cMJ 
 
 Book 
 
 PR 2923 
 1864 
 J.L6 
 Copy 1 
 
 Author 
 
 Titie 
 
 Imprint 
 
 •F-o 10—74(54 
 
 J 
 
lotofJl Maltspuarc Mi;m0rial. 
 
 (oQC> 
 
 EXERCISES 
 
 or THE BIRTH OF 
 
 WILLIAM SHAKSPEAEE, 
 
 -A.F»RIIli 23, 1864, 
 
 KY THE ('[TIZENS OF LOWELL, MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 L U W !■: L L , 31 A S S . : 
 STONE & HUSE, PRINTERS, COURIER OFFICE, NO. 21 CENTRAL STREET 
 
 1864. 
 
.^.^......^r.^r^nl^^K^^^'^i^,^ 
 
i^^YYVW' 
 
 
 EXERCISES 
 
 OF THE BIRTH OF 
 
 WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 
 
 .A-FRIXj S3, 1864, 
 
 BY THE CITIZENS OF LOWELL, MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 LOWELL, MASS.: 
 STONE & HUSE, PRINTERS, COURIER OFFICE, NO. 21 CENTRAL STREET. 
 
 1864. 
 
.L4 
 
Lowell, April 26th, 18G4. 
 
 Eevekkkd Sik: 
 
 At a meeting of the Committee of Arrangements for the Ter-Centen- 
 
 ary Celebration of the Birth of Shakspeai-e, I was instructed to present you their most 
 
 cordial thanks for your able, scholarly and instructive Oration delivered on that occasion 
 
 before the citizens of Lowell, on Saturday last, and to request of you a copy thereof for 
 
 publication. Yours respectfully, 
 
 JOHN F. McEVOY, 
 
 For the Committee. 
 The Kev. Wm. S. Bartlet, Chelsea, Mass. 
 
 Chelsea, April 29th, 1864. 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Permit me to thank the Committee for their favorable estimate of my 
 
 Oration delivered on the twenty-third instant, and to comply with their request by placing 
 
 the manuscript at their disposal. 
 
 No one can be more conscious of its defects than myself. But when I remind you that 
 
 only three weeks were allowed me for the preparation of a commemorative address on the 
 
 great Poet, when three months would hardly suffice for such an etibrt, I trust that some of 
 
 the defects in the Oration may be excused. 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 WM. S. BARTLET. 
 John F. McEvoy, Esq., Lowell, Mass. 
 
% 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 The Three Hundredth Anniversary of the birth of the great English 
 Poet, William Shakspeare, which occurred on the twenty-third day of 
 April, A. D., 1864, was an event of marked interest to all those not only 
 in England, but through the civilized world, who are accustomed to revere 
 the memory of the great lights of the literary world. It has always been 
 held productive of great good, on proper occasions, to celebrate the anni- 
 versaries of some marked event in the lives of great men. Comparisons 
 are excited between the times in which they flourished and those in which 
 we move. We love to dwell in imagination on the events that surrounded 
 them, out of which their thoughts may have grown, or what they wrote 
 and said may have had their origin. And we do this not in any spirit 
 of man- worship, nor is there in the reverence we yield to the memory of 
 great men anything that savors of small-mindedness, or which is likely to 
 take away the individuality we possess and on which we pride ourselves. 
 Bather, it is a symptom that a certain sympathy exisits between us and 
 them, a feeling that though their works were great, they themselves were 
 human like ourselves, and that they serve as a connecting link between 
 us and myriads of our fellow-men, who enjoy and profit by their labors 
 no less than we. 
 
 If the feeling that interests us in the memory of great men, is strong 
 when we contemplate the long line of intellectual giants who through the 
 ages have labored to elevate man's condition, how much preeminence is 
 due to the memory of the great Dramatist, Scholar and Philosopher, 
 William Shakspeare ! As Time rolls on, far from dimming the bright- 
 ness of his great name, it adds additional lustre to it. The number who 
 read his works is continually increasing, and the mine of wealth he 
 planted centuries ago, has not yet yielded to the exhaustive research of 
 even the minds of our day. Centuries may still further roll on, and his 
 works will be as fruitful of the instruction and entertainment in which 
 we delight, as they are to-day. Even as long as the English language is 
 read and spoken, so long we may anticipate will the influence of his broad 
 
and compreliensive mind be felt in the shaping of the minds of men. 
 Truly can it be said of him, that " he was not for an age, but for all 
 time." 
 
 With this feeling, as the Three Hundredth Anniversary of his Birth 
 approached, a desire arose in various minds that the occasion should be 
 noticed in Lowell. Extensive and magnificent ceremonials were prepared 
 in England. In the great cities of America, also, were festivals to be 
 held, and in countries where languages different from his were spoken, 
 was his memory to be honored. AVe chose not to be behindhand in the 
 work, and the government of the Middlesex Mechanics' Association, on 
 motion of H. Gr. F. Corliss, Esq., the pioneer of the movement, was in- 
 structed at a quarterly meeting of the Association to consider the expedi- 
 ency of celebrating the day. Under the auspices of this organization, 
 one of the most respectable and ancient literary bodies in the county, the 
 festival should have been conducted. Unfortunately, however, the gov- 
 ernment of the Association were timid enough to fear that the movement 
 must prove a failure, and so declined to act. Nothing then remained but 
 that the citizens' should take the matter in hand themselves, 
 
 A few of the citizens almost involuntarily assembled together, and 
 immediately organized themselves into a Committee for work. Erom the 
 active part they took, and the success their efforts met with, their names 
 deserve honorable mention here. The Committee, as organized, were as 
 follows, viz.: — 
 
 Hon. John A. Goodwin, Chairman, 
 H. G. E. Corliss, Perez Euller, 
 
 Egbert Prince, David G. Lang, 
 
 Henry H. Wilder, William E. Salmon, 
 
 A. A. Haggett, Ithamar Beard, and 
 
 J. E. McEvoy, Secretary. 
 
 Subscription lists were issued and circulated among the citizens to defray 
 the necessary expenses, and sufficient funds were soon raised. 
 
 On the afternoon of the day, Huntington Hall, the largest public room 
 in the city, was thrown open, and soon filled with a highly appreciative audi- 
 ence. The platform had been previously decorated with flags — the entire 
 decoration embowering, in a very beautiful manner, a bust of Shakspeare. 
 The decorations were designed by Mr. Alfred Gilman, and reflected 
 great credit upon that gentleman's taste. In the gallery were a hundred 
 children from the public schools, under the direction of Mr. George E. 
 
WiLLEY, a well known music teacher, who furnished the music for the 
 occasion. Hon. Elisha Huntington, M. D., the first of our ex-Mayors 
 living, and ex-Lieutenant Governor, acted as President. The following 
 persons had been appointed as Vice Presidents : — Hon. John Nesmith, 
 U. S. Collector of Internal Eevenue, ex-Lieutenant Governor, and twice 
 an Elector of President of the LTnited States ; Hon. Tappan Wentworth, 
 ex-member of Congress and ex-State Senator ; Hon. ChaunceyL. Knapp, 
 ex-member of Congress ; Hon. John A. Goodwin, ex-Speaker of the 
 Massachusetts House of Eepresentatives ; Hon. Nathan Crosby, Judge of 
 Police Court ; Hon. Jefferson Bancroft, ex-Mayor ; Hon. Josiah B. 
 French, ex-Mayor ; Hon. James H. B. Ayer, ex-Mayor ; Hon. Sewall 
 G. Mack, ex-Mayor ; Hon. Ambrose Lawrence, ex-Mayor ; Hon. James 
 Cook, ex-Mayor ; Hon. Benjamin C. Sargeant, ex-Mayor ; Hon. Hocum 
 HosFORD, the present Mayor ; Hon. Josiah G. Peabody, ex-State Coun- 
 cillor ; Hon. John A. Knowles, ex-State Senator ; Hon. John A. But- 
 trick, ex-State Senator; Hon. Arthur P. Bonney, ex-State Senator; 
 Hon. Ephraim B. Patch, ex-State Senator ; Hon. Daniel S. Eichardson, 
 ex-State Senator; Hon. Samuel A. Brown, present State Senator; Wil- 
 liam S. SouTHWORTH, Alderman ; James B. Erancis, Alderman ; Dana 
 B. Gove, Alderman ; William T. McNeill, Alderman ; George W. Nor- 
 Ris, Alderman ; George Eunels, Alderman ; Cyrus H. Latham, Alder- 
 man ; George F. Eichardson, Alderman ; and George Eipley, Presi- 
 dent of the Common Council — most of whom, with other prominent citi- 
 zens, were present on or around the platform of the speaker. 
 
 The following programme had been printed and circulated among the 
 audience, detailing the different exercies of the afternoon : 
 
 ^hxtt ^mibrebtlj giimittcrsarg of ^Ijabp^au's §irt^bag. 
 
 Exercises in Huntington Hall, Lowell, Saturday Afternoon, April 23rd, 1864, at 2^ o'clock. 
 
 SINGING BY A CHOIR OF ONE HUNDRED MISSES 
 
 From the Public Schools, under the direction of Mr. George F. Willey. 
 Order of Exercises. 
 
 1. Opening Eemarks by the President Hon. Elisha Huntington . 
 
 2. Singing " Jewels of the Mind." 
 
 3. Prayer by .' Per. Owen Street . 
 
 4. Singing of an Original Ode, written by Mr. W. F. Salmon . 
 
 5. Oration on Shakspeare by Rev. W. S Bartlet, Chelsea, Mass. 
 
 6. Singing "Fair Science Bright." 
 
 7. Readings from Shakspeare' s Works by Miss Helen Eastman. 
 
 8. Singing " America." 
 
 The President opened the exercises in a short hut neat and pertinent 
 address, in which he spoke of the immense benefit Shakspeare had been 
 to the world. 
 
Then followed tlie singing, in a very beautiful and effective manner 
 of music, entitled ''Jewels of Mind," by the cboir of misses under Mr. 
 Willey's direction ; at the conclusion of which, the Divine Tavor was 
 invoked in a very impressive prayer by the Kev. Owen Street. 
 
 The following original ode was very kindly furnished for the occasion 
 by Mr. Salmon, of the Committee. It was prepared for the old and 
 familiar tune of " Autumn," to meet the musical acquirements of the 
 young misses of the choir. It was performed very acceptably, and added 
 not a little to the interest of the occasion : 
 
 OEIGINAL ODE. 
 
 Sung to the Tune of " Autumn^ 
 
 Whose the mind the world o'er spreaduig, 
 
 With its wondrous, magic power, 
 Calls us from the paths we're treading, 
 
 To do homage at this hour ? 
 Shakspeare! thine is so commanding; 
 
 To thy memory would we sing; 
 Tribute to thy fame demanding, 
 
 To thy shrine, we offerings bring. 
 
 Shakspeare's words suit every station, 
 
 " Every man should take his own." 
 Grateful for that mind's creation. 
 
 And the seeds which it has sown. 
 Each with each, in chain unbroken, 
 
 Mingle here in friendship bright, 
 And with cheerful, festive token, 
 
 Seek new joy in Shakspeare's light. 
 
 Would the drama to full stature 
 
 Grow, and chain our sympathy ; 
 " Hold the mirror up to nature," 
 
 Ever must it's motto be. 
 Thus appears, to all observant, 
 
 Shakspeare's mark — his certain aim; 
 If at times, he wrote too fervent. 
 
 Nature pleads, she fanned the flame. 
 
 Thrice one hundred years now ending. 
 
 Since he saw the light first beam, 
 With each year his fame extending. 
 
 All lands with his praises teem ; 
 So we here in dear New England, 
 
 Tribute to his greatness pay, 
 .Joining with the far off Home-land, '^ 
 
 Honoring the natal day. 
 
 The oration, on the life and character of the great Poet, then fol- 
 lowed. 
 
OEATION, 
 
 WILLIAM S. BAETLET, A. M., 
 
 A Presbyter of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and a Member of the Massachusetts 
 
 Historical Society, and of the New England Historic-Genealogical Society, 
 
 and a Corresponding Member of the Maine and the 
 
 Kew York Historical Societies. 
 
 Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen:- — 
 
 It is well at times for eacli of us to be " transported beyond the 
 ignorant present," and, if we cannot "feel the future in the instant," 
 to go back in imagination to scenes and transactions which lie in the dim 
 past. Let us, then, fancy ourselves to be spectators of events on which the 
 dust of three centuries has settled, and in a land where the remote ances- 
 tors of most of us have been gathered to their final earthly rest. The 
 commencement of this period will be at a time when the foot of no white 
 man had ever trod the shores of the present United States, — its termina- 
 tion will anticipate by four years that memorable day when the 
 ** Pilgrims " landed on Plymouth Eock. 
 
 Go, then, with me to England in the early part of the reign of Queen 
 Elizabeth, to a town or borough, in itself of no marked importance, in one 
 of the inland counties. There is a family there, at the time of which we 
 are speaking, the father of whom is a person comparatively wealthy, and 
 holding a prominent office in the borough. The mother is of gentle blood, 
 being descended from one of the old families in the neighborhood, which 
 probably took its name from an extensive forest in the north part of the 
 
10 
 
 county. A like natural feature, having in substance the same name, on 
 the Continent of Europe, has been immortalized by Byron in those stanzas 
 of his which are descriptive of the Battle of Waterloo. In that season of 
 the year when nature is putting on her fresh and joyous robes, a child is 
 born to the parents. The time of his birth coincided with the day dedi- 
 cated to St. George, the Patron Saint of "Merrie England." Three cen- 
 turies before, the most noble order of knighthood in Europe had been in- 
 stituted by a British Sovereign, which order bore the name of the Saint 
 mentioned. Taking these facts together, and considering the rude and 
 unlettered character of the age, it may be that the bells of the beautiful 
 church of the native place of the one to whom we have alluded were ring- 
 ing out their joyous peals on the day of his birth in honor of the Saint 
 spoken of. Between that time and his early marriage, hardly a single in- 
 cident of his life has been preserved to us. His father during this period 
 held many offices in the borough. He was for one year at least its chief 
 magistrate. From some unexplained cause, the worldly prosperity of the 
 family afterwards suffered considerable abatement. 
 
 At the age of fourteen, the boy of whose birth we have spoken, was 
 removed from school, probably that he might assist his father, who was an 
 agriculturist, and who perhaps followed one or more callings not incon- 
 sistent with this occupation. In his nineteenth year, the subject of our 
 notice was married to the daughter of a neighbor of the same calling with 
 his father. In the course of three years the married couple find them- 
 selves the parents of as many children. In 1589, at the age of twenty- 
 five, the young father is in London, probably with the intent of bettering 
 his worldly fortune. Before he is twenty-eight years old, he begins to 
 write for the stage, and, in the course of twenty-two years, he has produced 
 over thirty dramas, besides four or five poems, and a number of sonnets. 
 During the larger part of this period he is an actor himself, and a proprie- 
 tor of one or more of the theatres in London. By the time he is forty 
 years old, he has purchased one of the most costly estates in his native 
 place, and has made other large investments in landed property. Leaving 
 London he passes the last few years of his life with his family, and at the 
 age of fifty-two dies on his birth-day, and is buried in the chancel of the 
 same beautiful church in which he was baptized. 
 
11 
 
 Such is a brief sketcli of the life of William Shakspeare, the 
 three hundreth anniversary of whose birth we are this day met to celebrate. 
 Although much labor and care have been used in collecting the incidents 
 of his biography, but little success has crowned these efforts. Many im- 
 probable, and even childish incidents have been introduced by his biog- 
 raphers to swell their record ; but the amount of authentic information 
 that we possess on this point is small indeed. It gives me, I can assure 
 you, ladies and gentlemen, much pleasure to contribute something, how- 
 ever small, to the remembrance of one so worthy of being held in honor. 
 
 There are special reasons why the States of Massachusetts and Maine 
 should not suffer the event we commemorate to pass unnoticed. Among 
 the earliest productions of Shakspeare's Muse were the Poems, entitled 
 "Venus and Adonis" and "Lucrece." Both of these he dedicated to 
 Henry, the third Earl of Southampton, who is said to have presented 
 Shakspeare at one time with the munificent sum of £1,000 sterling, 
 equivalent to four or five times that amount at the present day. This noble- 
 man was renowned for his virtues and rare qualities. In a hard-fought 
 battle he behaved with such gallantry, that he was knighted by the Earl 
 of Essex, ** ere " (says a contemporary writer) " he could dry the sweat 
 from his brow, or put his sword up in the scabbard." When I mention 
 that he was imprisoned by Queen Elizabeth, simply because he married the 
 cousin of the Earl of Essex, to whom he was affianced, without obtain- 
 ing the assent of his Eoyal Mistress, I am pretty sure that the ladies will 
 take an interest in this gallant soldier. He is entitled to our sympathies 
 for the unmerited persecution that he suffered. But our special interest 
 in him arises from the fact that he was the earl?/ and persevering friend 
 of American colonization. His name appears in the great Charters of 
 Virginia, (as all America was then termed.) He expended large sums of 
 money on America, as he did on Shakspeare. W^ith another noble friend 
 he fitted out an expedition, which attempted to plant the first colony in 
 Massachusetts ; and in a subsequent year, the same generous spirits des- 
 patched an expedition, which took back accounts of the shores and of one 
 of the noblest rivers of the present State of Maine. 
 
 The two Commonwealths, then, must look up to this Earl of South- 
 ampton, as one of their earliest benefactors. He was also, as we have 
 
12 
 
 seen, a munificent patron of Shakspeare. In this way this nohleman con- 
 nects these States with the subject of this day's commemoration. In honor- 
 ing Shakspeare we may be said to honor his noble and virtuous friend, 
 one to whom as a community we are under no little obligation. Yet, 
 one of the States named permits the day to pass unnoticed ! The 
 other State had made no movement in this matter up to February 
 last. And when he who now addresses you proposed to some leading mem- 
 bers of a Society, whose province it is to honor the past, that they should 
 publicly manifest their sense of the importance of this day, the proposi- 
 tion was received with coldness ; although at last importunity prevailed, 
 and an appropriate celebration was determined upon. 
 
 It is pleasant to see this community come forward of its own accord 
 on this occasion. Occupied as many citizens of this place are in pursuits, 
 which would appear not to be particularly favorable to any literary enter- 
 prizes, yet we have a proof to-day, that enough are found, even of the 
 most active and apparently engaged among them, to exert themselves to 
 honor the memory of Shakspeare. We may well believe that in future 
 biographies of the Bard, this fact, so honorable to him and to yourselves, 
 will not be omitted^ And, if, as I fear, but two or three celebrations of 
 the kind shall take place in this country, the celebration of the people of 
 Lowell will receive a prominent notice. 
 
 Shakspeare is much more popular in the United States than he is in 
 his native land. There are probably fifty readers of him in America to 
 one reader in England. Published as the editions of his works have been 
 at a low price on this side of the water, wherever a collection of a few 
 dozen distinct works is seen in a household, one of them is pretty surely 
 the Works of William Shakspeare. Now, were he less extensively known 
 than this fact would seem to indicate, my task on this occasion would be 
 much lessened. 
 
 You have assembled here to-day, not so much, I presume, to listen to 
 any novel speculations concerning this writer, as to rejoice that such a 
 gift as he was to literature was bestowed on mortals. In performing my 
 part on this joyful occasion, I must of necessity say much that has been 
 said better before. But when children who have been widely scattered, 
 assemble in after life, under the ancestral roof-tree, it is the dearest and 
 
most sacred part of their joy, not to compare their varied experiences 
 during the period of their separation, and thus to listen to new matter, but 
 to call up the remembrances of their childhood. The mere recital of these, 
 though well-known to all present, will more deeply move their strongest 
 feelings, than the story of the most exciting events that have happened to 
 individuals of the family since they left the homestead. The latter events 
 excite mainly their curiosity, the former move their hearts. And so my 
 attempt to point out in some small degree the wondrous power of Shaks- 
 peare, and my recital of his language may perhaps bring back part of the 
 glow you have felt when reading him for yourself. The airs of '* Home, 
 Sweet Home!" and "Bonnie Doune," never tire by repetition. A discus- 
 sion of Shakspeare's merits, however feeble that discussion may be, never 
 wearies him or her, who has formed any acquaintance with the wondrous 
 Poet. 
 
 The great claim that Shakspeare has to commemoration is, that 
 
 HE WAS THE MOST EMINENT GENIUS THE WORLD HAS EVER PRODUCED. 
 
 Now, were he one who flourished in G-reece or Eome, this character- 
 istic of him, while it might move our wonder, would not excite a very 
 wide-spread interest in his writings. For in that case, his beauties could 
 be appreciated only by classical scholars. To the majority they would 
 possess no interest. But we Americans rejoice that " Shakspeare's lan- 
 guage is our mother-tongue." The ancestors of many of us repose in the 
 same country in which his remains are laid. He deals with many topics 
 which we can understand and appreciate. In fact we feel that he be- 
 longs to us as much as to his immediate countrymen. He is our Shaks- 
 peare, no less than he is theirs. Eegarding him with a veneration mingled 
 with love, we can but feebly estimate the influence he has exerted upon 
 the taste, the modes of thought, and even the morals of the community 
 during the last two hundred and fifty years. 
 
 Shakspeare has been charged with indecency , and this has been as- 
 signed by some as a reason why his works should not be read. We admit 
 the charge in the sense of indecency of expression, but deny that there 
 is any studied indecency in the thoughts. But there are some circum- 
 stances which will go far to weaken the force of the charge, even with 
 the abatement named. 
 
14 
 
 1. His productions will not usually interest persons until they ar- 
 rive at an age when, it is to be trusted, their principles are usually so es- 
 tablished as not to be injured by mere license of language. 
 
 2. The conversation, as well as the manners of Shakspeare's time dis- 
 played a grossness, which our present notions of propriety would not tole- 
 rate. We flatter ourselves indeed that we are more modest and more moral 
 than our ancestors were. If this be really so, there is a reason for thank- 
 fulness. But it must be confessed, there are times when grave doubts as 
 to this improvement arise. Improper thoughts are not promoted so much 
 by indecent language as they are by insmuations, which inflame the 
 imagination, and cause it to do the most towards demoralizing the reader. 
 Hence '' Childe Harold," with its cold cynicism and its infidel sugges- 
 tions, is a more dangerous poem than "Don Juan," with all its gross- 
 ness. 
 
 3. Much of this indecency of language is used only as the vehicle 
 of wit or humor. It is said by writers on Mental Philosophy, that a witty 
 man is of necessity a man of genius, it not being possible that wit can 
 exist without genius. It is only those who are witty by nature that can 
 truly and properly estimate wit. The really witty man seizes the ludi- 
 crous, and is so absorbed by it that he lightly regards its surroundings. If 
 any one were passing through the street, and should see a diamond neck- 
 lace flashing in the kennel, he would without hesitation grasp the 
 valuable prize. The noisome substance into which the gems had fallen 
 would be disregarded, as the foul and offensive matter could be easily 
 washed off". So he who has a keen perception of the ludicrous, pays but 
 little heed to the vehicle in which it is conveyed. It makes comparative- 
 ly no impression upon his mind. In the works of Eabelais, Swift, Mon- 
 taigne and Sterne, are many passages that on some accounts are highly 
 censurable. The plain matter-of-fact man is horrified by the parts which 
 are objectionable J9er 56. He cannot appreciate the wit, and he therefore 
 condemns them in a mass. Not so with the man of true wit. He is but 
 slightly affected by the objectionable parts. Probably his moral sense is 
 not influenced by them in any appreciable degree. Of course, it receives 
 little, if any injury. Some of those who cannot appreciate true wit are 
 
15 
 
 happily desoribed by our Poet, when he makes one of his characters 
 
 say : — 
 
 " There are a sort of men, whose visages 
 Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond, 
 And do a wilful stillness entertain, 
 "With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 
 Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; 
 As who should say, I am Sir Oracle ; 
 And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! "*^ 
 
 Some object to Shakspeare that he was for many years an actor, 
 or engaged in the carrying on of Theatres ; and also that his works are 
 most of them plays written for public representation. Now, if an indi- 
 vidual has written books that commend themselves to our notice, it is of but 
 little consequence what his social position was. There may be, it is 
 true, some circumstances in his life which may add to the interest with 
 which we read his productions, but we do not value or reject a book, 
 simply because its writer was a prince or a peasant, or even because his 
 private life was reprehensible, or the reverse. We judge a book by 
 itself. If it possess merit, we esteem it ; if it be but a mere collection of 
 words, or bad in its tendency, we neglect it. 
 
