. 272
Molière, I. see footnote 347, see footnote 348, see footnote 489, see
footnote 563, see footnote 608, 361; II. 188 seq., 418; III. 214
Mommsen, Theodor, I. see footnote 3
Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, II. 424;
III. 8, 15
Montesquieu, Ch., I. see footnote 4, 25
Moore, Thomas, II. 440; III. 75 seq., 138
More, Sir Thomas, I. 246, 275
Müller, Max, III. 361
Muller, Ottfried, I. 6
Murray, John, III. 78, 138, 140
Musset, Alfred de, I. 2, 199, see footnote 426, see footnote 427, see
footnote 459, see footnote 523, 358;
II. 267; III. 39, 74, 87, 430 seq.
Nash, Thomas, I. 281
Nayler, James, II. 53, 57
Neal's History of the Puritans, II. 53, 88
Newcastle, Duchess of (Margaret Lucas),
II. 187
Newspaper, first daily, III. 44
Newton, Sir Isaac, II. 289, 301
Nicole, Peter, II. 283
Norman Conquest, the, I. 71, 72, 73; its
effects on the national language and
literature, 87, 123; III. 151
Normans, the character of, I. 74; how
they became French, 75; their taste
and architecture, 75; their literature,
chivalry, and success, 76; their position
and tyranny in England, 87; III.
152
Nott, Dr. John, I. 191
Novel, the English--its characteristics,
II. 402 seq.; the modern school of novelists,
III. 185 seq.
Nut-brown Maid, the--an ancient ballad,
I. see footnote 192
Oates, Titus, II. 257
Occam, William, I. 161
Occleve, Thomas, I. 163
Ochin, Bernard, II. 23
Oliphant, Mrs., II. 424
Olivers, Thomas, II. 290
Orrery, Earl of, III. 8
Otway, Thomas, II. 241, 248
Ouseley, Sir William, III. 78
Overbury, Sir Thomas, I. see footnote 192, 246
Owen, John, II. 58
Paganism of poetry and painting in
Italy in the sixteenth century, I. 181
Paley, William, II. 300
Palgrave, Sir Francis, I. see footnote 13, see footnote 344
Parnell, Dr. Thomas, III. 4
Pascal, III. 300, 400; III. 25, 306
Pastoral poetry, I. 204
Peele, George, I. 280
Penn, William, II. 288; III. 299
Pepys, Samuel, II. 142, 143, 146
Percy, Thomas, III. 73
Petrarch, I. 126, 185, 163
Philips, Ambrose, III. 4
Philosophy and history, III. 308 seq.
Philosophy and poetry, connection of,
I. 157
Picts, I. 38
Pickering, Dr. Gilbert, II. 223
Piers Plowman's Crede, I. 122
Piers Ploughman, Vision of, I. 120
185
Pitt, William, first Earl of Chatham, II.
276, 310 seq.; III. 275
Pitt, William (second son of the preceding),
II. 311, 217 seq.; III. 65
Pleiad, the, I. 18
Pluche, Abbé, II. 342
Poe, Edgar Allan, II. 405
Pope, Alexander, II. 252, 328, 332, 381;
III. 5-28, 112, 117, 28O
Prayer-book, English, II. 23-27
Preaching at the Reformation period,
II. 27
Presbyterians and Independents in the
sixteenth century, II. 49 seq., 90
Price, Dr. Richard, II. 304, 321; III. 271
Priestly, Dr., III. 66
Prior, Matthew, III. 4, 28
Proclus, I. see footnote 5, see footnote 244
Prynne, William, II. 57
Pulci, an Italian painter, I. 182
Pultock, Robert, II. 438
Purchas, Samuel, I. 246
Puritans, the, II. 45 seq., 132 seq.
Puttenham, George, I. 185, see footnote 294, 246
Pym, John, III. 276
Quarles, Francis, I. 240, see footnote 371
Rabelais, I. 149, 222, see footnote 360, 265, 366; II. 144, 388,
438
Racine, I. 371; II. 224, 284; III. 218, 306
Raleigh, Sir Walter, I. 214, 246, 273; II, 34
Rapin, II. 224
Ray, John, II. 303
Reformation in England made way for
by the Saxon character and the situation
of the Norman Church, I. 122,
165; II. 7 seq.
