Chapter 5

"O learn to love; the lesson is but plain,And, once made perfect, never lost again."

"O learn to love; the lesson is but plain,

And, once made perfect, never lost again."

Nor are there wanting passages in which energy and force are very skilfully combined with melody and rhythm; of the subsequent extracts, which are truly excellent for their vigorous construction, the lines in Italics present us with the point and cadence of the present day. Venus, endeavouring to excite the affection of Adonis, who is represented

——————— "more lovely than a man,More white and red than doves or roses are,"

——————— "more lovely than a man,

More white and red than doves or roses are,"

tells him,

"I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now,Even by the stern and direful god of war,Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow—Over my altars hath he hung his lance,His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest,And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance,To coy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest:"

"I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now,

Even by the stern and direful god of war,

Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow—

Over my altars hath he hung his lance,

His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest,

And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance,

To coy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest:"

and, on finding her efforts fruitless, she bursts forth into the following energetic reproach:—

"Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,Well-painted idol, image, dull and dead,Statue, contenting but the eye alone,Thing like a man, but of no woman bred."

"Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,

Well-painted idol, image, dull and dead,

Statue, contenting but the eye alone,

Thing like a man, but of no woman bred."

The death of Adonis, however, banishes all vestige of resentment, and, amid numerous exclamations of grief and anguish, gives birth to prophetic intimations of the hapless fate of all succeeding attachments:—

"Since thou art dead, lo! here I prophesy,Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend;It shall be waited on with jealousy,Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end;—It shall suspect, where is no cause of fear;It shall not fear, where it should most mistrust;It shall be merciful, and too severe,And most deceiving when it seems most just;—It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud,And shall be blasted in a breathing-while;The bottom poison, and the top o'er-straw'dWith sweets, that shall the sharpest sight beguile:The strongest body shall it make most weak,Strike the wise dumb, and teach the fool to speak."

"Since thou art dead, lo! here I prophesy,Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend;It shall be waited on with jealousy,Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end;—

"Since thou art dead, lo! here I prophesy,

Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend;

It shall be waited on with jealousy,

Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end;—

It shall suspect, where is no cause of fear;It shall not fear, where it should most mistrust;It shall be merciful, and too severe,And most deceiving when it seems most just;—

It shall suspect, where is no cause of fear;

It shall not fear, where it should most mistrust;

It shall be merciful, and too severe,

And most deceiving when it seems most just;—

It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud,And shall be blasted in a breathing-while;The bottom poison, and the top o'er-straw'dWith sweets, that shall the sharpest sight beguile:The strongest body shall it make most weak,Strike the wise dumb, and teach the fool to speak."

It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud,

And shall be blasted in a breathing-while;

The bottom poison, and the top o'er-straw'd

With sweets, that shall the sharpest sight beguile:

The strongest body shall it make most weak,

Strike the wise dumb, and teach the fool to speak."

These passages are not given with the view of impressing upon the mind of the reader, that such is the constant strain of the versification of theVenus and Adonis; but merely to show, that, while in narrative poetry he equals his contemporaries in the general structure of his verse, he has produced, even in his earliest attempt, instances of beauty, melody, and force, in the mechanism of his stanzas, which have no parallel in their pages. In making this assertion, it mustnot be forgotten, that we date the composition ofVenus and Adonisanterior to 1590, that the comparison solely applies to narrative poetry, and consequently that all contest with Spenser is precluded.

It now remains to be proved, that the merits of this mythological story are not solely founded on its occasional felicity of versification; but that in description, in the power of delineating, with a master's hand, the various objects of nature, it possesses more claims to notice than have hitherto been allowed.

After the noble pictures of the horse which we find drawn in the book of Job, and in Virgil, few attempts to sketch this spirited animal can be expected to succeed; yet, among these few, impartial criticism may demand a station for the lines below:—

"Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,And now his woven girts he breaks asunder,The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder.—His ears up prick'd; his braided hanging maneUpon his compass'd crest now stands on end;His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,As from a furnace, vapours doth he send:—Sometimes he trots, as if he told the steps,With gentle majesty, and modest pride:Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps,As who should say, lo! thus my strength is try'd.—Look, when a painter would surpass the life,In limning out a well-porportion'd steed,His art's with Nature's workmanship at strife,As if the dead the living should exceed;So did this horse excell a common one,In shape, in courage, colour, pace, and bone.Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,Broad-breast, full eyes, small head, and nostril wide,High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide."

"Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,And now his woven girts he breaks asunder,The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder.—

"Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,

And now his woven girts he breaks asunder,

The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,

Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder.—

His ears up prick'd; his braided hanging maneUpon his compass'd crest now stands on end;His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,As from a furnace, vapours doth he send:—

His ears up prick'd; his braided hanging mane

Upon his compass'd crest now stands on end;

His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,

As from a furnace, vapours doth he send:—

Sometimes he trots, as if he told the steps,With gentle majesty, and modest pride:Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps,As who should say, lo! thus my strength is try'd.—

Sometimes he trots, as if he told the steps,

With gentle majesty, and modest pride:

Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps,

As who should say, lo! thus my strength is try'd.—

Look, when a painter would surpass the life,In limning out a well-porportion'd steed,His art's with Nature's workmanship at strife,As if the dead the living should exceed;So did this horse excell a common one,In shape, in courage, colour, pace, and bone.

Look, when a painter would surpass the life,

In limning out a well-porportion'd steed,

His art's with Nature's workmanship at strife,

As if the dead the living should exceed;

So did this horse excell a common one,

In shape, in courage, colour, pace, and bone.

Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,Broad-breast, full eyes, small head, and nostril wide,High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide."

Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,

Broad-breast, full eyes, small head, and nostril wide,

High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,

Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide."

Venus, apprehensive for the fate of Adonis, should he attempt to hunt the boar, endeavours to dissuade him from his purpose, by drawing a most formidable description of that savage inmate of the woods, and by painting, on the other hand, the pleasures to be derived from the pursuit of the hare. The danger necessarily incurred from attacking the former, and the various efforts by which the latter tries to escape her pursuers, are presented to us with great fidelity and warmth of colouring.

"Thou had'st been gone, quoth she, sweet boy, ere this,But that thou told'st me, thou would'st hunt the boar,O be advis'd; thou know'st not what it isWith javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,Whose tushes never-sheath'd he whetteth still,Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.On his bow back he hath a battle setOf bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;His snout digs sepulchres where-e'er he goes;Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way,And whom he strikes, his crooked tushes slay.His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed,Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed;Being ireful, on the lion he will venture.—But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me;Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,Or at the fox, which lives by subtlety,Or at the roe, which no encounter dare:Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs,And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy hounds.And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,Mark the poor wretch to overshoot his troubles,How he out-runs the wind, and with what careHe cranks and crosses, with a thousand doubles:—Sometime he runs among the flock of sheep,To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell;And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,To stop the loud pursuers in their yell;And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer;Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:For there his smell with others being mingled,The hot scent-snuffling hounds are driven to doubt,Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singledWith much ado the cold fault cleanly out;Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,As if another chase were in the skies.By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,To hearken if his foes pursue him still;Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;And now his grief may be compared wellTo one sore-sick, that hears the passing bell.Then shall thou see the dew-bedabbled wretchTurn, and return, indenting with the way;Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch,Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay."

"Thou had'st been gone, quoth she, sweet boy, ere this,

But that thou told'st me, thou would'st hunt the boar,

O be advis'd; thou know'st not what it is

With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,

Whose tushes never-sheath'd he whetteth still,

Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.

On his bow back he hath a battle setOf bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;His snout digs sepulchres where-e'er he goes;Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way,And whom he strikes, his crooked tushes slay.

On his bow back he hath a battle set

Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;

His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;

His snout digs sepulchres where-e'er he goes;

Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way,

And whom he strikes, his crooked tushes slay.

His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed,Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed;Being ireful, on the lion he will venture.—

His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed,

Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;

His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed;

Being ireful, on the lion he will venture.—

But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me;Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,Or at the fox, which lives by subtlety,Or at the roe, which no encounter dare:Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs,And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy hounds.

But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me;

Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,

Or at the fox, which lives by subtlety,

Or at the roe, which no encounter dare:

Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs,

And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy hounds.

And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,Mark the poor wretch to overshoot his troubles,How he out-runs the wind, and with what careHe cranks and crosses, with a thousand doubles:—

And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,

Mark the poor wretch to overshoot his troubles,

How he out-runs the wind, and with what care

He cranks and crosses, with a thousand doubles:—

Sometime he runs among the flock of sheep,To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell;And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,To stop the loud pursuers in their yell;And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer;Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:

Sometime he runs among the flock of sheep,

To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell;

And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,

To stop the loud pursuers in their yell;

And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer;

Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:

For there his smell with others being mingled,The hot scent-snuffling hounds are driven to doubt,Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singledWith much ado the cold fault cleanly out;Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,As if another chase were in the skies.

For there his smell with others being mingled,

The hot scent-snuffling hounds are driven to doubt,

Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled

With much ado the cold fault cleanly out;

Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,

As if another chase were in the skies.

By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,To hearken if his foes pursue him still;Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;And now his grief may be compared wellTo one sore-sick, that hears the passing bell.

By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,

Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,

To hearken if his foes pursue him still;

Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;

And now his grief may be compared well

To one sore-sick, that hears the passing bell.

Then shall thou see the dew-bedabbled wretchTurn, and return, indenting with the way;Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch,Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay."

Then shall thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch

Turn, and return, indenting with the way;

Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch,

Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay."

This poem abounds with similes, many of which include miniature sketches of no small worth and beauty. A few of these shall be given, and they will not fail to impart a favourable impression of the fertility and resources of the rising bard. The fourth and fifth, which we have distinguished by Italics, more especially deserve notice, the former representing a minute piece of natural history, and the latter describing in words adequate to their subject, one of the most terrible convulsions of nature.

———————————— "as one on shoreGazing upon a late-embarked friend,Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend."—————————— "as one that unawareHath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood."———"Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood."———"Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain."———"As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground,Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes."

———————————— "as one on shoreGazing upon a late-embarked friend,Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend."

———————————— "as one on shore

Gazing upon a late-embarked friend,

Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,

Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend."

———

——————— "as one that unawareHath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood."

——————— "as one that unaware

Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood."

———

"Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood."

"Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,

Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood."

———

"Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain."

"Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,

Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain."

———

"As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground,Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes."

"As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground,

Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes."

We shall close these extracts from theVenus and Adonis, with two passages which form a striking contrast, and which prove thatthe author possessed, at the commencement of his career, no small portion of those powers which were afterwards to astonish the world; powers alike unrivalled either in developing the terrible or the beautiful.

