ThetasteoftheEnglishinthecultivationofland，andinwhat
　　iscalledlandscapegardening，isunrivalled。Theyhavestudiednature
　　intently，anddiscoveranexquisitesenseofherbeautifulformsand
　　harmoniouscombinations。Thosecharms，whichinothercountriesshe
　　lavishesinwildsolitudes，arehereassembledroundthehauntsof
　　domesticlife。Theyseemtohavecaughthercoyandfurtivegraces，
　　andspreadthem，likewitchery，abouttheirruralabodes。
　　NothingcanbemoreimposingthanthemagnificenceofEnglishpark
　　scenery。Vastlawnsthatextendlikesheetsofvividgreen，with
　　hereandthereclumpsofgigantictrees，heapinguprichpilesof
　　foliage：thesolemnpompofgrovesandwoodlandglades，withthe
　　deertroopinginsilentherdsacrossthem；thehare，boundingaway
　　tothecovert；orthepheasant，suddenlyburstinguponthewing；the
　　brook，taughttowindinnaturalmeanderingsorexpandintoaglassy
　　lake；thesequesteredpool，reflectingthequiveringtrees，withthe
　　yellowleafsleepingonitsbosom，andthetroutroamingfearlessly
　　aboutitslimpidwaters；whilesomerustictempleorsylvanstatue，
　　growngreenanddankwithage，givesanairofclassicsanctitytothe
　　seclusion。
　　Thesearebutafewofthefeaturesofparkscenery；butwhatmost
　　delightsme，isthecreativetalentwithwhichtheEnglishdecorate
　　theunostentatiousabodesofmiddlelife。Therudesthabitation，the
　　mostunpromisingandscantyportionofland，inthehandsofan
　　Englishmanoftaste，becomesalittleparadise。Withanicely
　　discriminatingeye，heseizesatonceuponitscapabilities，and
　　picturesinhismindthefuturelandscape。Thesterilespotgrowsinto
　　lovelinessunderhishand；andyettheoperationsofartwhichproduce
　　theeffectarescarcelytobeperceived。Thecherishingandtraining
　　ofsometrees；thecautiouspruningofothers；thenicedistribution
　　offlowersandplantsoftenderandgracefulfoliage；theintroduction
　　ofagreenslopeofvelvetturf；thepartialopeningtoapeepofblue
　　distance，orsilvergleamofwater：allthesearemanagedwitha
　　delicatetact，apervadingyetquietassiduity，likethemagic
　　touchingswithwhichapainterfinishesupafavoritepicture。
　　Theresidenceofpeopleoffortuneandrefinementinthecountryhas
　　diffusedadegreeoftasteandeleganceinruraleconomy，that
　　descendstothelowestclass。Theverylaborer，withhisthatched
　　cottageandnarrowslipofground，attendstotheirembellishment。The
　　trimhedge，thegrassplotbeforethedoor，thelittleflower—bed
　　borderedwithsnugbox，thewoodbinetrainedupagainstthewall，
　　andhangingitsblossomsaboutthelattice，thepotofflowersin
　　thewindow，theholly，providentlyplantedaboutthehouse，tocheat
　　winterofitsdreariness，andtothrowinasemblanceofgreen
　　summertocheerthefireside：allthesebespeaktheinfluenceof
　　taste，flowingdownfromhighsources，andpervadingthelowestlevels
　　ofthepublicmind。IfeverLove，aspoetssing，delightstovisita
　　cottage，itmustbethecottageofanEnglishpeasant。
　　Thefondnessforrurallifeamongthehigherclassesofthe
　　Englishhashadagreatandsalutaryeffectuponthenational
　　character。IdonotknowafinerraceofmenthantheEnglish
　　gentlemen。Insteadofthesoftnessandeffeminacywhichcharacterize
　　themenofrankinmostcountries，theyexhibitaunionofelegance
　　andstrength，arobustnessofframeandfreshnessofcomplexion，which
　　Iaminclinedtoattributetotheirlivingsomuchintheopenair，
　　andpursuingsoeagerlytheinvigoratingrecreationsofthecountry。
　　Thesehardyexercisesproducealsoahealthfultoneofmindand
　　spirits，andamanlinessandsimplicityofmanners，whicheventhe
　　folliesanddissipationsofthetowncannoteasilypervert，andcan
　　neverentirelydestroy。Inthecountry，too，thedifferentordersof
　　societyseemtoapproachmorefreely，tobemoredisposedtoblendand
　　operatefavorablyuponeachother。Thedistinctionsbetweenthemdo