Reid, Thomas, II. 304, 320, 440
Renaissance, the English; manners of
the time, I. 169; the theatre its
original product, 264
Renan, Ernest, I. see footnote 3, see footnote 194
Restoration, period of the, in England,
II. 131 seq., 209
Revolution, period of the, in England,
II. 273 seq.
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, II. 220, 320, 444
Richard Cœur de Lion, I. 101
Richardson, Samuel, II. 135, 303, 412-424,
444; III. 8, 35
Ridley, Nicholas, II. 30
Ritson, Joseph, I. see footnote 157, see footnote 159, see footnote 162,
see footnote 164
Robert of Brunne, I. 93
Robert of Gloucester, I. 93
Robertson, Dr. William, II. 440; III. 3,
38, 352
Robespierre, II. 284
Robin Hood ballads, I. 109, 178, 185
Rochester, Earl of (John Wilmot), II.
143 seq., 184, 337; III. 28, 140
Rogers, John, martyrdom of, II. 31
Rogers, Samuel, III. 112
Roland, Song of, I. 77, 81
Rollo, a Norse leader, I. 74
Ronsard, Peter de, I. 18
Roscellinus, I. 160
Roscommon, Earl of, II. 184
Roses, wars of the, I. 114, 124, 169, 287
Rotheland, Hugh de, I. 90
Rousseau, Jean-Baptiste, III. 22
Rousseau, Jean Jacques, II. 447; III. 16, 34
Royer-Collard, Pierre-Paul, III. 392
Rubens, I. 151, 177, 178, 232, 366; III. 27
Rückert, III. 74
Russel, Lord William, II. 141
Sacheverell, Dr., II. 273, 306
Sacy, Lemaistre de, II. 22
Sadeler, I. 196
Sainte-Beuve, I. 6
St. John. See Bolingbroke, Lord
Saint-Simon, I. 3; III. 217
St. Theresa, I. 161
Saintré, Jehan de, I. 102
Sand, George. See Dudevant, Madame
Savage, Richard, III. 18
Sawtré, William, I. 124
Saxons, the, I. 31; characteristics of
the race, 71; contrast with the Normans,
74, 75; their endurance, 103;
their invasion of England, III. 151, 152
Scaliger, III. 345
Schelling, I. 22
Schiller, III. 48, 74, 87
Scotland in the seventeenth century, II.
134
Scott, Sir Walter, I. 4; II. 222, 361 seq.,
440; III. 74, 105, 107, 260; his novels and
poems, 78-85
Scotus, Duns, I. 159
Scudéry, Mademoiselle de, I. 195
Sedley, Sir Charles, I. 240; II. 179
Selden, John, I. 246
Seres, William, II. 47
Settle, Elkanah, II. 225, 240
Sévigné, Madame de, III. 15, 306
Shadwell, Thomas, II. 157, 240, 261
Shaftesbury, Anthony Cooper, third
Earl of, II. 304
Shakespeare, William, I. see footnote 169, see footnote 274, 186, see
footnote 301, see footnote 308, 206, see footnote 331, 245
280; II. 230, 238 seq.; III. 155; general
idea of, I. 350; his life and character,
354; his style, 366, and manners,
372; his dramatis personæ,
377; his men of wit, 382, and
women, 386; his villains, 391, 392;
the principal characters in his plays,
393; fancy, imagination--ideas of
existence--love; harmony between the
artist and his work, 407
Shelley, Percy Bysshe, III. 74, 95-100, 130
Shenstone, William, III. 37
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, II. 212 seq.,
311, 440
Sherlock, Bishop, II. 292, 301, 412
Shirley, James, I. 280; II. 153
Sidney, Algernon, I. 245; II. 71, 141
Sidney, Sir Phillip, I. 186, 194, 245,
266; II. 39; III. 155
Skelton, John, I. 165
Smart, Christopher, III. 37
Smith, Adam, II. 304, 320
Smith, Sidney, II. 282; III. 100
Smollett, Tobias, II. 308, 433-437, 440
Society in Great Britain in the present
day, III. 169 seq.; in England and in
France, 430 seq.
South, Dr. Robert, II. 292, 295
Southern, Thomas, II. 241
Southey, Robert, II. 438; III. 72, 76, 134,
287
Speed, John, I. 246
Spelman, Sir Henry, I. 246
Spencer, Herbert, III. 185
Spencer, Edmund, I. 186, 207, 213,245;
II. 71, 110; his life, character and
poetry, I. 214; II. 236; III. 155, 424
Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn, III. 100, 334
Steele, Sir Richard, II. 311, 327; III. 259
Stendhal, Count de, I. 25, see footnote 214, see footnote 471, see
footnote 487
Sterling, John, III. 309 seq.