"And therefore hath she bribed the Destinies,To cross the curious workmanship of nature,To mingle beauty with infirmities,And pure perfection with impure defeature;Making it subject to the tyrannyOf sad mischances and much misery;As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,Life-poisoning pestilence, and frenzies wood,The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaintDisorder breeds by heating of the blood:Surfeits, impostumes, grief, and damn'd despair—And not the least of all these maladies,But in one minute's sight brings beauty under—As mountain snow melts with the mid-day sun."———"Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest,From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,And wakes the morning, from whose silver breastThe sun ariseth in his majesty;Who doth the world so gloriously behold,That cedar tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.Venus salutes him with this fair good morrow:O thou clear god, and patron of all light,From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrowThe beauteous influence that makes him bright."[27:A]

"And therefore hath she bribed the Destinies,

To cross the curious workmanship of nature,

To mingle beauty with infirmities,

And pure perfection with impure defeature;

Making it subject to the tyranny

Of sad mischances and much misery;

As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,Life-poisoning pestilence, and frenzies wood,The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaintDisorder breeds by heating of the blood:Surfeits, impostumes, grief, and damn'd despair—

As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,

Life-poisoning pestilence, and frenzies wood,

The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaint

Disorder breeds by heating of the blood:

Surfeits, impostumes, grief, and damn'd despair—

And not the least of all these maladies,But in one minute's sight brings beauty under—As mountain snow melts with the mid-day sun."

And not the least of all these maladies,

But in one minute's sight brings beauty under—

As mountain snow melts with the mid-day sun."

———

"Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest,From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,And wakes the morning, from whose silver breastThe sun ariseth in his majesty;Who doth the world so gloriously behold,That cedar tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.

"Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest,

From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,

And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast

The sun ariseth in his majesty;

Who doth the world so gloriously behold,

That cedar tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.

Venus salutes him with this fair good morrow:O thou clear god, and patron of all light,From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrowThe beauteous influence that makes him bright."[27:A]

Venus salutes him with this fair good morrow:

O thou clear god, and patron of all light,

From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow

The beauteous influence that makes him bright."[27:A]

If we compare theVenus and Adonisof Shakspeare with its classical prototypes; with theEpitaphium Adonidisof Bion, and the beautiful narrative of Ovid, which terminates the tenth book of his Metamorphoses, we must confess the inferiority of the English poem, to the former in pathos, and to the latter in elegance; but ifwe contrast it with the productions of its own age, it cannot fail of being allowed a large share of relative merit. It has imbibed, indeed, too many of the conceits and puerilities of the period in which it was produced, and it has lost much interest by deviating from tradition; for, as Mr. Steevens has remarked, "the common and more pleasing fable assures us, that

———— "when bright Venus yielded up her charms,The blest Adonis languish'd in her arms;"[28:A]

———— "when bright Venus yielded up her charms,

The blest Adonis languish'd in her arms;"[28:A]

yet the passages which we have quoted, and the general strain of the poem, are such as amply to account for the popularity which it once enjoyed.

That this was great, that the work was highly valued by poetic minds, and, as might be supposed, from the nature of its subject, the favourite of the young, the ardent, and susceptible, there are not wanting several testimonies. In 1595, John Weever had written at the age of nineteen, as he informs us, a collection of Epigrams, which he published in 1599[28:B]; of these the twenty-second is inscribedAd Gulielmum Shakspeare, and contains a curious though quaint encomium on some of the poet's earliest productions:—

"Honie tong'd Shakspeare, when I saw thine issue,I swore Apollo got them, and none other,Their rosie-tainted features clothed in tissue,Some heaven-born goddesse said to be their mother.Rose-cheeckt Adonis with his amber tresses,Faire fire-hot Venus charming him to love her,Chaste Lucretia virgine-like her dresses,Proud lust-stung Tarquine seeking still to prove her."[28:C]

"Honie tong'd Shakspeare, when I saw thine issue,

I swore Apollo got them, and none other,

Their rosie-tainted features clothed in tissue,

Some heaven-born goddesse said to be their mother.

Rose-cheeckt Adonis with his amber tresses,

Faire fire-hot Venus charming him to love her,

Chaste Lucretia virgine-like her dresses,

Proud lust-stung Tarquine seeking still to prove her."[28:C]

In a copy of Speght's edition of Chaucer, which formerly belonged to Dr. Gabriel Harvey, this physician, the noted opponent of Nash, has inserted the following remarks:—"The younger sort take much delight in Shakspeare's Venus and Adonis; but his Lucrece, and his tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmarke, have it in them to please the wiser sort, 1598."[29:A]

Meres, also, in his "Wit's Treasury," published in the same year with the above date, draws a parallel between Ovid and Shakspeare, resulting from the composition of this piece and his other minor poems. "As the soule of Euphorbus," he observes, "was thought to live in Pythagoras, so the sweete wittie soule of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey-tongued Shakspeare, witnes hisVenus and Adonis, his Lucrece, his sugred sonnets among his private friends, &c."[29:B]

A third tribute, and of a similar kind, was paid to the early efforts of our author in 1598, by Richard Barnefield, from which it must be inferred that the versification of Shakspeare was considered by his contemporaries as pre-eminently sweet and melodious, a decision for which many stanzas in theVenus and Adonismight furnish sufficient foundation:—

"And Shakspeare thou, whose honey-flowing vein,(Pleasing the world,) thy praises doth contain,WhoseVenus, and whose Lucrece, sweet and chaste,Thy name in fame's immortal book hath plac'd,Live ever you, at least in fame live ever!Well may the body die, but fame die never."[29:C]

"And Shakspeare thou, whose honey-flowing vein,

(Pleasing the world,) thy praises doth contain,

WhoseVenus, and whose Lucrece, sweet and chaste,

Thy name in fame's immortal book hath plac'd,

Live ever you, at least in fame live ever!