 " But," say some, " Shakspeare wrote plays expressly for representa- 
 tion upon the stage, and he has in this way done much to uphold and per- 
 petuate a kind of entertainment which necessarily involves many evils.'* 
 I would ask such objectors whether the ancient Greek dramas were not 
 written for a purpose precisely similar ? Yet, a critical study of them forms 
 a portion of the regular course in all thorough education. But the circum- 
 stance that Shakspeare wrote plays expressly for representation upon the 
 stage has, in the lapse of time, become little else than a mere historical 
 fact. The majority of his admirers have become acquainted with him 
 not by witnessing the actual performance of his dramas, but by reading 
 them in private. And, if they are wise, they will extend this acquaint- 
 ance in the same way in which they formed it. Some of the finest effects 
 of Shakspeare's plays vanish when an attempt is made to represent these 
 plays upon the stage. Then again : although there may be found two or 
 three actors who can adequately sustain some of the dramatis personce, 
 
 '^ Merchant of Venice, Act T., Scene I. 
 
16 
 
 the other characters are sure to suffer more or less in the hands of the 
 remainder of the company. As the works of ** The Swan of Avon'* 
 give such delight to the reader, it may well be questioned whether his 
 witnessing the performance of them afterwards, will not greatly mar the 
 pleasure which he had before received. Says a modern critic,- in speak- 
 ing of the representation of "King Lear," in the Theatre, "the ac- 
 " tors might more easily propose to personate the Satan of Milton upon 
 " the stage, or one of Michael Angelo's terrible figures. The greatness of 
 " Lear is not in corporal dimension, biit, in intellectual: the explosions 
 "of his passion are as terrible as a volcano ; they are storms turning up 
 "and disclosing to the bottom that sea, his mind, with all its vast 
 " riches. It is his mind which is laid bare. This case of flesh and blood 
 " seems too insignificant to be thought on, even as he himself neglects 
 "it. On the stage we see nothing but corporal infirmities and weakness, 
 " the impotence of rage ; while we read it we see not Lear, but we are 
 " Lear, we are in his mind, we are sustained by a grandeur which baffles 
 " the malice of daughters and storms ; in the aberration of his reason we 
 " discover a mighty, irregular power of reasoning, immethodical from the 
 " ordinary purpose of life, but executing its powers, as * the wind 
 " bloweth where it listeth ' at will upon the corruption and abuses of 
 " mankind. What have looks or tones to do with the sublime identifica- 
 " tion of his age with that of the heavens themselves, when in his re- 
 " preaches to them for conniving at the injustice of his children, he re- 
 " minds them that they themselves are old ? What gesture shall we 
 " appropriate to this ? What has the voice or the eye to do with these 
 " things ? " 
 
 It may be mentioned in further confirmation of the opinion before 
 given, that more satisfaction may be had from carefully reading the works 
 of Shakspeare than from seeing them performed, that this very drama 
 of King Lear is essentially changed in the editions of Acting Plays. 
 The character of the " Fool " is omitted altogether, and the winding up 
 of the play is arranged to satisfy the vulgar demand that worldly success 
 shall always reward virtue. But no one who has ever studied King Lear 
 will be satisfied with these alterations of Shakspeare's greatest work. 
 
 * Charles Lamb. 
 
17 
 
 Many of the sayings of tlie ** Fool " are the results of his shrewd observa- 
 tion, and the apparent folly of his utterances is hut the vehicle of deep 
 wisdom. And we envy not the mind or heart of him who can desire a 
 different ending to this tragedy from that which Shahspeare wrote. 
 
 Convinced, as I firmly am, of the soundness of the views just 
 quoted, and believing that similar remarks might be made as to the in- 
 jury which most of Shahspeare's plays suffer in being publicly performed, 
 I have had less hesitation in accepting an invitation to address you on the 
 present occasion than if I were of a different opinion as to stage represent- 
 ations. Instead of advising you to resort to the Theatre, that you may 
 have the plays of this unrivalled writer adequately interpreted to you, I 
 counsel you to study them carefully for yourselves. It may be, as Cole- 
 ridge is reported to have said, that " to see Edmund Kean act is reading 
 Shakspeare by lightning," but it is no less certain, that the subordinate 
 characters in his Dramas will not be represented in as true and vivid 
 lights as those which will illuminate the mind of the thoughtful reader. 
 
 Permit me to attempt an illustration of this point. Suppose that a man 
 of intelligence and cultivated taste is invited to view a historical painting. 
 He has thoroughly informed himself of the incidents on which the picture 
 is founded, and has in his mind's eye portraits of the leading personages 
 and of the natural scenery of the locality. He learns, however, before he 
 comes into the exhibition room, that although the painting was begun by 
 one thoroughly competent to the task, who finished the central figure, and 
 also made some outlines of other persons in the group, inferior hands have 
 completed it. As a consequence, want of proportion and of harmony is 
 the result. In such a work of art every person and every detail of still- 
 life ought to tend to throw the principal figure into bold relief, while as a 
 whole the representation should be properly balanced. But in the picture 
 before him, some of the figures are brought obtrusively forward, others are 
 little else than caricatures, while the landscape is glowing with meretri- 
 cious tints. The spectator regrets that he has ever seen this painting, not 
 merely because he has wasted his time, but because he has injured his 
 own ideal image of the persons and scenes represented. And so with pub- 
 lic performances of the plays of Shakspeare. The enthusiastic lover of 
 the Poet has formed his ideal of the plays from the acquaintance he has 
 
18 
 
 gained with them in the closet. His visit to the Theatre has destroyed 
 this ideal, and perhaps forever associated some of the finest passages with 
 the slovenly recital and acting of incompetent artists. 
 
 That the works of Shakspeare are in a dramatic form is no objection 
 to them in itself considered. Were it so, we must sacrifice some of the 
 most valuable of the efi'usions of the G-reek muse which have come down 
 to us. And there are many parts of the Holy Bible, even, which have so 
 much of the dramatic element in them, as to need but a judicious ampli- 
 fication and arrangement to make them in form what they are in reality, 
 Sacred Dramas. The fifth chapter of the second Book of Kirgs, in which 
 the healing of Naaman by the Prophet Elisha is recorded, is a case in point. 
 In fact, the modern English Drama had its origin in the Mysteries, as 
 they were called, which were certain portions of the Bible turned into re^- 
 ligious plays, and performed upon movable stages and sometimes in churches 
 even by ecclesiastics. Whilst these Mysteries represented what is written 
 in the Bible, the autliors of them interpolated many things for which they 
 had no authority. To gratify the rude tastes of the people there was often 
 a person introduced into these plays, who if he were not a clown, still 
 said and did many things which, to our taste, is, in such a connection, 
 shocking. When none but the clergy could read and write, these 3Tys-^ 
 teries served to teach to some extent the facts of the Bible. And when 
 the Mysteries were succeeded by the Moralities, as they were called, some 
 of the doctrines of Christianity were taught in what must then have been 
 an impressive manner. 
 
 But, it is objected, that Shakspeare lacks originality. In support 
 of this objection it is said that he found the plots of his plays ready 
 made to his hands. There were no translations at the time of Shakspeare 
 of the tales on which the " Merchant of Venice " and " Othello " were 
 founded. And with reference to his other Dramas, he has taken the 
 rough, and oftentimes improbable, legends that had been transmitted to his 
 time, and so re-arranged and vivified the originals that they can hardl}^ be 
 recognized. Let it not be said that the writer of " Venus and Adonis " 
 lacks originalit3^ For this poem was founded upon no model, either an- 
 cient or modern ; nothing like it had been attempted before, and nothing 
 comparable to it was produced afterwards. But if Shakspeare lacked 
 
19 
 
 originality, where, we may ask, did lie find the prototypes of his female 
 characters ? It has been thought, and no doubt with justice, that women 
 only can adequately delineate their own sex. But consider how this great 
 Poet has in his own case disproved this idea. Consider also that no other 
 male writer has been successful in his female portraits. Look also at the 
 vast differences in character of the individuals of this sex that he has 
 portrayed — "Lady Macbeth" and "Cordelia," "Cleopatra" and 
 " Isabella." 
 
 I have occupied perhaps more than sufficient time in answering ob- 
 jections brought against the works of this great Genius,— apologizing, as 
 it were, for the spots upon the sun which illuminates the literary heavens. 
 I turn now to a more congenial task. 
 
 In the first place, then, Shakspeare was the creator almost of the 
 language in ivJdch he wrote. A learned man, in speaking of the transla- 
 tors of the Bible in the reign of James I., deems it to have been almost a 
 miracle that they could " crane up," (as he terms it,) the English tongue 
 to the standard of purity and strength that that translation displays. 
 There were some fifty learned men employed in that version, which ap- 
 peared in 1611. Shakspeare, who as Ben Jonson says, " had small Latin 
 and less Greek," published most of his works before the date named, and 
 yet his language compares very favorably with that of the Bible in com- 
 mon use. It is impossible in most cases to substitute other words for his 
 without weakening the sentiment or description. Let us select as an ex- 
 ample the following : — ^ 
 
 " To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
 To throw a perfume on the violet, 
 To smooth the ice, or add another hue 
 Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 
 To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, 
 Is wasteful and ridiculous excess."*^ 
 
 Dr. Johnson, although he appears to have been incompetent to under- 
 stand and appreciate many of Shakspeare's beauties, says, " among his 
 other merits he deserves to be studied as one of the original masters of our 
 language." 
 
 * King John, Act IV., Scene II. 
 
20 
 
 He not only created, as it were, tlie language in which he wrote, 
 hut he uses it with the utmost shillfulness. He describes the land- 
 scape so graphically that you see the flowers, and almost smell their per- 
 fume. You shudder at his storm-scenes, and hear the beating of the watery 
 torrents, and the crash of the thunder, and are almost blinded by the 
 lightning. Anon you are transported to the Nile, and float with Cleopatra 
 on its bosom. 
 
 " The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne 
 Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold ; 
 Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that 
 The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver; 
 Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made 
 The water, which thev beat, to follow faster, 
 As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, 
 It beggai-'d all description: she did lie 
 In her pavilion, (cloth of gold, of tissue,) 
 O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see 
 The fancy outwork nature: on each side her. 
 Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, 
 With diverse-color' d fans, whose wind did seem 
 To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool. 
 And what they undid, did. 
 Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, 
 So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, 
 And made their bends adornings : at the helm 
 A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle 
 Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, 
 That yarely frame the office. From the barge 
 A strange invisible perfume hits the sense 
 Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast 
 Her people out upon her; and Antony, 
 Enthroned i' the market-place did sit alone, 
 Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, 
 Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, 
 And made a gap in nature."* 
 
 Can this scene be transferred to canvas, and glow more vividly than 
 it does in Shakspeare's word-painting ? Could indeed the work of the 
 artist convey to us the music which timed this royal progress, the sweet 
 
 * Antony and Cleopatra, Act II., Scene II. 
 
21 
 
 odors wliich enveloped the barge and floated upon the waters, and the ex- 
 cited motions of the spectators on the banks of the Nile ? 
 
 We mention in the next place Shakspeare's rare power of ohserva' 
 tion. Hardly anything on which that keen, gray eye of his fell escaped 
 his notice. It seems to have been at once lodged in his mind for future 
 use. The extent, minuteness, and thoroughness of the knowledge dis- 
 played in his descriptions are hardly rivalled. There is but little doubt 
 Miat if one were to read to a patron of the turf Shakspeare's description 
 of the horse which Adonis bestrode, the listener would say that the 
 writer had followed dealings in those noble animals as his principal pur- 
 suit. Permit me to quote : 
 
 " Round-hoof d, short jointed, fetlocks shag and long, 
 Broad breast, fall eye, small head, and nostril wide, 
 High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong, 
 Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide: 
 Look, what a horse should have, he did not lack, 
 Save a proud rider on so proud a back."* (1) 
 
 The range of his observation of character was wide. It included 
 Queen Elizabeth, whom he has complimented in his " Midsummer Night's 
 Dream," and James I., who is alluded to in " Macbeth," down through 
 nobles, citizens, servants, rogues, clowns, and beggars. No doubt, as one 
 of the company of players, he had been frequently in the presence of both 
 the Sovereigns named in AVhitehall. He was, as has been mentioned 
 before, on familiar, and even friendly terms with the Earl of Southamp- 
 ton, and by him he was perhaps brought into the company of other noble- 
 men. The remaining classes of society he was of course conversant with. 
 Who can doubt that from all these different ranks he caught looks, and 
 actions, and words, which were afterwards so effectively used in the con- 
 struction of his plays. 
 
