doings of the time:  nevertheless I rather fail to see how any real good is to be gained towards understanding the Poet from such interpretations of his scenes, or from tracing out such “definite relations” between his workmanship and the persons and particulars that may have come to his knowledge.  For my own part, I doubt whether “the innermost sense” of the play is any the clearer to me for this ingenious piece of explanation.

Besides, I have yet to learn what proofs there are that the ill-fated Essex was an early patron and friend of Shakespeare.  That great honour belongs to the Earls of Southampton and Pembroke.  It was Lord Bacon, not Shakespeare, who enjoyed so richly the friendship and patronage of the generous Essex; and how he requited the same is known much too well for his credit.  I am not unmindful that this may yield some comfort to those who would persuade us that Shakespeare’s plays were written by Lord Bacon.  Upon this point I have just four things to say:  First, Bacon’s requital of the Earl’s bounty was such a piece of ingratitude as I can hardly conceive the author of King Lear to have been guilty of:  Second, the author of Shakespeare’s plays, whoever he may have been, certainly was not a scholar; he had indeed something vastly better than learning, but he had not that:  Third, Shakespeare never philosophizes, Bacon never does anything else:  Fourth, Bacon’s mind, great as it was, might have been cut out of Shakespeare’s without being missed.

* * * * *

Any very firm or strong delineation of character, any deep passion, earnest purpose, or working of powerful motives, would clearly go at odds with the spirit of such a performance as I have described this play to be.  It has room but for love and beauty and delight, for whatever is most poetical in nature and fancy, and for such tranquil stirrings of thought and feeling as may flow out in musical expression.  Any such tuggings of mind or heart as would ruffle and discompose the smoothness of lyrical division would be quite out of keeping in a course of dream-life.  The characters here, accordingly, are drawn with light, delicate, vanishing touches; some of them being dreamy and sentimental, some gay and frolicsome, and others replete with amusing absurdities, while all are alike dipped in fancy or sprinkled with humour.  And for the same reason the tender distresses of unrequited or forsaken love here touch not our moral sense at all, but only at the most our human sympathies; love itself being represented as but the effect of some visual enchantment, which the King of Fairydom can inspire, suspend, or reverse at pleasure.  Even the heroic personages are fitly shown in an unheroic aspect:  we see them but in their unbendings, when they have daffed their martial robes aside, to lead the train of day-dreamers, and have a nuptial jubilee.  In their case, great care and art were required, to make the play what it has been blamed for being; that is, to keep the dramatic sufficiently under, and lest the law of a part should override the law of the whole.