Well may the body die, but fame die never."[29:C]

That singularly curious old comedy, "The Returne from Parnassus," written in 1606, descanting on the poets of the age, introduces Shakspeare solely on account of his miscellaneous poems, astriking proof of their popularity; and, like his predecessors, the author characterises them by the sweetness of their metre:

"Who loves Adonis love, or Lucre's rape,His sweeter verse contaynes hart-robbing life,Could but a graver subject him content,Without love's foolish lazy languishment."[30:A]

"Who loves Adonis love, or Lucre's rape,

His sweeter verse contaynes hart-robbing life,

Could but a graver subject him content,

Without love's foolish lazy languishment."[30:A]

It appears, likewise, from this extract, and will further appear from two subsequent quotations, that the meretricious tendency of theVenus and Adonisdid not altogether escape the notice or the censure of the period which produced it.

A more ample eulogium on the merits of Shakspeare's first production issued from the press in 1607, in a poem composed by William Barksted, and entitled,Mirrha the Mother of Adonis; or Lustes Prodigies, of which the concluding lines thus appreciate the value of his model:—

"But stay, my Muse, in thine own confines keep,And wage not warre with so deere lov'd a neighbour;But having sung thy day-song, rest and sleep;Preserve thy small fame, and his greater favor.His song was worthie merit; Shakspeare, heeSung the faire blossome, thou the wither'd tree:Laurel is due to him; his art and witHath purchas'd it; cyprus thy brows will fit."[30:B]

"But stay, my Muse, in thine own confines keep,

And wage not warre with so deere lov'd a neighbour;

But having sung thy day-song, rest and sleep;

Preserve thy small fame, and his greater favor.

His song was worthie merit; Shakspeare, hee

Sung the faire blossome, thou the wither'd tree:

Laurel is due to him; his art and wit

Hath purchas'd it; cyprus thy brows will fit."[30:B]

A pasquinade on the literature of his times was published by John Davies of Hereford in 1611; it first appeared in his "Scourge of Folly," under the title of "A Scourge for Paper-Persecutors," and among other objects of his satirePaper, here personified, is represented as complaining of the pruriency of Shakspeare's youthful fancy.

"Another (ah, harde happe) mee vilifiesWith art of love, and how to subtilize,Making lewdVenuswith eternal linesTo tieAdonisto her love's designes;Fine wit is shewn therein: but finer 'twere,If not attired in such bawdy geare."[31:A]

"Another (ah, harde happe) mee vilifies

With art of love, and how to subtilize,

Making lewdVenuswith eternal lines

To tieAdonisto her love's designes;

Fine wit is shewn therein: but finer 'twere,

If not attired in such bawdy geare."[31:A]

The charge ofsubtilizingwhich this passage conveys, may certainly be substantiated against the minor poetry of our bard: no small portion of it is visible in theVenus and Adonis; but theRape of Lucreceis extended by its admission to nearly a duplicate of what ought to have been its proper size.

To the quotations now given, as commemorative of Shakspeare's primary effort in poetry, we shall add one, whose note of praise is, that our author was equally excellent in painting lust or continency:—

"Shakspeare, that nimble Mercury thy brainLulls many-hundred Argus' eyes asleep,So fit for all thou fashionest thy vein,At the horse-foot fountain thou hast drunk full deep.Virtue's or vice's theme to thee all one is;Who loves chaste life, there'sLucrecefor a teacher:Who list read lust, there'sVenusandAdonisTrue model of a most lascivious lecher."[31:B]

"Shakspeare, that nimble Mercury thy brain

Lulls many-hundred Argus' eyes asleep,

So fit for all thou fashionest thy vein,

At the horse-foot fountain thou hast drunk full deep.

Virtue's or vice's theme to thee all one is;

Who loves chaste life, there'sLucrecefor a teacher:

Who list read lust, there'sVenusandAdonis

True model of a most lascivious lecher."[31:B]

From the admiration thus warmly expressed by numerous contemporaries, even when connected with slight censure, it will, of course,be inferred that the demand for re-impressions of theVenus and Adoniswould be frequent; and this was, indeed, the fact. In the year following the publication of theeditio princeps, there is reason to conclude that the second impression was printed; for the poem appears again entered in the Stationers' books on the 23d of June, 1594, by —— Harrison, sen.; unless this entry be merely preliminary to the edition of 1596, which was printed in small octavo, by Richard Field, for John Harrison.[32:A]Of the subsequent editions, one was published, in 1600, by John Harrison, in 12mo.; another occurs in 1602, and, in 1607, theVenus and Adoniswas reprinted at Edinburgh, "which must be considered," remarks Mr. Beloe, "as an indubitable proof, that at a very early period the Scotch knew and admired the genius of Shakspeare."[32:B]The title-page of this edition has the same motto as in the original impression; beneath it is a Phœnix in the midst of flames, and then follows "Edinburgh. Printed by John Wreittoun, are to bee sold in his shop, a little beneath the Salt Trone. 1607."