 We mention further his great versatility. Besides the Poem before 
 spoken of as being unrivalled in either ancient or modern literature, 
 Shakspeare wrote Tragedies, Comedies and Historical Plays. Perhaps no 
 
 * Venus and Adonis. 
 
 (1). Note. For a description of a worthless animal, the reader is referred to the 
 •'Taming of the Shrew," Act III., Scene II. 
 
9-7 
 
 writer has ever ranged througli so many and differing fields, and acquitted 
 himself so well. One of his Tragedies, of which I have spoken, " King 
 Lear," is unapproached in its mingled sublimity and pathos. Another — 
 ** Hamlet "-—stands alone, being referable to no class ; certainly not under- 
 stood by critics, perhaps hardly understood by himself A third, 
 " Othello," displays the workings of jealousy upon a fiery nature, involv- 
 ing the innocent victim of that jealousy, and the husband, misled by a 
 consummate villain, in indiscriminate ruin. 
 
 Another characteristic of Shakspeare is his faculty of identifying 
 himself with his characters. Every one is individualized and fits in well 
 to the scenes in which he is placed, and acts consistently with the circum- 
 stances that surround him. Shakspeare's Eoman plays are Eoman plays. 
 The incidents cannot be transferred to a Saxon people, nor the characters 
 be clothed in an English costume without destroying the whole effect. 
 IS'ot the less is this true of his Dramas in which the scene is laid in moi'e 
 recent times, and in other parts of Europe. xs"or is this characteristic of 
 small weight. A writer thoroughly trained in classical learniDg is in 
 danger of making Senators of the present day talk, as if they lived under 
 the reign of the Cassars. He will be likely to stilt the fictitious person- 
 ages that he introduces. In proportion as he is classical he ceases to be 
 romantic. 
 
 And perhaps as rare a quality as any in Shakspeare is his strong 
 common sense. It is generally supposed that this quality can hardly co-ex- 
 ist with genius. But the care and prudence which Shakspeare displayed 
 in the management of his property, sufficiently prove that he was far from 
 being a mere Poet; and the characteristic which I have named amply 
 appears in his writings. The advice of Polonius to his son is well 
 worthy of being treasured up, and acted upon by every young man, as 
 being full of the most valuable maxims. 
 
 You have doubtless anticipated me when I say, that in deep knowU 
 edge of human nature, no uninspired writer ever equalled Shakspeare. 
 This fact might be inferred from what I have already stated. We know 
 that every character which Shakspeare introduces will be consistent with 
 
23 
 
 himself. A king with him is a king, llis looks, his actions, and his 
 words, show his rank. Lear, even in his madness, to Gloster's question, 
 
 "Is't not the king? " 
 
 • Replies, 
 
 "Ay, every inch a king." 
 
 And from a command of the afilicted monarch, 
 
 " Get thee glass eyes ; 
 And, like a scurvy politician, seem 
 To see the things thou do'st not.'' 
 
 We have reason to believe that this class, who have such a disinterr 
 ested love of the public welfare, had the same characteristics three cen- 
 turies ago, that they now possess, and that though Lear was crazed by his 
 daughter's ingratitude, yet, there was ** method in his madness," and a 
 true discrimination of character. 
 
 Shakspeare's gentlemen are truly gentlemen. His ladies are ladies. 
 His fops are fops. We respect his heroes, and we despise his cowards, 
 though we cannot but pity somewhat a few of the latter class. But Hot- 
 spur stands out no more truly on his canvass than the Knight of Eastcheap. 
 Dame Quickly is as correct and finished a portrait as Juliet; and both 
 are inimitable. 
 
 77ie words of no -writer have been so incorporated into the English 
 language as those of Shakspeai^e. Proverbs, proverbial expressions, and 
 even not a few slang sayings, came originally from the mouth of some of 
 his characters. Many sentiments and descriptions, whose beauty strikes 
 every mind, are drawn from his writings. It would occupy too much time 
 to quote, or even to refer to them. Suffice it to say, that the reader of 
 Shakspeare is frequently surprised at meeting passages, which he had seen 
 or heard before, divorced probably from their original connection, and very 
 possibly mutilated, — but now having all the advantage under which they 
 appeared as they left the hands of their author. 
 
 Again : Shakspeare delineates the course of events and the experiences 
 of individuals with a truthfulness which is, at times, almost startling. 
 In the *' Merchant of Venice," the avarice and fiendish malice of *' Shy- 
 lock," are appropriately punished. As the plot evolves itself in *• Measure 
 
24 
 
 for Measure," our sympatliies become strongly enlisted in the different 
 characters in the drama. We pity ** Claudio," although his fear of 
 death tends to extinguish the noble qualities which at first he seemed to 
 possess. We almost reverence the saintly " Isabella." Our tenderest 
 feelings reach out to " Marianna," so basely injured by the unmanly 
 " Angelo." On him, whose attempts on Isabella's virtue so belie the rigid 
 principles on which he so ostentatiously professed to act, we earnestly de- 
 sire that the sword of justice may do its proper work. But in the conclu- 
 sion of the drama, the miscreant is saved from his merited fat^ by the in- 
 tercession of one whom he had so grossly injured, aided by the pleadings 
 of the other, to whom he proposed the sacrifice of her virtue, as the price 
 of her brother's life. We are disappointed at such an ending of the drama, 
 because we wish to see the guilty one punished before our eyes. But, 
 when we consult the records of the past, and call to mind what we have 
 ourselves observed, we must allow that it is no unheard of thing for a 
 miscreant to escape punishment ; nay, even to be placed in a better position 
 than he was in before. That a worthless husband should be saved from the 
 consequences of his deeds by his wife, who loves him in despite of his 
 baseness, is a circumstance that is not the mere creation of Shakspeare's 
 fancy, but, on the contrary, it is paralleled every month, if not every 
 week in the year. 
 
 The play of "Hamlet" begins in gloom, and ends in ten-fold dark- 
 ness. His royal father, who, for all that appears to the contrary, was no 
 worse than other kings of the time, meets with a violent death. " Cut 
 off," as his ghost says, 
 
 " Cut off, even in the blossoms of my sins, 
 Unhousel'd, disappointed, unaneled; 
 No reckoning made, but sent to my account 
 With all my imperiections on my head." * 
 
 Polonius, against whom the only charge that can be brought is, that, 
 while in his vigor, he was a respectable and honored person in the state, in 
 his dotage he becomes tiresome and meddlesome, is killed by Hamlet, who 
 mistakes him for the murderer of his father. This error deprives Ophelia 
 
 * Hamlet, Act I., Scene V. 
 
25 
 
 of her reason, and causes her self-destruction. Laertes, the brother of 
 the unfortunate damsel, by a poisoned sword effects the death of Hamlet, 
 and, in exchange of weapons, meets his own death in a similar manner. 
 Finding his end fast approaching, Hamlet inflicts upon his uncle the just 
 punishment of his atrocities, and soon after expires, after witnessing the 
 untimely death of his mother by poison. The effect of this play upon the 
 careful reader is almost as if he were breathing a . stijiivg atmosphere. 
 The stage appears to be a charnel house, through which a shadowy ghost 
 is flitting, and the remembrance of the hardened merriment of the clowns 
 in the grave-yard, seems like the dim, phosphorescent light, that some- 
 times arises from the decomposition of dead bodies, and that serves to make 
 the decay from which it springs only the more ghastly. But is this drama 
 unnatural ? Is it a mere gratuitous harrowing of our feelings ? Alas, 
 the experience of every one, while it must have repeatedly convinced him 
 that " truth is strange, stranger than fiction," must also have shown him 
 some catastrophes in real life which check the breathing and chill the 
 blood of those to whom they are made known. 
 
 In King Lear, though his unnatural daughters both meet with vio- 
 lent deaths, the gentle Cordelia is murdered in prison, and the heart of 
 the abused and agonized father breaks in consequence. 
 
 The fortunes of Eomeo and Juliet interest us deeply. We expect 
 that their marriage will heal the bitter feuds of their respective families, 
 and that the youthful lovers will be destined to a long life of happiness. 
 Not only do the Poet's words prove true, in their cases, that 
 
 " the course of true love never did run smooth," 
 
 but death enters and gathers them both into his garner. 
 
 In most writers, all these catastrophes would have been changed. We 
 should have been treated with specimens of earthly punishment and 
 earthly reward. Even Sir Walter Scott has in only one work of his dared 
 to disappoint the common expectation in its winding up. By making 
 Ivanhoe marry Rowena, instead of Eebecca, he incurs the censure of most 
 of his readers, but he approaches to the region in which Shakspeare dwells. 
 
 Now, why did our Poet, in many instances, run so counter to the 
 almost uniform method in works of fiction of disposing of his principal 
 
26 
 
 characters ? Because lie liad observed human nature and human experi- 
 ences so thoroughly. He knew that the acts of God are at times of such 
 a kind as to try the strongest faith. He knew that for many of the suf- 
 ferings of humanity, there can he no adequate temporal compensation — no 
 sufficient earthly balm. 
 
 Shakspeare is, when thoughtfully studied, the truest and sternest of 
 all uninspired moralists : for he shows that the most faithful devotion to 
 duty, the most honest endeavors in the path of virtue may lead through 
 regions of storms and darkness to a precipice, over which the traveler will 
 fall, and thus suddenly and painfully conclude his mortal journey. Love- 
 liness of character with him is sometimes thrown into stronger relief by 
 the dark clouds of misfortune and suffering which form the background 
 of the picture. Thus Lady Macduff says, 
 
 " I have done no harm. But I remember now, 
 I am in this earthly world, where to do harm, 
 Is often laudable ; to do good, sometime, 
 Accounted dangerous folly. Why, then, alas ! 
 Do I put up that womanly defence, 
 To say, I have done no harm?" * 
 
 The blessed Saviour said to his disciples on one occasion : "Or 
 " those eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, 
 '* think ye that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem ? 
 " I tell you, Nay : but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." 
 The truth conveyed in this authoritative declaration had doubtless found 
 ample (Confirmation in the experience and observation of Shakspeare, as it 
 cannot fail to have impressed the minds of all who have thought to any 
 extent upon the nature of our earthly existence. Complaints of the ap- 
 parent injustice which seems to show itself in the mournful experience of 
 many of the most estimable among men may be met and answered in the 
 language of one, who in the poem I quote from, certainly did not intend tp 
 plead the cause of Eevealed religion : — 
 
 " But sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed; 
 What, then? Is the reward of virtue bread?" j 
 
 * Macbeth, Act IV., Scene II. 
 
 t Pope's Essay on Man, Epistle IV., lines 149, 150. 
 
27 
 
 And is not the view that Shakspeare takes at times, though a melan- 
 choly, yet a true one ? Who shall dare even to guess at the future expe- 
 rience of a young person ? Connected as every one is more or less with 
 others, powerfully influenced by circumstances, liable to what we call 
 ** accidents," affected also by what we term ** luck," who shall predict 
 that a boy, or a girl, of fifteen, shall survive to the age forty, shall at 
 that time be in good health, and shall be beloved, respected, and perhaps 
 honored by friends and acquaintances ? Of those who at that age are in 
 a condition the exact opposite of this, who shall say that their circum- 
 stances might have been, and ought to have been, widely different ? Is it 
 not true in the words of Shakspeare himself — 
 
 " Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, 
 When our deep plots do pall ; and that should teach its 
 There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rough-hew them how we will." * 
 
 And as a consequence of what I have said, Shakspeare never palliates 
 vice, or ridicules virtue. That one may appreciate fully the merit of our 
 Poet in this respect, he should know something of the works of other 
 English dramatists. Before the time of Charles II., the sentiments of 
 English plays were comparatively pure. But during the reign of that 
 monarch and his immediate successor, the common decencies of life were 
 shamefully outraged by the playwrights. Even the mighty intellect of 
 Dryden bowed itself to this disgusting work. In Old Testament times, 
 Sampson was forced to make sport for the Philistines. His brawny limbs 
 and powerful sinews were upon compulsion made to imitate the antics of 
 the buffoon. Thus his body was debased. But this degradation was ter- 
 ribly avenged, when, clasping the pillars that supported the roof of the 
 building where he was, he brought down the entire fabric, and involved 
 himself and his enemies in a common destruction. Dryden, however, " filed 
 his miiid " and heart, not for fame, but for notoriety, perhaps for money. 
 And knowing this, we are tempted to apply to him the censure of the Duke 
 to the Clown in Measure for Measure. f Our pity, however, is mingled 
 
 * Hamlet, Act V., Scene II. 
 t Act III., Scene II. 
 
