It is a pregnant thought for struggling men, particularly struggling men of letters. We may take courage in remembering that there are few, indeed, who have endured greater extremities than Shakespeare.

One who visited the cathedral in search of employment could not overlook the Si Quis door-then, as the "best medium for advertising," daily covered with placards, in which aspirants for employment mingled their tenders with the puffs of fashionable quacks and perfumers, and it might be here that Shakespeare first saw a London playbill. What if it apprised him that a performance was to take place that very afternoon at the playhouse in Blackfriars-the piece to be represented by the servants of the EARL OF LEICESTER! That name, hitherto not suspected of any relation with him, we shall now meet, indeed, in every page of his life. He was not likely to suppose that any of the players would remember him since he was five years old, when they were entertained at Stratford by his father, the worshipful High Bailiff; but he might think to tell them that he was known to their great patron, the Earl. Whatever the attraction, and whether with or without credentials-there he stood at the playhouse door.

The theatre had been erected four or five years before by James Burbage, the father of Richard, the tragedian ; and was a plain, rough building, standing on the spot now occupied by the publishing office of 'The Times.' Before it was an open space, which still bears the name of Playhouseyard, and which was intended to afford turning-room for the visitors' carriages. But this purpose it very inadequately fulfilled, particularly as the male portion of the audience came on horseback, and carriages were thrown out by the irruption. The conflict of interests led to conflicts between coachmen and grooms, sometimes ending in loss of life, and blocks in the neighbouring streets, which the city authorities

press on the Privy Council in a petition, as their principal complaint against the Blackfriars theatre, calling for prompt redress. On the other hand, it was made a grievance by the company's patrons, who could rarely find their horses on coming out of the theatre, and sometimes discovered that the boy in charge had got tired of waiting and decamped; of course in company with the horse.

Shakespeare had not been long in the yard before he was sensible of this vocation, and fortunately was seen by a dashing courtier, who threw him his bridle as he drew up. Perhaps the stranger was not more amused by the performance within than the observant horse-boy by the proceedings without, which indeed were, to speak in homely phrase, as good as a play. Comedy alternated with tragedy, or at least melodrama, on this not mimic stage; for when swordand-buckler men brought up my lady's coach by a charge, they were so stoutly opposed by varlets in tawny and by varlets out of tawny, and out at elbows too, that the collision led to more than one broken head, and counted fallen, though not slain. But this was a rare incident, as the majority evinced no love for blows, but warred chiefly with sarcasms, which flew about in all directions, like the fragments of an Armstrong shell, and everywhere let in daylight for that watching eye.

Seeing everything, and hearing and marking, Shakespeare still kept in view his present business. In the cottage occupied by Peter the Great at Zaardam, while he worked as a journeyman shipwright, a queen has written up her belief that TO A GREAT MAN NOTHING IS LITTLE; and this is the precept we are taught by Shakespeare. He looked upon nothing as beneath him, as nothing was above; and threw his whole mind into whatever he took in hand, holding a horse, as he killed a calf, in high style. There he was at his post, bridle in hand, when the gorged house

poured forth its audience; and the courtier no sooner appeared than he was presented with his horse. Such attention both surprised and pleased him, and attracted the notice of others, whose horses had disappeared in the jam, leaving them to walk home. All asked the name of the new equerry, and declared that no one should thenceforth hold their horses but Will Shakespeare.

Thus he stepped into a calling at once, and a few days raised the calling into a small position; for his reputation spread, and brought him such a troop of horses that he was obliged to engage assistants. There were plenty at hand, and collecting the best, he organized a horse-boy brigade! The varlets out of tawny and elbows now found their occupation gone. There was no more decamping, and no more horsestealing; but the horsemen rode up, calling for Shakespeare, and being met by a cry of "I am Shakespeare's boy, sir! I am for Shakespeare," unhesitatingly resigned their steeds, knowing that, at the close of the performance, they would find them at the door. The boys held the horses, and Shakespeare took the charge. He did it in high style!

The order he had established outside the theatre was soon observed from within, and naturally recommended him to the players, who could not know him without discovering his merit. Whether on this account, or from learning who he was, and that he had been present when the company performed under his father's auspices at Stratford; or whether from being aware that the family were countenanced by the Earl of Leicester, Burbage felt an interest in his young countryman, and, according to Dowdall, took him into the theatre, "as a servitor." A manager's nod changed the horse-boy into a scene-shifter! and opened the stage to Shakespeare.

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XVIII.

SHAKESPEARE, THE STROLLER.

THE boards of a theatre animate the inertest organization, and not only animate, but leaven. It would seem that the habit of appearing in different characters on the stage infects the character of the actor, just as familiarity with dramatic dialogue tinges his discourse, and he carries into real life the same disposition to play many parts. Such is the phase in which we are now to view Shakespeare. Hardly has he disappeared behind the scenes, when he comes forward in a new character, and tradition and his own words present him to us as a strolling player.

His early career was thus a continual training. He had run from his master the butcher, but he kept his indentures to nature and human life, and was still SHAKESPEARE THE APPRENTICE. Adapting himself to his situation, whatever it might be, he drew out all its points, and made it yield him wisdom as well as subsistence. His occupation, his fellow-workers, and what he could hear and see, became in this way his study and books; and every fresh experience opened to him some new lore. He was led to it, indeed, by no set purpose, but it gave vigour and scope to his faculties, and these were ever on the watch, and looked into everything. For, while he was attracted to the beautiful and great, his craving for knowledge was such, that he would not pass the little and mean, and all became gold in the crucible of his mind. It lay there unused for the present, and possibly unthought of, as if he was unconscious of its value, but, in

truth, it was from ignorance of his powers, though these burst forth at times in glorious song, and the measure of others showed him his own stature. Not that this was necessary ; for though Cromwell saw the phantom of his greatness while he was busy with his plough, it is Cromwell who says that men never climb so high as when they know not where they are going. No phantom came to Shakespeare; and greatness, though he achieved it, was thrust upon him. His sonnets prove that it was never an aspiration, and still less now, when all his thoughts were given to the moment-to his mistress, to the duties of a new vocation, and the attractions of a new companionship. The position suited the temper he was in; and the loose, wild habits which, once formed, could not easily be dropped. At this period he

seems to come and go before us, as in a play, passing behind the scenes in one dress, and reappearing in another in a new scene, and with new aims. We can hardly be wrong in thinking that he was exhibiting the same variableness to those amongst whom he moved; now excelling in his part, whatever it might be; now meditating alone in some solitary spot; now running riot with the most reckless of the company.

The revival of the drama had spread a taste for theatrical entertainments through the community, except among the Puritans, who denounced them in the strongest terms, but could not convince the public. The players had thus a wide field, and it was occupied by a number of companies, most of which were continually on the move, and did not leave behind a good impression, either by the characters they sustained on the stage or their own. Hence arose many complaints, and it was determined to bring the whole body under the curb of authority, which was accomplished by the Poor Act of 1572, when the liabilities of "rogues and vagabonds" attached to all "fencers, bearwards, common players in interludes, and minstrels, not belonging to any baron of this