It is highly probable, that between the period of the Edinburgh copy, and the year 1617, the date of the next extant edition, an intervening impression may have been issued;Venus and Adonis, it should be noticed, is entered in the Stationers' Register, by W. Barrett, Feb. 16. 1616; and the next entry is by John Parker, March 8. 1619, preparatory perhaps to the edition which appeared in 1620. In 1630, another re-print was called for, which was again repeated in 1640, and in the various subsequent editions of our author's poems.

The same favourable reception which accompanied the birth and progress of theVenus and Adonisattended, likewise, the next poem which our author produced,The Rape of Lucrece. This was printed in quarto, in 1594, by Richard Field, for John Harrison, and has acopiousArgumentprefixed, which, as Mr. Malone remarks, is a curiosity, being, with the two dedications to the Earl of Southampton, the only prose compositions of our great poet (not in a dramatic form) now remaining.[33:A]

TheRape of Lucreceis written in stanzas of seven lines each; the first four in alternate rhyme; the fifth line corresponding with the second and fourth, and the sixth and seventh lines forming a couplet. To this construction it is probable that Shakspeare was led through the popularity of Daniel'sComplaint of Rosamond, which was published in 1592, and exhibits the same metrical system.

If we had just reason for condemning the prolixity ofVenus and Adonis, a still greater motive for similar censure will be found in theRape of Lucrece, which occupies no less than two hundred and sixty-five stanzas, and, of course, includes one thousand eight hundred and fifty-five lines, whilst the tale, as conducted by Ovid, is impressively related in about one hundred and forty verses!

From what source Shakspeare derived his fable, whether through a classic or a Gothic channel is uncertain. The story is of frequent occurrence in ancient writers; for, independent of the narrative in theFastiof the Roman poet, it has been told byDionysius Halicarnassensis, byLivy, byDion Cassius, andDiodorus Siculus. "I learn from Coxeter's notes," says Warton, "that theFastiwere translated into English verse before the year 1570. If so, the many little pieces now current on the subject ofLucretia, although her legend is in Chaucer, might immediately originate from this source. In 1568, occurs aBallettcalled, 'The grevious complaynt of Lucrece.' And afterwards, in the year 1569, is licenced to James Robertes, 'A ballet of the death of Lucryssia.' There is also a ballad of the legend of Lucrece, printed in 1576. These publications might give rise to Shakspeare'sRape of Lucrece, which appeared in 1594. At this period of our poetry, we find the same subject occupying the attentionof the public for many years, and successively presented in new and various forms by different poets. Lucretia was the grand example of conjugal fidelity throughout the Gothic ages."[34:A]

One material advantage which theRape of Lucrecepossesses over its predecessor, is, that its moral is unexceptionable; and, on this account, we have the authority of Dr. Gabriel Harvey, that it was preferred by thegraverreaders. In every other respect, no very decided superiority, we are afraid, can be adduced. It is more studied and elaborate, it is true; but the result of this labour has in many instances been only an accumulation of far-fetched imagery and fatiguing circumlocution. Yet, notwithstanding these defects, palpable as they are, the poem has not merited the depreciation to which it has been subjected by some very fastidious critics. It occasionally delights us by a few fervid sketches of imagination and description; and by several passages of a moral and pathetic cast, clothed in language of much energy and beauty; and though the general tone of the versification be more heavy and encumbered than that of theVenus and Adonis, it is sometimes distinguished by point, legerity, and grace. The quotations, indeed, which we are about to give from this neglected poem, are not only such as would confer distinction on any work, but, to say more, they are worthy of the poet which produced them.

Of metrical sweetness, of moral reflection, and of splendid and appropriate imagery, we find an exquisite specimen at the very opening of the poem. Collatine, boasting of his felicity "in the possession of his beauteous mate," the bard exclaims—

"O happiness enjoy'd but of a few!And, if possess'd, as soon decayed and doneAs is the morning's silver melting dew,Against the golden splendour of the sun!A date expir'd, and cancel'd ere begun."[34:B]

"O happiness enjoy'd but of a few!

And, if possess'd, as soon decayed and done

As is the morning's silver melting dew,

Against the golden splendour of the sun!

A date expir'd, and cancel'd ere begun."[34:B]

Stanza iv.

We must not omit also the first clause of the sixteenth stanza, which affords an admirable example of spirited and harmonious rhythm. Tarquin in addressing Lucrece:—

"He stories to her ears her husband's fame,Won in the fields of fruitful Italy;And decks with praises Collatine's high name;Made glorious by his manly chivalry,With bruised arms and wreaths of victory."

"He stories to her ears her husband's fame,

Won in the fields of fruitful Italy;

And decks with praises Collatine's high name;

Made glorious by his manly chivalry,

With bruised arms and wreaths of victory."

One of the peculiar excellences of theRape of Lucrece, is its frequent expression of correct sentiment in pointed language and emphatic verse. Tarquin, soliloquising on the crime which he is about to commit, thus gives vent to the agonies of momentary contrition:—

"Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it notTo darken her whose light excelleth thine!And die unhallow'd thoughts, before you blotWith your uncleanness that which is divine!O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!O foul dishonour to my houshold's grave!O impious act, including all foul harms!A martial man to be soft fancy's slave!—What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy!Who buys a minute's mirth, to wail a week?Or sells eternity, to get a toy?"

"Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it notTo darken her whose light excelleth thine!And die unhallow'd thoughts, before you blotWith your uncleanness that which is divine!

"Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not

To darken her whose light excelleth thine!

And die unhallow'd thoughts, before you blot

With your uncleanness that which is divine!

O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!O foul dishonour to my houshold's grave!O impious act, including all foul harms!A martial man to be soft fancy's slave!—

O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!