28 
 
 with our indignation, and while we censure, we cannot but weep over 
 genius thus prostituted. But the minor dramatists of the time spoken of 
 seemed to delight in setting all decency at defiance. The rough, though 
 learned, Jeremy Collier, however, sent confusion, into their ranks, and 
 forced them to 
 
 " Assume a virtue, if they had it not." 
 
 Some idea of the writings of the class spoken of is necessary, in order 
 rightly to estimate the praise that is due to Shakspeare in his discrimina- 
 tion between virtue and vice. 
 
 I have, in the discussion of the qualities of this matchless Poet, 
 looked almost exclusively upon the serious side of his writings. In my 
 studies in the preparation of this address, I have been almost painfully 
 impressed with the Titanic proportions of him whom we this day celebrate. 
 His is not merely the greatest name in English literature, but the distance 
 between him and all other writers is not only vast, but almost illimitable. 
 For myself, I have felt abashed, as it were, in his presence. But let no 
 one think that all his productions are of a sombre cast, or that they all 
 have all the qualities that I have enumerated, or teach the important les- 
 sons of which I have spoken. Should any one suppose that Shakspeare is 
 of a cynical spirit, we recommend him the reading of the " Comedy of Er- 
 rors," or the contemplation of Falstaff and his boon companions. We would 
 ask if the writer of " The Tempest," or the '' Midsummer Night's Dream," 
 could by any possibility be a snarling Thersites, or a Diogenes of the 
 seventeenth century ? No : the springs of sorrow and of mirth lie close 
 together. If we read the works of an author who excites in us a natural 
 and healthy grief, we may be sure in most cases that he has a keen sense 
 of the ludicrous. Dryden has said: — ■ 
 
 " Great wits are sure to madness near allied, 
 And thin partitions do the bounds divide." * 
 
 In these lines, the Poet makes the word wit to be synonymous with intel- 
 lect. In its more restricted sense, it is closely allied to the tenderest, and 
 oftentimes to the most melancholy feelings. 
 
 * Absalom and Achitophel, Dryden's Works, vol. ix., p. 222. 
 
29 
 
 Although, as I have said before, we estimate a writer by his works, 
 without reference to his social position, and with perhaps too little regard 
 to his character, yet our curiosity is measurably excited with respect to his 
 personal qualities. If these were such as to command our esteem, the 
 knowledge of the fact heightens the pleasure that we derive from his 
 works. We must acknowledge ourselves greatly disappointed in not hav- 
 ing more of the incidents of Shakspeare's life preserved to us. But the 
 title given to him of the ''gentle Shakspeare," suggests much. We are 
 told that he is seldom mentioned by those who knew him without the 
 epithets gentle or beloved accompanying his name. It is also said that 
 contemporaries have recorded the amiability of his character in terms that 
 cannot be misinterpreted. The Chandos portrait exhibits noble features, 
 illustrated by the utmost sweetness of expression. And says one, who 
 has in some particulars applied an almost exhaustive process in collecting 
 facts in the life of our Poet : " The character of Shakspeare is even better 
 ** substantiated than his history. We have direct and undeniable proofs 
 "that he was prudent and active in the business of life, judicious and 
 "honest, possessing great conversational talents, universally esteemed as 
 "gentle and able; yet more desirous of accumulating property, than in- 
 " creasing his reputation, and occasionally indulging in courses irregular 
 "and wild, but not incompatible with this generic summary."* 
 
 As to the effect of a celebration like the present, and of other modes 
 of drawing public attention to the unrivalled merits of the subject of our 
 notice, I would trust that a truer literary taste than that which has hitherto 
 prevailed may be created and fostered. We are a reading people. But 
 what is the staple of our reading ? How many have made themselves 
 acquainted with the classic writers of our language ? And how many 
 have read with the attention they ought the copies of Shakspeare's works 
 which they possess ? I fear that the true answers to these questions would 
 be mortifying to our vanity. I have already mentioned some of Shaks- 
 peare's claims to our notice, and need not now repeat them. I may only 
 say that one who is familiar with his writings ought to find himself greatly 
 
 * The Life of William Shakspeare by James 0. Halliwell, F. R. S., etc. p. 298. Lon- 
 don: 1348. 
 
30 
 
 refined and elevated. He ouglit to go out from the perusal of his plajs 
 to bear more truly and under standingly his part in the great drama of hu- 
 man life. 
 
 The intelligent lover of the great Poet finds language altogether too 
 poor to express his gratitude for such a gift as he was to mortals. He 
 looks back and sees, as it were, a feeble light arising in an obscure borough 
 in one of the inland counties of England. That light gradually increases 
 in size. It illuminates and refines the court revels of Elizabeth and 
 James. It shines in the theatres of London, even then throwing the 
 other lights partly into the shade. It helped to cheer the sad hours of 
 Charles I., whom we must pity even when we blame him. It waked into 
 enthusiasm John Milton, before he became soured by domestic troubles 
 and degraded by fanaticism and politics. The Protectorate of Cromwell 
 refused to permit its genial influence to afi"ect the nation. The murky 
 filthiness and cold-blooded revelry of the reigns of the so-called " Merry 
 Monarch" and of his brother it could not penetrate, any more than the 
 sun itself can enlighten the sulphurous and pitchy smoke which rolls in 
 volumes from the laboring volcano. After the Eevolution in England, 
 that light began again to be discerned. It has increased in brightness up 
 to the present day. While a few formerly felt its cheering influence, 
 thousands, nay, millions are now gladdened by its beams. The space which 
 it illuminates has extended many hundred fold. In every colony of that 
 wondrous nation ''which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe 
 with her possessions and military posts," on the continent of Europe, 
 among peoples speaking strange tongues, throughout the vast length and 
 breadth of America, what once appeared but a feeble light, is now the 
 central, and by far the most resplendent orb in the literary heavens. It 
 shines there far above the region in which the destinies of individuals, or 
 even of nations are being fulfilled. Whatever may be their fate, while 
 our language shall last, that luminary must remain unobscured and 
 immortal. 
 
 The oration was listened to with marked attention by the crowded 
 audience till its close. It was a very scholarly and comprehensive pro- 
 
31 
 
 duction, and its suggestions, most of them novel and striking, will, we 
 doubt not, be fully appreciated by its readers. 
 
 The singing of music, entitled ** Fair Science Bright," by the school 
 children, then followed. After which, the audience were entertained 
 with readings from Shakspeare's works, by our gifted townslady. Miss 
 Helen Eastman. Miss Eastman, who had appeared with great success 
 on several occasions before a Lowell audience as a Shakspearian reader, 
 very kindly acceded to the desire of the Committee that she would read 
 some prominent selections from his plays on this anniversary. And it 
 was by no means the least entertaining and delightful portion of the ex- 
 ercises. Superadded to this, was the additional gratification that we had 
 within our own limits so accomplished a lady, the daughter of one of our 
 oldest citizens, to delight and entertain her friends in so marked a man- 
 ner, and with so accurate and striking a rendition of the great master's 
 thoughts. Her selections were from 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, Act II., Scene II. 
 Merchant of Venice, Act III., Scene I. 
 King John, Act III., Scene IV. 
 
 Miss Eastman occupied half an hour in her readings, and was listened to 
 with the delight she always awakens whenever she appears in public. 
 
 In concluding the exercises, the audience joined the choir in singing 
 our national hymn, "America," and thus the literary exercises of the 
 day came to a close. 
 
 The Committee of Arrangements can congratulate themselves on the 
 success which crowned their efforts, making the ** Three Hundredth Anni- 
 versary of the Birth of Shakspeare *' an event long to be remembered in 
 Lowell. 
 
EXERCISES AT THE DINNER. 
 
 The festivities of the day were brought to a fitting close with a din- 
 ner in the evening. The number of tickets having been limited to the 
 capacity of the Hall, the Committee found their stock exhausted on the 
 day preceding the Festival, and after the extraordinary success attending 
 the afternoon entertainment, could have disposed of a large number, if it 
 had been possible to provide for them at so late an hour. 
 
 " Shakspeare's words suit every station ;" 
 " Every man should take his own." 
 
 To the many who were disappointed in obtaining dinner tickets, ap- 
 plies the language of the Bard : "Delay no time ;" " delays have dan- 
 gerous ends." *'If we use delay, cold, biting winter mars our hoped for 
 hay." 
 
 The two tables extending the entire length of the hall, were spread 
 with that excellent taste for which A. B. French & Co. are noted, and all 
 that appertained thereto, both in appearance and quality, seemed to give 
 hearty satisfaction to an appreciative assembly of over one hundred per- 
 sons. 
 
 At the head of the hall, between the tables, was a bust of Shaks- 
 peare draped with flags ; and in an arch, above the drapery, were dis- 
 played those most appropriate words of the great Poet: "Now, good 
 digestion wait on appetite, and health on both." 
 
 About eight o'clock, Hon. John A. Goodwin, President of the eve- 
 ning, called to order, and requested Eev. James Dean to invoke the Divine 
 blessing, after which the following bill of fare received due attention. 
 
33 
 
 il^xu mnntjxM^ Mumbumx^ 
 
 BIHTH OF ^tl^JiSIPE^^IiE. 
 
 Dinner at the Hall of A. B. French & Co., 
 
 LOWELL, APRIL 23, 1864. 
 
 SOUP. 
 
 Mock Turtle. - 
 
 BOILED. 
 
 Turkey — Oyster Sauce. Leg of Mutton — Caper Sauce. 
 
 KOAST. 
 
 Chicken. Sirloin of Beef. 
 
 Turkey — Cranberry Sauce. 
 
 SIDE DISHES. 
 
 Escaloped Oysters. Lobster Salad. 
 
 Macaroni. 
 
 RELISHES. 
 Young Radishes. Tomato Sauce, 
 
 Olives. Pickles. 
 
 VEGETABLES. 
 
 Mashed Potatoes. Boiled Potatoes. 
 
 Boiled Onions. Squash. 
 
 PASTRY. 
 
 Custard Pie. Squash Pie. Apple Pie. Meat Pie. 
 
 Washington Pie. 
 
 DESSERT. 
 
 Charlotte Russe. Calf's Foot Jelly. Oranges. Raisins. 
 
 Nuts. Ice Creams. 
 
 Coffee. Tea. 
 
34 
 
 Tiie cloth having been removed, the President briefly described the 
 preliminary arrangements of the celebration, and then introduced Wil- 
 liam r, Salmon, Esq., as the Toast-master of the occasion, announcing 
 that the regular sentiments were entirely composed of extracts from 
 Shakspeare. The exercises proceeded as follows : — 
 
 First Sentiment : — Shakspeare's Eloquence — 
 
 " Some there are, 
 
 Who on the tip of their persuasive tongue, 
 Carry all arguments and questions deep ; 
 And replication prompt, and reason strong. 
 To make the weeper smile, the laugher weep, 
 They have the dialect and different skill, 
 Catching all passions, in their craft of will. 
 That in the general bosom they do reign 
 Of young and old, and either sex enchain."* 
 
 Hon. Daniel S. Kichardson having been called upon as " A Daniel 
 come to judgment I " responded as follows : — 
 
 I am taken by surprise, Mr. President, in being called upon to an- 
 swer to the first sentiment given here this evening. I hoped that after 
 enjoying the feast which these tables afford, I should sit for a short time 
 at least, a quiet listener to those of my fellow-citizens around me, thereby 
 catching the spirit of the occasion, and having the advantage of thoughts 
 freshly awakened by the utterances of others. You have ordered it other- 
 wise, and I must not unwillingly or hesitatingly answer to your call. 
 
