differing from Mr. Theobald, is disposed, it seems, not to hold her approval in reserve. She writes: Every detail which Mr. Donnelly has given me, whether for private consumption or publication, tallies too exactly with my own conclusions, derived from totally different researches, for me to be able to believe such a miraculous combination, haphazard guesses at truth-such a multitude of small, but convincing, coincidences as his results exhibit when I compare them with my own. Most wonderful revelations, beyond even what he anticipates will, I believe, be made as soon as a sufficient number of minds and hands with pens are brought to the work of deciphering. It is a pity that, for the present, he must protect himself by working single-handed. HOW RALEIGH SPELLED HIS NAME.-Dr. T. N. Brushfield (Raleigh's recent biographer and editor), has collected forty-seven ways of spelling Sir Walter Raleigh's name, ranging from 'Rale' to 'Wrawley,' and by patient industry he will probably succeed in collecting many more. In Elizabethan times it was a favorite practice either to vary surnames or to Latinize them, as Robert Flud, the Rosicrucian did, calling himself Robertus de Fluctibus. Raleigh, following the usual custom, signed his name in all manner of ways, and it is, therefore, well-nigh impossible to say which is correct. In the days when he was a barrister of the Middle Temple, he presented a lamp to the Society, which is still suspended in the corridor of the old hall and lighted every term-time. This lamp, which is octagonal in shape, is composed of beautifully colored glass, and on one of the sides appears the well-known lozenge coat-of-arms, and underneath 'Rawleigh.' This is how he spelled his name, or occasionally spelled it, in those merry days when the Tower and the axe were absent from his dreams at night.-Book-Lore. FENNELL'S SHAKESPEARE REPOSITORY, 1853.-I have the four first numbers of this quarto print. Can anyone tell me how many were printed? It was in many respects a remarkable issue, and some of its contents will bear reproduction. For instance, the following is said to be taken from an old newspaper : ORIGINAL LETTER OF SHAKESPEARE.-William Neate, a picture dealer many years ago discovered an original letter of Shakespeare, addressed to his intimate friend the Lord Mayor, 1609. The letter was found in an old pocket-book, which Neate, among other things, had purchased in the City at the sale of some property belonging to a person named Hathaway, a descendant of Shakespeare's wife, Anne Hathaway. Neate advertised the document, which was purchased for one hundred pounds by a gentleman whom he subsequently ascertained was Sheridan, who had been sent by the Prince Regent. The letter is now in the British Museum, and the pocket-book was sold for £15. And also the following: A work entitled I Quattro Libri della Filosòphia Natturale die Givan Saravia (1564), bearing an autograph of Shakespeare, was in 1844 in possession of Mr. Tayleur. The precious little volume was subsequently purchased by Mr. Pickering, the eminent bookseller, for twenty guineas. J. HILL. I AM THY POET'S SPIRIT.-The Seybert Commission for investigating modern spiritualism was formed in following out the conditions of an important bequest made by the late Henry Seybert, of Philadelphia, to the University of Pennsylvania. The chairmanship of this Commission is one of the miscellaneous duties, in connection with his trusteeship of the University, which has devolved upon Dr. Horace Howard Furness. The genial humor and right Shakespearian breadth and gentleness of the Variorum editor have done their part in making the preliminary report of the Commission, recently issued by the J. B. Lippincott Co., very good reading throughout. But the following choice bit will commend itself particularly to the Shakespearian palate :- Whenever the spirits have been announced to me as this or that spirit, I invariably treat them as the spirits of those whom they assert themselves to be, and, in my conclusions, am guided by the pertinency of their answers to my question. Whenever William Shakespeare appears to me (and, by the way, let me here parenthetically note, as throwing light on a vexed question, that Shakespeare, in the spirit world, 'favors' the Chandos portrait, even to the two little white collar strings hanging down in front; his spirit has visited me several times, and such was his garb when I saw him most distinctly); when, I repeat, Shakespeare materializes in the cabinet for me, do I not always most reverently salute him, and does he not graciously nod to me--until I venture most humbly to ask him what the misprint 'Vllorxa,' in Timon of Athens, stands for, when he always slams the curtains in my face? (I meekly own that perhaps he is justified.) SELECTED REPRINTS. PART VII.-PREFACE TO POPE'S EDITION OF SHAKE- 康 T is not my design to enter into a criticism upon this author; though to do it effectually, and not superficially, would be the best occasion that any just writer could take, to form the judgment and taste of our nation. For of all English poets Shakspeare must be confessed to be the fairest and fullest subject for criticism, and to afford the most numerous, as well as most conspicuous instances, both of beauties and faults of all sorts. But this far exceeds the bounds of a preface, the business of which is only to give an account of the fate of his works, and the disadvantages under which they have been transmitted to us. We shall hereby extenuate many faults which are his, and clear him from the imputation of many which are not: a design which, though it can be no guide to future criticks to do him justice in one way, will at least be sufficient to prevent their doing him an injustice in the other. I cannot, however, but mention some of his principal and characteristick excellencies, for which (notwithstanding his defects) he is justly and universally elevated above all other dramatick writers. Not that this is the proper place of praising him, but because I would not omit any occasion of doing it. If ever any author deserved the name of an original, it was Shakspeare. Homer himself drew not his art so immediately from the fountains of nature, it proceeded through Ægyptian strainers and channels, and came to him not without some tincture of the learning, or some cast of the models, of those before him. The poetry