O foul dishonour to my houshold's grave!

O impious act, including all foul harms!

A martial man to be soft fancy's slave!—

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy!Who buys a minute's mirth, to wail a week?Or sells eternity, to get a toy?"

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?

A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy!

Who buys a minute's mirth, to wail a week?

Or sells eternity, to get a toy?"

The same terseness of diction and concinnity of versification appear in the subsequent lines:—

"Then for thy husband's and thy children's sake,Tender my suit: bequeath not to their lotThe shame that from them no device can take,The blemish that will never be forgot."

"Then for thy husband's and thy children's sake,

Tender my suit: bequeath not to their lot

The shame that from them no device can take,

The blemish that will never be forgot."

It may, likewise, be added, that simplicity and strength in the modulation, together with a forcible plainness of phraseology, characterise a few stanzas, of which one shall be given as an instance:—

"O teach me how to make mine own excuse!Or, at the least, this refuge let me find;Though my gross blood be stain'd with this abuse,Immaculate and spotless is my mind;That was not forc'd; that never was inclin'dTo accessary yieldings—but, still pure,Doth in her poison'd closet yet endure."

"O teach me how to make mine own excuse!

Or, at the least, this refuge let me find;

Though my gross blood be stain'd with this abuse,

Immaculate and spotless is my mind;

That was not forc'd; that never was inclin'd

To accessary yieldings—but, still pure,

Doth in her poison'd closet yet endure."

To these short examples, which are selected for the purpose of showing, not only the occasional felicity of the poet in the mechanism of his verse, but the uncommon and unapprehended worth of what this mechanism is the vehicle, we shall subjoin three passages of greater length, illustrative of what this early production of our author's Muse can exhibit in the three great departments of thedescriptive, thepathetic, and themorally sublime.

Lucrece, in the paroxysms of her grief, is represented as telling her mournful story

"To pencil'd pensiveness and coloured sorrow,"

to a piece

"Of skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy,"

where

"Many a dry drop seemed a weeping tear,Shed for the slaughtered husband by the wife;"

"Many a dry drop seemed a weeping tear,

Shed for the slaughtered husband by the wife;"

and where

"The red blood reek'd to show the painter's strife,And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights:"

"The red blood reek'd to show the painter's strife,

And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights:"

"She throws her eyes about the painting round,And whom she finds forlorn, she doth lament;At last she sees a wretched image bound,That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent;His face, though full of cares, yet show'd content:Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes,So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes.In him the painter labour'd with his skillTo hide deceit, and give the harmless showAn humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still,A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe;Cheeks, neither red nor pale, but mingled soThat blushing red no guilty instance gave,Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have.But like a constant and confirmed devil,He entertain'd a show so seeming just,And therein so ensconc'd his secret evil,That jealousy itself could not mistrust——The well-skill'd workman this mild image drewFor perjur'd Sinon."

"She throws her eyes about the painting round,

And whom she finds forlorn, she doth lament;

At last she sees a wretched image bound,

That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent;

His face, though full of cares, yet show'd content:

Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes,

So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes.

In him the painter labour'd with his skillTo hide deceit, and give the harmless showAn humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still,A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe;Cheeks, neither red nor pale, but mingled soThat blushing red no guilty instance gave,Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have.

In him the painter labour'd with his skill

To hide deceit, and give the harmless show

An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still,

A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe;

Cheeks, neither red nor pale, but mingled so

That blushing red no guilty instance gave,

Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have.

But like a constant and confirmed devil,He entertain'd a show so seeming just,And therein so ensconc'd his secret evil,That jealousy itself could not mistrust——

But like a constant and confirmed devil,

He entertain'd a show so seeming just,

And therein so ensconc'd his secret evil,

That jealousy itself could not mistrust——

The well-skill'd workman this mild image drewFor perjur'd Sinon."

The well-skill'd workman this mild image drew

For perjur'd Sinon."

This is a picture, of which the colouring, but too often overcharged in every other part of the poem, may be pronounced chaste and correct.

A simple and unaffected flow of thought, expressed in diction of equal purity and plainness, are essential requisites towards the production of the pathetic, either in poetry or prose; and, unfortunately, in theRape of Lucrece, these excellences, especially in their combined state, are of very rare occurrence. We are not, however, totally destitute of passages which, by their tenderness and simplicity, appeal to the heart. Thus the complete wretchedness of Lucretia is powerfully and simply painted in the following lines:—

"The little birds that tune their morning's joy,Make her moans mad with their sweet melody.For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy;Sad souls are slain in merry company;Grief best is pleas'd with grief's society:True sorrow then is feelingly suffic'd,When with like semblance it is sympathiz'd."

"The little birds that tune their morning's joy,

Make her moans mad with their sweet melody.

For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy;

Sad souls are slain in merry company;

Grief best is pleas'd with grief's society:

True sorrow then is feelingly suffic'd,

When with like semblance it is sympathiz'd."

She, accordingly, invokes the melancholy nightingale, and invites her, from similarity of fate, to be her companion in distress.—

"And for, poor bird, thou sing'st not in the day,As shaming any eye should thee behold,Some dark deep desert, seated from the way,That knows nor parching heat nor freezing cold,Will we find out; and there we will unfoldTo creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds:Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds."

"And for, poor bird, thou sing'st not in the day,

As shaming any eye should thee behold,

Some dark deep desert, seated from the way,

That knows nor parching heat nor freezing cold,

Will we find out; and there we will unfold

To creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds:

Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds."