 It is certainly a matter of no ordinary or common interest, that in 
 this city of some forty thousand inhabitants, entirely built up within less 
 than half a century, this large company is assembled to do honor to the 
 memory of one who was born three hundred years ago in a land thousands 
 of miles away. 
 
 Although there are no peculiarities about Shakspeare which should 
 give him any particular claim to be remembered and honored in a manu- 
 facturing city, other than his distinguished literary ability and intellectual 
 productions, I venture to say, that he is now more generally known, and 
 his productions better appreciated, in our young and busy city, than they 
 were in his life time in the great metropolis in which he lived and so in- 
 dustriously worked out his fame. His writings were, of course, well known 
 to the play-goers of his time, but probably not generally to the people at 
 
 * Shakspeare's Poems. 
 
iJO 
 
 large. They were doubtless considered by the play -going public, and by 
 Shakspeare himself, as effective plays for the stage, but little thought 
 was bestowed upon their real merit or future fate as literary productions. 
 The author was evidently a modest man, having little thought or ambition 
 for future fame. His produxjtions won for him a competency, and he 
 looked upon them with gratitude for a comfortable support, and finally for 
 affluence, but without any expectation that in after years they would win 
 for him a world-wide and undying fame. While we are under so great 
 obligations to him for the literature which his ability and industry has 
 produced, small is the debt we owe him for carf in its preservation. How 
 strange it is, that the world is so little indebted to him for efforts to pre- 
 serve the precious jewels which he had so much power to produce. Grati- 
 fied as he must have been by the plaudits of the play-house, and enjoying 
 the fruit of his success in a peaceful life, what would it not have added 
 to his satisfaction and enjoyment, could he have looked forward to this 
 time, when his name is a household word, and his productions are the 
 familiar readings in every house in every land where culture finds any 
 entrance. 
 
 But I see around me a crowd of readers and lovers of Shakspeare, 
 and although called at the outset to speak, and having the whole field of 
 exhaustless topics before me, I cannot be unmindful that the pleasures of 
 an evening's entertainment like this, consist in brief suggestions from many 
 quarters, giving various views of Shakspeare and his works as they arise 
 in different minds, rather than in long addresses from a few speakers. It 
 gives me unusual pleasure that I can join my fellow-citizens here this 
 evening, in doing homage to the memory of Shakspeare, and in expressing 
 appreciation of, and gratitude for, the literary bequest which he has so lib- 
 erally and richly given to all mankind ; but I do not propose any longer 
 to take up your time, or to stand in the way of the many good things 
 which I know will be said here before we separate. Before I take my 
 seat as an attentive listener, however, I will give you this sentiment : 
 
 Shakspeake — In his literary productions he has erected his own monument, and the 
 golden letters which he has engraved upon it bear witness to the greatness of his genius, 
 and will carry through time an honored and undying name. 
 
36 
 
 The Otto Club then with fine effect sang one of Shakspeare's songs — 
 ** Crabbed Affe and Youths Then followed the 
 
 Second Sentiment : — The Orator — 
 
 Who, "praising wliat is lost, makes the remembrance dear."* 
 
 In the absence of Rev. Mr. Bartlet, J. Y. McEvoy, Esq., read the 
 following note from him : — 
 
 Mr. President : It is, I trust, a pardonable pride I feel in calling 
 myself a native of the beautiful valley of the Merrimack. Not so much 
 because six generations of my ancestors repose in its soil, as that this 
 valley has been so prolific of men who have made themselves widely and 
 favorably known. 
 
 Merrimack-built ships find no superiors in the world. The produc- 
 tions of its mechanics are exported to foreign lands. A few years since, 
 when visiting the extensive carriage factory at Concord, I saw vehicles 
 made to order for persons in the Southern and South-western States, some 
 that were to be sent to Cuba, and large wagons about to be shipped to 
 Australia, persons there actually preferring wagons made on this river to 
 those they could obtain in England. It was in this valley that Jacob 
 Perkins and Paul Moody were born: the former of wondrous mechanical 
 skill, as his many inventions proved ; the latter a valuable assistant to 
 those who laid the foundation of the greatness of your city. 
 
 An officer, who was engaged in exploring the sources of the Eiver 
 Amazon, says that, in the remotest hamlets near the head of that mighty 
 stream, he was surprised to see in common wear, domestic cottons bearing 
 the stamp of Lowell, Mass. And, I doubt not, your sister cities, both 
 above and below you, have with you exported articles of manufacture to 
 other parts of the globe, competing perhaps successfully with the products 
 of those countries in which manufacturing first had its origin. 
 
 The merchants have necessarily been confined mostly to the seaport 
 at the mouth of this beautiful river. In former days, and to some extent 
 now, their names were familiar in the exchanges and *' bourses " of many 
 a far-distant land, while their ships entered almost every port that was 
 opened to commerce. I feel no little satisfaction when I reflect that 
 
 * All's Well that Ends Well, Act 5, Scene 3. 
 
 ^ 
 
37 
 
 Francis C. Lowell and Patrick T. Jackson were natires of my own birth- 
 place, and that the latter received his mercantile education in the counting- 
 room of a relative of mine. I need but mention these gentlemen. Your 
 city is named for the former, and this flourishing and intelligent commu- 
 nity is his best memorial. Many of you are too familiar with the history 
 of those distinguished men to make it necessary that I should occupy your 
 time in calling up incidents in their lives. 
 
 In her jurists, this valley has a bright record. Jackson, Lowell and 
 Parsons ! who that knows anything of them, does not know that they were 
 mighty in intellect and profound in the profession which they adorned ? 
 There was one born near the head of the valley, who has himself said of 
 the humble dwelling in which his eyes first saw the light, "when the 
 smoke rose from its rude chimney, and curled over the frozen hills, there 
 was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation between it and the 
 settlements on the rivers of Canada." The claim of this valley to have 
 produced a distinguished statesman is fully borne out in the case of 
 Daniel Webster. 
 
 Intelligence has marked the territory of which I have spoken from 
 its earliest settlement. This is proved by the number of natives who have 
 left their mark upon the age. It was fairly to be expected that such a 
 people should be interested in genius, and resolve to honor it. I believe 
 that this community, as a community, is the only one in this country that 
 appropriately notices this day. Their antecedents prepared us to expect 
 that it would do so. And our expectation has been fulfilled. I give you 
 as a sentiment : — 
 
 The Valley of the Merrimack — Its fame is widely spread through the reputation 
 of its mechanics, manufacturers, merchants, jurists and statesmen. It has earned a new 
 title to notice by the appreciation it has this day shown of exalted genius. 
 
 Third Sentiment: — Our Country — 
 
 May we soon say in the language of Shakspeare— " Now are our brows bound with 
 victorious Avreaths ; our bruised arms hung up for monuments ; our stern alarums changed 
 to merry meetings ; our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war has 
 smoothed his wrinkled front."*.. . ." There is not now a rebel sword. "t 
 
 * Richard 3rd, Act 1, Scene 1. 
 
 t Second Ileury 4th, Act -4, Scene 4, 
 
38 
 
 A. E. Browx, Esq., having been introduced, responded as fol- 
 lows ; — 
 
 Mr. President: I would that some one more able had been 
 assigned to respond to so sublime a theme as " Our Country." She is 
 the common mother of us all, and to us and our fathers she has for 
 many generations been a most beneficent one. At her shrine and upon 
 her altars we have laid our choicest offerings, even our treasures and our 
 sons. Alas, how much of one and how many of the others, are entombed 
 in her bosom ! 
 
 Civilized, Christian men would on reflection believe that war was the 
 pastime of the savage only ; but the history of the world teaches us that 
 the most enlightened nations war upon each other, and that a Christian 
 people can as readily tear each other's throats as engage in any other pur- 
 suit. There is national as well as individual mania, and it not unfre- 
 quently seizes a whole people, and Truth, and Justice, and Eeason are 
 wholly dethroned. For more than three years has our once peaceful land 
 been deluged with the blood of our bravest sons, and yet there is no end 
 to the strife, no cessation of blood, no return to peace and reason. Yet 
 we have faith to believe that in the good providence of God, this nation 
 will not perish ; that there is a higher and more glorious future for this 
 people, when " grim-visaged war shall Smooth his wrinkled front," and 
 our ''stern alarums change to merry meetings." That day will surely 
 dawn upon this whole people, when we shall have plucked the briar and 
 the bramble from our own bosoms, and supplanted the scorpion with 
 Christian love and charity. When men shall love truth and eschew false- 
 hood — when love takes the place of hate, virtue supplants vice — when 
 peace is preferred to war, then shall our "brows be bound with victorious 
 wreaths," and our " bruised arms hung up for monuments." When thepeople 
 shall again demand and restore the traditionary institutions of the fathers, 
 the Union and the Constitution, and smite as with the sword of Gideon 
 every traitorous hand and every traitorous tongue arrayed against either, 
 then again may we be a united and happy people, prosperous at home, 
 respected abroad, the asylum of the world, a great and free people. 
 
39 
 
 Fourth Sentiment : — The Press — 
 
 *' Let me speak to the yet ullkno^Ting world, how these things came about."* " Is 
 thy news good or bad? Answer to that."t 
 
 Hon. C. L. Knapp, of the Daily News, responded on behalf of the 
 press, first acknowledging the compliment paid to the craft, and next re- 
 marking upon the power of the press as an auxiliary of social progress, 
 of individual advancement, and especially of literary fame. If Shak- 
 speare himself were now among us to testify, none would be more ready 
 than he to acknowledge his indebtedness to this power, for the world-wide 
 renown which attaches to his name. The quality of the products of the< 
 press, however, would generallj^ be found to be what the prevailing senti- 
 ment of the community demanded. If this were so, he might, with some 
 degree of fitness, respond to the query — " Is the news good or bad ?" — by 
 using the words of the immortal Bard : "As you like it : What you'd 
 have it, make it." 
 
 Fifth Sentiment: — Our Police Judge — 
 
 " Thou robed man of Justice, take thy place."t " The nature of our people, our city's 
 institutions, and the terms for common justice, you are as pregnant in, as art and practice 
 hath enriched any that we remember." || 
 
 The company having been ordered to consider themselves arraigned 
 before Associate Police Justice George Stevens, that gentleman spoke as 
 follows : — 
 
 Mr. President: For a reply to the sentiment which has been 
 read, I feel that I am the improper representative of the judicial tribunal 
 alluded to, and quite incapable of saying anything instructive concerning 
 the great poet whose birthday we celebrate ; and I much regret that the 
 chief to whom this sentiment properly applies is not present to greet you 
 with his own response. 
 
 It is said that in his youth he studied for a time in the office of an 
 attorney at law, probably in or near his native village of Stratford. And 
 there are many passages in his dramas which evince so accurate a knowl- 
 edge of legal terms, phrases, and proceedings, that we can readily be- 
 lieve the statement. From some source he had learned enough of the law 
 to manage naturally a^d witl^ ease whatever legal characters and proceed- 
 
 * Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2. 
 
 t Romeo ^lid Juiiet, Act 2, Scene 5. 
 
 X Kiftg I-esir, Act 4, Scene 5. 
 
 II 249^^811,?^ if^ Measure, Act 1, Scene 1, 
 
40 
 
 ings were necessary for the perfection of his plays. With a master's hand 
 he could make poor old King Lear, in his madness, summon a tribunal for 
 the trial of his ungrateful daughters, whose " sharp-toothed unkindness 
 preyed like a vulture" upon his heart, — who Jiad unhoused him, and sent 
 him forth to wander upon the barren heath while the pelting storm beat 
 upon his unsheltered head. He was well qualified to conduct the trial 
 which was to determine whether old Shylock should take his pound of 
 flesh from next the heart of Antonio, and to devise means for the release 
 ' of Claudio, the adulterer, from the vengeance of the treacherous and un- 
 relenting Angelo. Malone has given us twenty-four citations in proof of 
 Shakspeare's legal attainments, and Lord Campbell has increased the 
 number to one hundred and sixty, and says: " He is uniformly right in 
 his law and in his legal phraseology, which no mere quickness of intuition 
 can account for." 
 