of Shakspeare was inspiration indeed he is not so much an imitator as an instrument of nature; and it is not so just to say that he speaks from her, as that she speaks through him. His characters are so much nature herself, that it is a sort of injury to call them by so distant a name as copies of her. Those of other poets have a constant resemblance, which shows that they received them from one another, and were but multipliers of the same image: each picture, like a mock-rainbow, is but the reflection of a reflection. But every single character in Shakspeare is as much an individual, as those in life itself: it is as impossible to find any two alike; and such as from their relation or affinity in any respect appear most to be twins will, upon comparison, be found remarkably distinct. To this life and variety of character we must add the wonderful preservation of it; which is such throughout his plays, that had all the speeches been printed without the very names of the persons, I believe one might have applied them with certainty to every speaker. The power over our passions was never possessed in a more eminent degree, or displayed in so different instances. Yet all along, there is seen no labour, no pains to raise them; no preparation to guide or guess to the effect, or be perceived to lead toward it: but the heart swells, and the tears burst out, just at the proper places: we are surprised the moment we weep; and yet upon reflection find the passion so just, that we should be surprised if we had not wept, and wept at that very moment. How astonishing is it again, that the passions directly opposite to these, laughter and spleen, are no less at his command! that he is not more a master of the great than of the ridiculous in human nature; of our noblest tendernesses, than of our vainest foibles; of our strongest emotions, than of our idlest sensations! Nor does he only excel in the passions: in the coolness of reflection and reasoning he is full as admirable. His sentiments are not only in general the most pertinent and judicious upon every subject, but by a talent very peculiar, something between penetration and felicity, he hits upon that particular point on which the bent of each argument turns, or the force of each motive depends. This is perfectly amazing, from a man of no education or experience in those great and publick scenes of life which are usually the subject of his thoughts: so that he seems to have known the world by intuition, to have looked through human nature at one glance, and to be the only author that gives ground for a very new opinion, that the philosopher, and even the man of the world, may be born as well as the poet. It must be owned, that with all these great excellencies, he has almost as great defects; and that as he has certainly written better, so he has perhaps written worse, than any other. But I think I can in some measure account for these defects, from several causes and accidents; without which it is hard to imagine that so large and so enlightened a mind could ever have been susceptible of them. That all these contingencies should unite to his disadvantage seems to me almost as singularly unlucky, as that so many various (nay contrary) talents should meet in one man, was happy and extraordinary. It must be allowed that stage poetry, of all others, is more particularly levelled to please the populace, and its success more immediately depending upon the common suffrage. One cannot therefore wonder, if Shakspeare, having at his first appearance no other aim in his writings than to procure a subsistence, directed his endeavours solely to hit the taste and humours that then prevailed. The audience was generally composed of the meaner sort of people; and therefore the images of life were to be drawn from those of their own rank: accordingly we find, that not our author's only, but almost all the old comedies have their scene among tradesmen and mechanicks: and even their historical plays strictly follow the common old stories or vulgar traditions of that kind of people. In tragedy, nothing was so sure to surprize and cause admiration as the most strange, unexpected, and consequently most unnatural, events and incidents; the most exaggerated thoughts; the most verbose and bombast expression; the most pompous rhymes, and thundering versification. In comedy, nothing was so sure to please as buffoonery, vile ribaldry, and unmannerly jests of fools and clowns. Yet even in these our author's wit buoys up, and is borne above his subject: his genius in those low parts is like some prince of a romance in the disguise of a shepherd or peasant; a certain greatness and spirit now and then break out, which manifest his higher extraction and qualities. It may be added, that not only the common audience had no notion of the rules of writing, but few even of the better sort piqued themselves upon any great degree of knowledge or nicety that way; till Ben Jonson, getting possession of the stage, brought critical learning into vogue: and that this was not done without difficulty, may appear from those frequent lessons (and indeed almost declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his first plays, and put into the mouth of his actors, the grex, chorus, etc., to remove the prejudices, and inform the judgment of his hearers. Till then, our authors had no thoughts of writing on the model of the ancients : their tragedies were only histories in dialogue; and their comedies followed the thread of any novel as they found it, no less implicitly than if it had been true history. To judge therefore of Shakspeare by Aristotle's rules, is like trying a man by the laws of one country, who acted under those of another. He writ to the people; and writ at first without patronage from the better sort, and therefore without aims of pleasing them; without assistance or advice from the learned, as without the advantage of education or acquaintance among them; without that knowledge of the best models, the ancients, to inspire him with an emulation of them; in a word, without any views of reputation, and of what poets are pleased to call immortality some or all of which have encouraged the vanity, or animated the ambition of other writers. Yet it must be observed, that when his performances had merited the protection of his prince, and when the encouragement of the court had |