"Shakspeare has here," says Mr. Malone, in a note on the first of these stanzas, "as in all his writings, shown an intimate acquaintancewith the human heart. Every one that has felt the pressure of grief will readily acknowledge thatmirth doth search the bottom of annoy."[38:A]

The last specimen which we shall select from this poem, would alone preserve it from oblivion, were it necessary to protect from such a fate any work which bears the mighty name of Shakspeare. Indeed, whether we consider this extract in relation to its diction, its metre, its sentiment, or the sublimity of its close, it is alike calculated to excite our admiration:—

"Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring;Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers;The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing;What virtue breeds, iniquity devours:We have no good that we can say is ours,But ill-annexed opportunityOr kills his life, or else his quality.O, Opportunity! thy guilt is great:'Tis thou that execut'st the traitor's treason;Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get;Whoever plots the sin, thou point'st the season;'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason;And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him."

"Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring;

Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers;

The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing;

What virtue breeds, iniquity devours:

We have no good that we can say is ours,

But ill-annexed opportunity

Or kills his life, or else his quality.

O, Opportunity! thy guilt is great:'Tis thou that execut'st the traitor's treason;Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get;Whoever plots the sin, thou point'st the season;'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason;And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him."

O, Opportunity! thy guilt is great:

'Tis thou that execut'st the traitor's treason;

Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get;

Whoever plots the sin, thou point'st the season;

'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason;

And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,

Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him."

We have already seen, that, in the passages quoted from contemporary writers in favour ofVenus and Adonis, theRape of Lucrecehas, with the exception of two instances, been honoured with equal notice and equal approbation. Here, therefore, it will only be necessary to add those notices in which the latter production is the exclusive object of praise.

Of these, the earliest[38:B]is to be found in the first edition ofDrayton's"Matilda, the faire and chaste Daughter of Lord Robert Fitzwater," published in 1594, a few months, or probably weeks, after the appearance of theRape of Lucrece. In this impression, andsolelyin this impression, the Heroine thus eulogises the composition of our bard:—

"Lucrece, of whom proud Rome hath boasted long,Lately reviv'd to live another age,And here arriv'd to tell of Tarquin's wrong,Her chaste denial, and the tyrants rage,Acting her passions on our stately stage,She is remember'd, all forgetting me,Yet I as fair find chaste as ere was she."[39:A]

"Lucrece, of whom proud Rome hath boasted long,

Lately reviv'd to live another age,

And here arriv'd to tell of Tarquin's wrong,

Her chaste denial, and the tyrants rage,

Acting her passions on our stately stage,

She is remember'd, all forgetting me,

Yet I as fair find chaste as ere was she."[39:A]

The year following Drayton's Matilda, a work was printed in quarto, under the title ofPolimanteia, in the margin of which Shakspeare'sLucreceis thus cursorily mentioned. "All praise-worthy Lucretia, Sweet Shakspeare."[39:B]

The next separate notice of this poem occurs in some verses prefixed to the second edition of "Willobie his Avisa," which appeared in 1596. They are subscribedContraria Contrariis Vigilantius Dormitanus, and open with the allusion to Shakspeare's Lucrece:—

"In lavine land though Livie boast,There hath beene seene a constant dame;Though Rome lament that she have lostThe garland of her rarest fame,Yet now ye see that here is foundAs great a faith in English ground.Though Collatine have dearly boughtTo high renowne a lasting life,And found, that most in vaine have soughtTo have a faire and constant wife,Yet Tarquine pluckt his glistring grape,And Shake-speare paintes poor Lucrece rape."[40:A]

"In lavine land though Livie boast,

There hath beene seene a constant dame;

Though Rome lament that she have lost

The garland of her rarest fame,

Yet now ye see that here is found

As great a faith in English ground.

Though Collatine have dearly boughtTo high renowne a lasting life,And found, that most in vaine have soughtTo have a faire and constant wife,Yet Tarquine pluckt his glistring grape,And Shake-speare paintes poor Lucrece rape."[40:A]

Though Collatine have dearly bought

To high renowne a lasting life,

And found, that most in vaine have sought

To have a faire and constant wife,

Yet Tarquine pluckt his glistring grape,

And Shake-speare paintes poor Lucrece rape."[40:A]

To these contemporary notices, with the view of showing what was thought of theRape of Lucrecehalf a century after its production, we shall subjoin the opinion ofS. Sheppard, who, in "The Times Displayed in Six Sestyads," printed in 1646, 4to., comparing Shakspeare with Euripides, Sophocles, and Aristophanes, adds—

"His sweet and his to be admired layHe wrote of lustful Tarquin's rape, shews heDid understand the depth of poesie."[40:B]

"His sweet and his to be admired lay

He wrote of lustful Tarquin's rape, shews he

Did understand the depth of poesie."[40:B]

The editions of theRape of Lucrecewere as numerous as those of theVenus and Adonis. "In thirteen years after their first appearance,"remarks Mr. Malone, "six impressions of each of them were printed, while in the same period, hisRomeo and Juliet, one of his most popular plays, passed only twice through the press."[41:A]

Of the early re-impressions, those which are extant, are in small octavo, of the date 1596, 1598, 1600, 1607, 1616, 1624, 1632, &c. In the title of that which was published in 1616, occur the wordsnewly revised and corrected. "When this copy first came to my hands," says Mr. Malone, "it occurred to me, that our author had perhaps an intention of revising and publishing all his works, (which his fellow-comedians, in their preface to his plays, seem to hint he would have done, if he had lived,) and that he began with this early production of his muse, but was prevented by death from completing his scheme; for he died in the same year in which thiscorrectedcopy ofLucrece(as it is called) was printed. But on an attentive examination of this edition, I have not the least doubt that the piece was revised by some other hand. It is so far from being correct, that it is certainly the most inaccurate and corrupt of all the ancient copies."[41:B]

To the Rape of Lucrece succeeds, in the order of publication, thePassionate Pilgrim. This imperfect collection of our author's minor pieces was printed by W. Jaggard in 1599, in small octavo, and with the poet's name.