 And, Mr. President, I think it not unsafe for us to conclude, that in 
 his general learning he was a man of scholarly attainments. It was, in- 
 deed, remarked by old Ben Jonson, that he had " small Latin and less 
 Greek"; and Hume says that he was " born in a rude age, and educated 
 in the lowest manner, without any instruction either from the world or 
 from books;" while Voltaire declared that his poetry was but the wild 
 ravings of a drunken savage. He certainly had a fair knowledge of the 
 Latin and some knowledge of Greek, and knew something of the modern 
 romantic languages. It is impossible to suppose him to be without any 
 classical attainments, living at a period when even the women of rank 
 conversed in Latin and wrote Greek. The gentry to which Shakspeare's 
 family belonged, as well as the nobility, must have acquired something of 
 this classical taste. When Queen Elizabeth visited her nobility, she was 
 saluted by the Penates in imitation of the ancients ; she was ushered to 
 her chamber by nymphs. Mercury was her messenger ; Cupid met her in 
 the street, in the midst of an admiring populace, and presented her with his 
 wicked arrows ; and as she looked forth from her castle window, Nereids 
 and Tritons, sporting upon the silver surface of the lake, greeted her gaze. 
 The dishes upon the table, and the food which burdened them, were cov- 
 ered over with figures of Grecian and Pioman characters, scenes, and places. 
 Such was the classical spirit breathing everywhere in England when 
 
41 
 
 Shakspeare was educated. Of the English tongue he was certainly the 
 master, if not the maker, as he was of the English drama. He was at 
 least thoroughly read in Grecian and Eoman history, and English history 
 he knew perfectly, even in detail. 
 
 Shakspeare possessed the power of characterization to a greater de- 
 gree than any man who has ever written. By this power, kings and glit- 
 tering queens sprung into life ; by it he created men wise as the stars, 
 and women beautiful as the morning ; philosophers, fools, clowns, clergy- 
 men, pimps, bawds, statesmen, maniacs, all true to life, lived and moved 
 by the word of his power. Every sentiment of the human heart — love, 
 hatred, pity, passion, jealousy, revenge, remorse, grief, anger, avarice, 
 and ambition — actuated the men and women of his imagination, as they 
 move the living masses. King Lear, Eichard III., Macbeth, Othello, 
 the lovely Cordelia, the ungrateful Goneril and Eegan, Isabella, pure 
 as the lily of the valley, Cleopatra passionate and voluptuous, — all 
 were created with equal ease. He overstepped the boundaries of the 
 real, and brought forth by the omnipotence of his genius the weird sisters 
 in Macbeth, the fairies in Mid-Summer Night's Dream, the gross Caliban 
 and the airy Ariel in The Tempest. He strode the earth with a giant's 
 tread ; he soared among the stars, and dived into the depths below, and 
 from the whole realms of nature summoned creations, alike natural and 
 supernatural, to share the glory of his dramas. 
 
 The investigations of modern critics convince us that, contrary to 
 the commonly received opinion, he was appreciated and esteemed by his 
 cotemporaries. His companions termed him the ** sweet," the ''gentle" 
 Shakspeare, proving, that they admired and loved him. He was favored 
 with the intimate friendship of some of the nobility ; he received the 
 favorable notice of Queen Elizabeth, and was favored with an autograph 
 letter of commendation from King James, himself a scholar. This should 
 convince us that he was not the obscure and low buffoon he is sometimes 
 represented to have been. 
 
 Immediately after his decease, the Puritan spirit gained the ascend- 
 ancy, and the drama and theatre were swept away as the unholy contam- 
 inators of society. This spirit, in its religious severity, ruthlessly buried 
 the drama and crushed the unhallowed reputation of the dramatist. 
 
42 
 
 Shakspeare went down before it with others, and did not again begin to 
 be appreciated until sometime early in the last century, since which time 
 the glory of his fame and achievements has increased in brightness, and 
 will do so for a thousand years to come. 
 
 Mr. President, I congratulate the Committee on the entertainment 
 of the day, which, in spite of unfavorable prophecies, have been so in- 
 structive and successful ; and when the next ter-centenial celebration of 
 Shakspeare shall occur in Lowell, may we all be there ! 
 
 The Otto Club then sang in excellent style Shakspeare's unsurpassed 
 song — *' Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings." 
 
 Sixth Sentiment :— The Bar — 
 
 " Faith, I have been a truant in the law; and never yet could frame my will to it, 
 and therefore frame the law unto my will."* 
 
 T. H. Sweetser, Esq., having received a Websterian introduction, 
 proceeded humorously to maintain by quotations from Shakspeare, that 
 the bard knew little of the law and thought less of the lawyers. He 
 made an able and elaborate argument upon his side of the question, bring- 
 ing down the house with his witty turns, and claimed " a verdict against 
 Mr. Shakspeare " as a foe to the speaker's profession. 
 
 Seventh Sentiment :— The Ballad — 
 
 "I love a ballad, but even too well; if it be doleful matter merrily set down; or a 
 very pleasant thing indeed, and sung lamentably."! 
 
 ' Mr. Perez Puller replied with a humorous original song, that was 
 received with continual applause. 
 
 Eighth Sentiment: — The Soldier — 
 
 " The soldier, full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, jealous in honor, sud- 
 den and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation, even in the cannon's mouth."J 
 " Go to the wars, would you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and 
 have not money enough at the end to buy a wooden one."|| 
 
 Major C. A. Stott, of the Massachusetts Sixth Eegiment, having 
 been called upon as one whose experience ranged from back-water to 
 Blackwater, spoke eloquently in behalf of our citizen soldiers, who were 
 seeking not ''the bubble reputation in the cannon's mouth," but were 
 there offering themselves a sublime sacrifice for their country and the in- 
 stitutions of Shakspeare's race. 
 
 * First Part King Henry 6th, Act'^, Scene 4. 
 
 t Winter's Tale, Act 4, Scene 3. 
 
 t As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7. 
 
 II Pericles, Prince of Tyre, Act 4, Scene 6. 
 
Ninth Sentiment: — Our Physicians — 
 
 " Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it."* 
 
 Ex- Mayor Huntington, the senior physician in Lowell present, re- 
 sponded as follows : — 
 
 Mr. President : It might, at first thought, seem strange that I, of 
 all men, should be called upon to respond to such a sentiment, favorably 
 at least. It might rather be expected that I should assume the 
 defensive, and for myself, and in behalf of my brethren, of whom 
 I am happy to see so many here to-night, pitch into the old bard, and be- 
 labored him with hard knocks somewhat after the manner of my friend, 
 Mr. Sweetser. " Throw physic to the dogs !" Why, Mr. President, I 
 get my living by it. By it I earn my bread,— I was going to say my 
 bread and butter, but this last luxury I don't aspire to, these hard times. 
 I say such would naturally be the thought uppermost in the mind ; but, 
 upon maturer reflection, I am persuaded that the sentiment was not intended 
 to cast any reproach upon my profession. On the contrary, it will be 
 found to embody a beautiful moral, and to convey a most valuable lesson. 
 
 It is never just to an author to take isolated expressions out of their 
 connection, and we cannot do it without great hazard of making him utter 
 opinions he never designed. This applies to all kind of writing, and to 
 none with more force or pertinency than to that best of all books. What 
 mischief has not been done by selecting detached passages of Scripture,* 
 with a view of establishing a favorite dogma of the sectary ? 
 
 In the case before us, let us inquire what were the circumstances un- 
 der which the sentiment that has been offered were expressed. The words 
 are put into the mouth of Macbeth. He had just before murdered the 
 King, while he was his own guest, having been instigated thereto by his 
 fiend-like wife. It is n't the first time that the wife has incited the hus- 
 band to crime, — a notable instance of which we have in the very earliest 
 history of our race. Yet, I am happy to acknowledge, and to the honor 
 of the other sex be it spoken, that, in general, upon all moral questions, 
 it is safer to trust to the instincts of the wife than the husband. Macbeth 
 had not only murdered the King, but he had procured the murder of 
 Banquo, who stood in the way of his ambitious aspirations. But crime 
 
 * Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 3. 
 
44 
 
 "brings its own punishment — the guilty Macbeth was conscience-stricken, 
 and strove in all ways to silence the upbraidings of the inward monitor. 
 He invited his friends to a splendid banquet, hoping, amid the revelries 
 of the hour, with toast and song, to drown the accusing voice, still ringing 
 in his ears. Happening for a moment to leave his seat, at the head of his 
 table, upon his return, there sat the ghost of the murdered Banquo. Hor- 
 ror and dismay overwhelmed him, and his very words betrayed his guilt: 
 " Thou can'st not say I did it ; never shake thy gory locks at me." His 
 hardened wife besought the guests to take no notice of the occurrence, as- 
 suring them that it was owing to a constitutional infirmity, and that the fit 
 would soon pass off; and so it did for the moment, but only to return 
 upon the rc-appearance of the ghost. It broke up the party, however, and 
 Lady Macbeth pretty soundly berated her liege lord for his cowardice and 
 pusillanimity. At length, this bold, bad woman herself was sorely troubled 
 with compunctious visitings. She walked in her sleep, and had terrific 
 visions — ^bloody hands that water would not wash clean, and the ** damned 
 spot'* that would not *'out" at her bidding. Macbeth sent for the 
 doctor to cure her. He came, and, sensible man as he was, saw at a glance 
 the nature of her case, and that the disease was purely mental, and, of 
 course, beyond any relief from drugs, and then occurred a colloquy be- 
 tween the parties :— 
 
 Macbeth. How does your patient, Doctor? 
 
 Doctor. Not so sick, my Lord, 
 As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, 
 That keep her from her rest. ' 
 
 Macbeth. Cure her of that ; 
 Can'st thou not minister to a mind diseased, 
 Pluck from the memory a rooted sorroAV, 
 Raze out the written troubles of the brain, 
 And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, 
 Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, 
 Which weighs upon the heart ? 
 
 Doctor. Therein the patient ' 
 Must minister unto himself. 
 
 Macbeth, disappointed and provoked, as people sometimes are, that 
 the doctor cannot perform impossibilities, gives vent to his feelings in the 
 utterance quoted : " Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it." The 
 moral to be deduced is this — that there is no relief to be found in medi- 
 cine, for the wounds of a guilty conscience, and that if we would live 
 
45 
 
 comfortably and die happily, it becomes us to keep a conscience void of 
 offence. 
 
 Mr. President, as an offset to the sentiment enunciated by the toast- 
 master, permit me to offer another from the great bard :- — 
 
 " No : I will not cast away my physic, but on those that are sick."* 
 
 Tenth Sentiment : — Our Present and our Past Mayors — 
 
 " Do you two know how you are censured, here in the city ?"t " To atone your 
 fears with my more noble meaning: not a man shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream 
 of regular justice in your city's bounds, but shall be remedied to your public lav/s, at heav- 
 iest answer."! 
 
 Hon, HocuM HosFORD, Mayor of Lowell, being called upon, replied 
 as follows to the first division of the sentiment :— 
 
 Indeed we do ! 
 
 "He and myself have traveled in the great shower of your gifts, and sweetly felt it."|| 
 
 " Faith, there have been many great men that have flattered the people, who 
 
 ne'er loved them; and there be many they have loved, they know not wherefore; so that if 
 the love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground." § 
 
 Hon. B. C. Sargeant, Mr. Hoseord's immediate predecessor, made 
 the following remarks upon the second division :— - 
 
 Mr. President : I was congratulating myself upon the happy ar- 
 rangement of our Toast-master in coupling the living with the dead, and 
 presuming that his honor the Mayor, representing the living, had done full 
 justice to the subject proposed, and that one response to each sentiment 
 was all that ought to be expected, when I am reminded by your call that 
 you propose to economize the ammunition of our Toast-master — a move- 
 ment, by the way, not at all necessary, as he appears to have an abundant 
 supply — by killing two birds with one stone. 
 