Sterne, Laurence, II. 437-440; III. 35
Stewart, Dugald, II. 320, 440; III. 61
Stillingfleet, Bishop, II. 292, 301
Stowe, John, I. 246
Strafford, Thomas Wentworth, Earl of,
III. 276 seq.
Strafford, William, I. 172
Strype, John, I. 268
Stubbes, John, I. see footnote 277, 179, see footnote 285
Suckling, Sir John, I. 238, see footnote 371; II. 181
Sue, Eugène, III. 220
Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of, I. 185;
II. 16
Swift, Jonathan, II. 135. 224, 303, 311, 327
seq.; III. 259, 288; sketch of his life, II.
360-368; his wit, 368-371; his pamphlets,
371-379; his poetry, 380-389; his philosophy,
etc., 389-401
Taillefer, I. 79, 89
Tasso, I. 222, see footnote 360, see footnote 366, see footnote 512
Taylor, Jeremy, I. 246; II. 35, 38, 44
Temple, Sir William, II. 173, 365, 389;
III. 3, 272
Teniers, David, III. 83
Tennyson, Alfred, III. 100, 185, 410-438
Thackeray, William M. III. 85, 100; his
novels, 223-265
Theatre, the, in the sixteenth century, I.
264; after the Restoration, II. 153-155,
188 seq., 226 seq.
Thibaut of Champagne, I. 84
Thierry, Augustin, I. 4, see footnote 20, see footnote 69, see footnote 99,
see footnote 118, see footnote 119, see footnote 120, see footnote 157,
see footnote 178; III. 305
Thiers, Louis Adolphe, III. 282, 305
Thomson, James, III. 32-35
Thorpe, John, I. see footnote 46, see footnote 48, see footnote 50,
see footnote 66, see footnote 72, see footnote 83, see footnote 87
Tickell, Thomas, III. 4
Tillotson, Archbishop, II. 292 seq.
Tindal, Matthew, II. 303
Titian, I. 236, see footnote 600, 366
Tocqueville, Alexis de, I. see footnote 3
Toland, John, II. 303
Toleration Act, the, III. 298, 299, 300
Tomkins, Thomas, II. 32
Townley, James, II. 220
Turner, Sharon, I. see footnote 9, see footnote 28, see footnote 32,
see footnote 34, see footnote 35, see footnote 56, see footnote 65,
see footnote 66, see footnote 67, see footnote 28, see footnote 79,
see footnote 81, see footnote 95,54
Tutchin, John, III. 18
Tyndale, William, II. 19 seq., 28, 47
Urfé, Honoré d', I. see footnote 311, 315
Usher, James, I. 246
Vanbrugh, Sir John, II. 187-209
Vane, Sir Harry, II. 143
Vega, Lope de, I. 161, 279; II. 155
Village feasts of sixteenth century described,
I. 178
Villehardouin, a French chronicler, I.
83, 102
Vinci, Leonardo da, I. 16
Voltaire, I. 16; II. 447; III. 22, 137, 346
Vos, Martin de, I. 196
Wace, Robert, I. 76, 78, see footnote 106, see footnote 108, 89, see
footnote 130, see footnote 131
Waller, Edmund, I. 240; II. 71, 153, 181-184;
III. 3
Walpole, Horace, III. 15
Walpole, Sir Robert, II. 274, 280
Walton, Isaac, I. 246
Warburton, Bishop, II. 303
Warner, William, I. 212
Warton, Thomas, I. see footnote 96, see footnote 122, see footnote 124,
see footnote 126, see footnote 127, see footnote 135, see footnote 137,
see footnote 145, see footnote 146, see footnote 147, see footnote 252,
see footnote 259, see footnote 287; III. 73
Watt, James, II. 320
Watteau, Anthony, III. 14
Watts, Isaac, III. 37
Webster, John, I. 291, 297; II. 248
Wesley, John, II. 280-291
Wetherell, Elizabeth, III. 179
Wharton, Lord, III. 26
Whitfield, George, II. 289-230
Wiclif, John, I. 123, 286; II. 15
Wilkes, John, II. 310
William III, II. 173
Wither, George, II. 35
William of Malmesbury, I. 75
William the Conqueror, I. 78
Windham, William, II. 311
Witenagemote, the, I. 46
Wollastom William Hyde, III. 271
Wolsey, Cardinal, I. 165; II. 16
Wordsworth, William, III. 73, 88-95
Wortley, Lady Mary. See Montagu
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, I. 185, 180, 187
Wycherley, William, I. 18; II. 157-167,
178, 187, 188, 202, 250, 337
Yonge, Charlotte Mary, III. 179
Young, Arthur, II. 320
Young, Edward, III. 37