Not only is this little work entitled to notice from the priority of its public appearance, before the larger collection termed "Sonnets;" but there is, we think, sufficient proof that a part of its contents had, as compositions, a prior origin. It opens with a sonnet inserted inLove's Labour's Lost[42:A], a play which, according to Mr. Chalmers, was written in 1592, and not later, even in the calculation of Mr. Malone, than 1594. The second sonnet, and the fourth, seventh, and ninth, are founded on the story ofVenus and Adonis, and, from their similarity in diction, imagery, and sentiment, to "the first heir" of the poet's "invention," appear to have been originally intended, either for insertion in the greater work, or were preludes to its composition: they "seem," remarks Mr. Malone, "to have been essays of the author when he first conceived the idea of writing a poem on the subject of Venus and Adonis, and before the scheme of his poem was adjusted;" and he adds, in a subsequent page, that the eighth sonnet "seems to have been intended for a dirge to be sung by Venus on the death of Adonis."[42:B]

Beside these intimations of very early composition in thePassionate Pilgrim, a similar inference may be drawn from our author's allusion, in his sixth sonnet, to Dowland as a celebrated lutenist, and from a notice in the old copy that the ballad commencing "It was a lording's daughter," and the five following poems, were set to music, which music, says Oldys, in one of his manuscripts, was the composition of John and Thomas Morley. Now Dowland had obtained celebrity in his art as early as 1590; and in 1597, when Bachelor of Music in both the universities, published his first book of Songs or Airs, in four parts, for the Lute; and Tho. Morley, who, there is reason to believe, was deceased in 1600, had still earlier been in vogue, and continued to publish his compositions until 1597, in which year appeared his Canzonets.

When Meres, therefore, printed hisWit's Treasuryin 1598, it is highly probable that the close of the following passage, already quotedfor a different purpose, and which has been thought to refer exclusively to the "Sonnets" afterwards published in 1609, particularly alluded also to the sonnets of thePassionate Pilgrim, which had been privately circulated and set to music by Dowland and Morley. "As the soul of Euphorbus," says he, "was thought to live in Pythagoras, so the sweet witty soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey-tongued Shakspeare. Witness his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece,his sugred Sonnetsamong his private friends, &c."

It is remarkable that the year following this notice by Meres, appeared Jaggard's first edition of thePassionate Pilgrim. May we not conclude, therefore, that this encomium on the manuscript sonnets of Shakspeare, induced Jaggard to collect all the lyric poetry of our author which he could obtain through his own research and that of his friends, and to publish it surreptitiously with a title of his own manufacture? That it was not sent into the world under the direction, or even with the knowledge of Shakspeare, must be evident from the circumstance of Marlowe's madrigal,Come live with me, &c.being inserted in the collection; nor is it likely, setting this error aside, that Shakspeare, in his thirty-third year, at a time when he had written several plays including some dramatic songs, and undoubtedly had produced a large portion of the sonnets which were given to the world in 1609, would have published a Collection so scanty and unconnected as thePassionate Pilgrim, which, independent of Marlowe's poem, contains but twenty pieces.

Indeed we are warranted in attributing not only the edition of 1599 solely to the officiousness of Jaggard, but likewise two subsequent impressions, of which the last furnishes us with some further curious proofs of this printer's skill in book-making, and also with an interesting anecdote relative to our bard.

The precise period when the second edition issued from the press was unknown to Mr. Malone[43:A], and is not yet ascertained; but thethird edition, printed in 1612, in small octavo, and published by W. Jaggard, is connected with the following literary history.

In 1609, Thomas Heywood published a folio volume entitled "Troia Britanica: or, Great Britaine's Troy. A Poem, devided into 17 severall Cantons, intermixed with many pleasant poeticall Tales. Concluding with an Universal Chronicle from the Creation, untill these present Times." This work was printed and published by William Jaggard, and includes two translations from Ovid, namely the epistles of Paris to Helen, and Helen to Paris, "which being so pertinent to our historie," says Heywood, "I thought necessary to translate."

It happened, unfortunately for the honest fame of Jaggard, that when he published the third edition of thePassionate Pilgrimin 1612, he was tempted, with the view of increasing the size of his volume, to insert these versions by Heywood, dropping, however, the translator's name, and, of course, suffering them to be ascribed to Shakspeare, who appears in the title-page as the author of the entire collection.

Shortly after this imposition on the public had gone forth, Heywood produced his "Apology for Actors. Containing three briefe Treatises. 1. Their Antiquity. 2. Their Ancient Dignity. 3. The true use of their quality. London: Printed by Nicholas Okes, 1612," 4to.; and at the close of this thin treatise, which consists but of sixty pages, the author addresses the following remarkable epistle to hisnewbookseller:—

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