 Perhaps it is proper that I should condole with my friend and suc- 
 cessor, who is now in a position to be " talked about;" but I fancy he 
 has held office long enough not to be overmuch troubled about these mat- 
 ters. A free discussion of the official acts of men in positions of trust, is 
 one of the inalienable rights of the peoplcj and no objection to its exercise 
 
 * As You Like It, Act 3, Scene 2. 
 t Coriolanus, Act 2, Scene 1. 
 
 I Timon of Athens, Act 5, Scene 5. 
 
 II Timon of Athens, Act 5, Scene 1. 
 § Coriolanus, Act 2, Scene 2. 
 
46 
 
 shall ever be made by me ; but I would suggest that this right may be 
 enjoyed without the display of that spirit of party malignity which is too 
 often exhibited in our day. He who enters upon the discharge of public 
 duties, affecting for weal or woe the community in which he lives, should 
 first of all seek to gain the approval of his own conscience ; and if he 
 fails in this, it matters not whether the popular voice, for the time being, 
 shall oppose or condemn, his reward shall fail. 
 
 Permit me to express my thanks to the gentlemen of the Committee 
 who conceived the idea of this celebration, and my congratulations for the 
 very successful manner in which all the arrangements have been carried 
 out. They claim ta have been self-elected, but they find here to-night a 
 numerous constituency ; and, as an evidence of our appreciation of their 
 services in behalf of good literature, I move you, Mr. President, that this 
 Committee be " not for a day, but for all time ;" that they be continued 
 in office, and authorized to make arrangements for the celebrating in Low- 
 ell of the next three hundredth anniversary of the birthday of Shakspeare ! 
 
 Eleventh Sentiment : — The Ladies — 
 
 " From women's eyes this doctrine I derive : Tiiey sparkle still the right Promethean 
 fire; they are the books, the arts, the academies, that show, contain and nourish all the 
 world; else none at all in aught proves excellent."* 
 
 W. S. Gardner, Esq., responded, treating the subject with his usual 
 feeling, seeming fully imbued with Shaksperian taste upon his interesting 
 topic. 
 
 The Otto Club then appropriately treated the company to another of 
 Shakspeare's songs — *' Sigh no more. Ladies." 
 
 Twelfth Sentiment: — Our Bachelor Friends — 
 
 " Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to 
 trust none; and the fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor."t "For 
 aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never 
 did run smooth. "f 
 
 H. G. E. Corliss, Esq., was called upon to represent the single- 
 minded section of the community of which he has long been a worthy 
 member. He acquitted himself with much success, fortifying himself and 
 
 * Love's Labor Lost, Act 4, Scene 3. 
 
 t Much Ado About Nothing, Act 1, Scene 1. 
 
 J Mid-Summer Night's Dream, Act 1, Scene 1. 
 
47 
 
 friends with plentiful quotations from tlie great Poet, proving again that 
 ** Shakspeare's words suit every station." 
 
 Thirteenth Sentiment : — The Wealth of Our City — 
 
 " There is a tide in the affairs of men, Avhich taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; 
 omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries"* **tiU raising of 
 more aid, they come again to"t " the most wholesome physic of thy life-giving air."X 
 
 Dr. J. C. Ayer having been called upon, remarked as follows : — 
 Mr. President : Wealth is the accumulation of labor done. The 
 source of our city's wealth, which your Committee have too kindly called 
 on me to represent, is its industry. Assiduous industry is our forte, and 
 specialty, I might almost say, our devotion and delight, if, indeed, it be 
 not of the whole American people. Look back upon the world's his- 
 tory, and you will find that all the leading nations of the earth have had 
 some peculiar temper of mind, some prevailing devotion or pursuit, of 
 which they have left more or less enduring monuments to coming time. 
 Take the earliest of these that have reached us, and see the Egyptians on 
 the Nile, devoting as it seems the whole national energy, ingenuity and 
 hope to the preservation of their bodies, and to the erection above them of 
 monuments which should defy the centuries, as they have done. Next, 
 in Judea, you find a whole people given over to the adoration of the Su- 
 preme Being ; apparently wholly bent on the development of religious 
 ideas. And now, after thousands of years, the populations of the earth 
 worship Almighty Grod, mainly through the forms and sentiments of their 
 elimination. Next, again, in Greece, see the aspirations of its people de- 
 voted to the perfection of architecture. Those buildings which now fill 
 you with admiration for their symmetry and beauty, are but the re-pro- 
 ductions of their minds. Next, see the Eomans, or Latins, bewitched 
 with the love of art. Their productions freeze and melt the heart of gen- 
 erations of men, who travel in perpetual pilgrimage to their shrines, and 
 yield to emotions which it would almost seem that inspiration alone could 
 produce. 
 
 * Julius Caesar, Act 4, Scene 3. 
 
 t Comedy of Errors, Act 5, Scene 1. 
 
 J Love's Labor Lost, Act 1, Scene 1. 
 
48 
 
 Then on the islands of our ancestry, see the greatest men of a great 
 people turned with intense application to the pursuit or elimination of law . 
 and poetry and the sciences. Among these, shoots up the towering genius 
 whose ter-centenary birthday we meet to celebrate to-night. He has left 
 a monument not of himself alone, but of his people, which will last with 
 others of his race, at least while books remain. 
 
 Cross the wide ocean with me, and let us consider what is to be the 
 peculiarity of the great people which is struggling through its youth on 
 this western continent. I think I perceive two of them. One, a hope of 
 self-government and personal liberty ; the other, a devotion, as of the 
 whole heart of the .whole nation, to the production of material wealth. 
 By wealth, I mean tools, appliances, and facilities of action, rather than 
 hoarded means. 
 
 Why, gentlemen, many of you will live to see the pathway from 
 Asia to Europe made across this continent, through these United States, 
 and done by American industry. The Pacific Kailroad is even now build- 
 ing to leap the Kocky Mountains and span the vast deserts of the West, 
 over which China must travel to England, and England send her manufac- 
 tures for the teas she buys. American industry will make the way shorter 
 across one continent and two oceans, than any the effete nations of the 
 Eastern hemisphere have been able to find or build for themselves. But 
 let us pass what we expect to do, and look to what we have done. The 
 American States have built more canal, railroad and telegraph in one 
 hundred years, than all Europe have in a thousand. Our industry has 
 subdued a vast wilderness, and made it a productive farm, stocked it with 
 cattle, tools, steamboats for its rivers, and vessels for the seas that sur- 
 round it. We have opened its mines, and tapped its oil vats in the hills. 
 We have planted its fields, and, above all, we have made and are making 
 it the " home of the free." We have done the work of ten generations 
 in five. Persistent labor has become habitual to us ; in fact, a national 
 peculiarity, in the midst of which Lowell stands not unconspicuous. No 
 community of equal numbers can justly claim to do more work, or show 
 more of the results of productive industry, than we do. Within half a 
 century this was all a swamp. Now it is crowded with imperishable struc- 
 tures of brick and stone, firm-fastened in the ground. And these are 
 
49 
 
 crammed with cunning mechanisms, wliicb multiply an hundred fold our 
 abilities for doing. Our fifty thousand people with their machinery spin 
 more yarn, make more cloih, and accomplish more, than could a million 
 with their naked hands, or without tools. 
 
 This, my friends, is " the wealth of our city." Our industry, with 
 the appliances it has made for its aid, compels the tribute of the world. 
 It furnishes to the Asiatic, the African, or the South American, fabrics 
 cheaper than he can make them, and compels him to lay down his tea, his 
 ivory, or his silver and gold, at your i'eot. But I am getting on too mate- 
 rial a subject for this poetical entertainment, and will give you : — 
 
 SuAKSPKAKK — The repi'Oiiontativc man of tlio Ang-Io-Saxbn race. 
 
 The l)anl suhlimo. 
 On whose l>rows climb 
 
 Th.e crowns o" the world, 
 V.'itii tears and laughter for all time. 
 
 The Otto Club followed with—" Wake, 3:oIian Lyre." 
 Fourteenth Sentiment: — Old England, the Home of Shakspeaue — 
 
 " This, Knglmd never did: lie at tlie proud foot of a conqueror, but when it lirst did 
 help to wouRd itself.'"* 
 
 Eev. James Dean replied eloquenth', in substance as follows : — 
 Mr. President : Because I first saw the sun in Old England, the 
 home of the immortal bard, I have been called upon to respond to the 
 sentiment just announced. Transplanted when very young to the soil of 
 New England, it is here that my habits have been formed, and my charac- 
 ter and tastes moulded. Second only in importance to this, is the fact 
 that I was born in that country which has ever taken the lead in science, 
 in art and in literature, and which was the home of him whose birth we 
 to-night celebrate. 
 
 Englishmen have strong prejudices, a powerful and controlling na- 
 tional pride, a pride indeed verging toward egotism. This is created and 
 nourished in them by the histor\^ of their country, — a history which forms 
 an important part in the world's progress in all that belongs to a true civ- 
 ilization. Whatever may be the opinions of men as to the wisdom of 
 this, all must at once acknowledge the justice of England's exaltation as 
 
 * King John, Act 5, Scene 7. 
 
50 
 
 to the men who have in all periods of her progress left tlieir impressions 
 upon her own people, and the people of the world. A love of true free- 
 dom, the rights of eonseienee, and a rich and varied literature, sprang 
 into being in the age of Shakspeare, which may justly he called the 
 classic age of England. The writings of Shakspeare, combining as they 
 do in sublime union tlie beauties of nature with the treasures of classic 
 learning, stand to-day as a monument of his greatness. 
 
 As sons of New England, possessing a common language and a com- 
 mon love of liberty, we cherish as our own this rich legacy bequeathed to 
 our mother tongue by England's immortal bard. Happy shall we be if, 
 profiting by the sage counsel and high and noble sentiments which char- 
 acteiize his writings, there is produced in us a full groAvth of a true and 
 manly love for all that constitutes genuine greatness. May the history of 
 oar own times display to the world a New England true to herself and true 
 to the laud from which she sprang. So shall it be said of her, as of her 
 fatherland, that New J-^ngland never did, nor never shali. lie at the foot of 
 a conqueror, until she shall have first wounded herself. 
 
 El t- TEEN Til SeNTI MEM' : lllELANI) 
 
 ' •' What, tire tlu'.-^e pcL-ts de.^pateiicd \\>v Iivlaud ?"* " Ve^, by St. Patrick, but (here 
 
 is."t 
 
 A humorous respouae followed by J. E. McEvov, Ehq. 
 
 The list of regular toasts w^as at this point exhausted ; and the 
 President proceeded in a felicitous manner to announce that he was 
 about to call upon various gentlemen, who had not been assigned special 
 parts, to contribute something in the way of speech, sung, or sentiment, 
 to the entertainment of the company. Eirst, however, he called upon the 
 Otto Club for some music ; and here it may with propriety be said that this 
 organization, embracing as it does several of the best and most thoroughly- 
 trained voices in the city, contributed largely toward the success of the 
 occasion — a fact undoubtedly apparent to all who were present ; it is 
 reasonable to believe that there were none at the tables who had not 
 " music in their souls" — those deficient in that specialty would hardly 
 be found doing honor to the memory and genius of Shakspeare. 
 
 * KiiiK J.'ifbiinl2iKl. Art - 
 t Ilaiulet, Act J, Sctnic o. 
 
51 
 
 Of the individuals called up bj the President the following res- 
 ponded, none, however, miking remarks of great length, as the evening 
 was fast waning : — Dr. Gilman Kimball, Robins Dinsmore, T. P. L. 
 Lamson, (). E. CusTtiN'G, W. F. Salmon. Ithamar Beard, Z. E. Stone, 
 B. W. Baker, S. D. Sargeant, PiObert Prince, A. H. Chase, and Ciias. 
 Morrill, of Lowell ; Ma.i. D. G. Lang, Twos. J. Marsh and Dr. Jona. 
 Brown, of Tewkshurj. There is no record of any of the remarks or senti- 
 ments of the gentlemen here named, bnt it is fair to assert that they 
 formed an agreeable conclusion to the exercises at the tables. 
 
 Thus closed the first celebration in Lowell in honor of William 
 Shakspeare, whose memory and literary labors, greatly and universally 
 as they arc admired hj the people of to-day, will be no less appreciated 
 when another three hundred years have been added to those which have 
 elapsed since '-the poet of all ages" first opened his eyes on a world 
 which with his 2;reat mind he was to make wiser and better. 
 
-I 
 
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