Having thus established his case in the first instance to the satisfaction, as he trusted, not only of the present Society, but of any asylum for incurables in any part of the country, the learned member now passed on to the consideration of the allusions at once to Shakespeare and to a celebrated fellow-countryman, fellow-poet, and personal friend of his—­Michael Drayton—­contained in a play which had been doubtfully attributed to Shakespeare himself by such absurd idiots as looked rather to the poetical and dramatic quality of a poem or a play than to such tests as those to which alone any member of that Society would ever dream of appealing.  What these were he need not specify; it was enough to say in recommendation of them that they had rather less to do with any question of dramatic or other poetry than with the differential calculus or the squaring of the circle.  It followed that only the most perversely ignorant and aesthetically presumptuous of readers could imagine the possibility of Shakespeare’s concern or partnership in a play which had no more Shakespearean quality about it than mere poetry, mere passion, mere pathos, mere beauty and vigour of thought and language, mere command of dramatic effect, mere depth and subtlety of power to read, interpret, and reproduce the secrets of the heart and spirit.  Could any further evidence be required of the unfitness and unworthiness to hold or to utter any opinion on the matter in hand which had consistently been displayed by the poor creatures to whom he had just referred, it would be found, as he felt sure the Founder and all worthy members of their Society would be the first to admit, in the despicable diffidence, the pitiful modesty, the contemptible deficiency in common assurance, with which the suggestion of Shakespeare’s partnership in this play had generally been put forward and backed up.  The tragedy of Arden of Feversham was indeed connected with Shakespeare—­and that, as he should proceed to show, only too intimately; but Shakespeare was not connected with it—­that is, in the capacity of its author.  In what capacity would be but too evident when he mentioned the names of the two leading ruffians concerned in the murder of the principal character—­Black Will and Shakebag.  The single original of these two characters he need scarcely pause to point out.  It would be observed that a double precaution had been taken against any charge of libel or personal attack which might be brought against the author and supported by the all-powerful court influence of Shakespeare’s two principal patrons, the Earls of Essex and Southampton.  Two figures were substituted for one, and the unmistakable name of Will Shakebag was cut in half and divided between them.  Care had moreover been taken to disguise the person by altering the complexion of the individual aimed at.  That the actual Shakespeare was a fair man they had the evidence of the coloured bust at Stratford.  Could any capable and fair-minded