When writing in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I., though both sovereigns were sometimes in personal danger, yet the monarchical system itself was never resisted, nor in any way opposed. There were, indeed, rival competitors for the crown, conspiracies and threats of foreign invasion. But the idea of a republic, or military dictatorship, in place of a deposed sovereign was either never thought of, or at least never openly advocated. Yet both these changes England was fated to experience, though not even Shakespeare's genius could foresee such a future. It was natural, therefore, that the triumphant republicans, like Cromwell's military enthusiasts who supplanted them, should both condemn Shakespeare's works. There were sound political reasons for their animosity.

Shakespeare, as England's future proved, took the surest way an author could to render monarchy popular amongst its people. He found his nation deeply attached to its principle, and he confirmed its ancient traditional hold on the veneration and respect of his fellow-Englishmen with all the power of his poetic splendour.2 He knew that the favourite plan of enemies to monarchy, sometimes justified by unworthy sovereigns, was to represent all monarchs as

I Scott's remarks in his novel of "Woodstock," also the Histories of Hume and Macaulay.

2 "With Shakespeare, as with his fellow-countrymen, the Crown is still the centre and safeguard of the national life. His ideal England is an England grouped around a noble king."-Green's "History of the English People," Vol. 2nd, Book 6th.

hard-hearted, tyrannical, utterly indifferent to their subjects' welfare, and devoid of all sense of duty. He, therefore, constantly describes them in most interesting, heroic, and pathetic situations.

From King John to Henry VIII., inclusive, all English kings are made more or less interesting. Even John himself, a choice specimen for the most ardent republican to denounce without much risk of exaggeration, Shakespeare makes finally an object of compassion, while the attractive descriptions of the Princes Arthur and Henry, as well as Queen Constance, would gratify the most sincere loyalist of their times.

Had not Shakespeare been a thorough monarchist, John's disgraceful reign might have inspired him with hints, sarcasms, even descriptions hostile to kingly power. But, in accordance with history, the last scene of the play leaves the young king, Henry III., surrounded by loyal new subjects, eagerly vowing allegiance, thus proving that John's odious character had neither in reality, nor in Shakespeare's mind, weakened in the least that attachment to monarchy, which alike distinguished the poet and his nation.

From historical evidence, transmitted through literature by legal enactment and public manifestation, the spirit of Shakespeare's historical plays represents, with remarkable accuracy, the political feelings of his countrymen. But neither he nor any of his cotemporaries could foresee the extraordinary political changes that were approaching. The brief, yet absolute, triumph of the republican Independents, who

soon obeyed Cromwell's dictatorship, was, indeed, a new feature in England's history.

Most of them, like their Puritan allies, with few exceptions, viewed not only Shakespeare's plays but all artistic beauty with destructive as well as fanatical abhorrence. I The whole style, spirit, and policy revealed by Shakespeare, completely opposed those of the brave, energetic faction, which, though never very numerous in England, acquired under Cromwell's command, a short, but complete, supremacy.

In successive historical plays, Shakespeare induces readers to admire, pity, or take special interest in the royal personages. In Richard II., even that reckless young king is pitied at last, while his noble uncle, John of Gaunt, and the gallant Bolingbroke, his son, afterwards Henry IV., claim admiration and interest. In the historically subsequent play of Henry IV., that victorious king, after overcoming many revolts, conspiracies, and troubles, is described as eagerly maintaining and promoting his subjects' welfare. His last scene, where he exhorts his wild son, afterwards Henry V., to do his duty to the English nation, and the fervent eloquence with which he foretells the probable ruin of England under a reckless king, is written in a spirit devoted to monarchy.

The same inclination appears in Henry V., where the prince is transformed partly through the effect of his father's last words into a patriotic, noble sovereign.

I

Macaulay has an amusing remark on this subject. "Nymphs and Graces, the work of Ionian chisels, were delivered over to Puritan stonemasons to be made decent."—" History of England," Vol. 1st, Ch. II.

He shares all the hardships of his soldiers in the French war, animating them by example and exhortation, while showing anxiety for their permanent welfare, as well as for their military triumph. This description being strictly historical, is precisely fitted to make the name as well as the individual person of a king beloved, popular, and respected.

In the succeeding troubled reign of Henry VI., whose real timidity was a thorough contrast to his father and grandfather, Shakespeare had a long and difficult task to perform. It seems doubtful how much of this strange, inferior play was written by him.2 Yet it was probably read, if not approved, by him before its pub lication under his name. Its views were, therefore, in all likelihood, not opposed to his, though expressed without that sense, power, and beauty which distinguish his undoubted productions. Hence, it is possible that the odious, distorted, almost vulgar sketch of Joan of Arc, though probably from its style not written by him, yet represented his belief in witchcraft.

In the present day, when such an idea is often thought incompatible, not only with genius or mental enlightenment, but with ordinary common sense, it may appear strange that Shakespeare could believe in it. But if the history of his times is carefully examined, with its legal powers, decrees, and enactments, together with the conduct of responsible

* Hallam's "Literary History," also Hume's "History of Henry V."

2 Furnivall's Introduction to the "Royal" Shakespeare.

statesmen, and even the opinions of learned theologians about witchcraft, Shakespeare's believing in it seems not unlikely.'

It was certainly believed in by the old and new divisions of the Christian Church. Papal decrees and the writings of the chief Reformers, Luther especially, alike express complete belief in it. While differing in points of doctrine, and even in some rules of conduct or political opinion, it is evident that for many years Catholics and Protestants agreed about the reality, and, therefore, the guilt and danger, of witchcraft.

In Shakespeare's time many alleged witches were executed in Scotland,2 yet their fate elicited popular relief of mind and general thankfulness instead of indignation, disgust, or compassion.3 No appeal, representation, or remonstrance in their behalf was apparently made or contemplated. When these historic facts are considered, there is nothing very surprising in Shakespeare's believing in witchcraft, which may explain Joan of Arc's repulsive description, though its coarse, even absurd, style shows none of his genius.

In the vivid sketch of the bold democrat, Jack Cade, there are many signs of Shakespeare's wit, as

I See Lecky's "Rationalism," Vol. 1st, where the author calls Shakespeare's account of Joan "the darkest blot upon his genius." 2 Strickland's "Life of Mary Queen of Scots," also Scott's "Bride of Lammermoor."

3 See Lecky's chapters on Witchcraft ("Rationalism," Vol. 1st), from which it seems that in England about Shakespeare's time witches were subject to death on the first conviction. This law was sanctioned by James I., who was a firm believer in witchcraft.