　　notappeartobesomarkedandimpassableasinthecities。Themanner
　　inwhichpropertyhasbeendistributedintosmallestatesandfarms
　　hasestablishedaregulargradationfromthenobleman，throughthe
　　classesofgentry，smalllandedproprietors，andsubstantial
　　farmers，downtothelaboringpeasantry；andwhileithasthus
　　bandedtheextremesofsocietytogether，hasinfusedintoeach
　　intermediaterankaspiritofindependence。This，itmustbe
　　confessed，isnotsouniversallythecaseatpresentasitwas
　　formerly；thelargerestateshaving，inlateyearsofdistress，
　　absorbedthesmaller，and，insomepartsofthecountry，almost
　　annihilatedthesturdyraceofsmallfarmers。These，however，I
　　believe，arebutcasualbreaksinthegeneralsystemIhavementioned。
　　Inruraloccupationthereisnothingmeananddebasing。Itleadsa
　　manforthamongscenesofnaturalgrandeurandbeauty；itleaveshim
　　totheworkingsofhisownmind，operateduponbythepurestand
　　mostelevatingofexternalinfluences。Suchamanmaybesimpleand
　　rough，buthecannotbevulgar。Themanofrefinement，therefore，
　　findsnothingrevoltinginanintercoursewiththelowerordersin
　　rurallife，ashedoeswhenhecasuallymingleswiththelower
　　ordersofcities。Helaysasidehisdistanceandreserve，andis
　　gladtowaivethedistinctionsofrank，andtoenterintothe
　　honest，heartfeltenjoymentsofcommonlife。Indeedthevery
　　amusementsofthecountrybringmenmoreandmoretogether；andthe
　　soundofhoundandhornblendallfeelingsintoharmony。Ibelieve
　　thisisonegreatreasonwhythenobilityandgentryaremore
　　popularamongtheinferiorordersinEnglandthantheyareinany
　　othercountry；andwhythelatterhaveenduredsomanyexcessive
　　pressuresandextremities，withoutrepiningmoregenerallyatthe
　　unequaldistributionoffortuneandprivilege。
　　Tothisminglingofcultivatedandrusticsocietymayalsobe
　　attributedtheruralfeelingthatrunsthroughBritishliterature；the
　　frequentuseofillustrationsfromrurallife；thoseincomparable
　　descriptionsofnaturethataboundintheBritishpoets，thathave
　　continueddownfrom"theFlowerandtheLeaf"ofChaucer，andhave
　　broughtintoourclosetsallthefreshnessandfragranceofthedewy
　　landscape。Thepastoralwritersofothercountriesappearasifthey
　　hadpaidnatureanoccasionalvisit，andbecomeacquaintedwithher
　　generalcharms；buttheBritishpoetshavelivedandrevelledwith
　　her—theyhavewooedherinhermostsecrethaunts—theyhave
　　watchedherminutestcaprices。Aspraycouldnottrembleinthe
　　breeze—aleafcouldnotrustletotheground—adiamonddropcould
　　notpatterinthestream—afragrancecouldnotexhalefromthehumble
　　violet，noradaisyunfolditscrimsontintstothemorning，butit
　　hasbeennoticedbytheseimpassionedanddelicateobservers，and
　　wroughtupintosomebeautifulmorality。
　　Theeffectofthisdevotionofelegantmindstoruraloccupations
　　hasbeenwonderfulonthefaceofthecountry。Agreatpartofthe
　　islandisratherlevel，andwouldbemonotonous，wereitnotforthe
　　charmsofculture：butitisstuddedandgemmed，asitwere，with
　　castlesandpalaces，andembroideredwithparksandgardens。Itdoes
　　notaboundingrandandsublimeprospects，butratherinlittlehome
　　scenesofruralreposeandshelteredquiet。Everyantiquefarm—house
　　andmoss—growncottageisapicture：andastheroadsare
　　continuallywinding，andtheviewisshutinbygrovesandhedges，the
　　eyeisdelightedbyacontinualsuccessionofsmalllandscapesof
　　captivatingloveliness。
　　Thegreatcharm，however，ofEnglishsceneryisthemoralfeeling
　　thatseemstopervadeit。Itisassociatedinthemindwithideasof
　　order，ofquiet，ofsoberwell—establishedprinciples，ofhoary
　　usageandreverendcustom。Everythingseemstobethegrowthof
　　agesofregularandpeacefulexistence。Theoldchurchofremote
　　architecture，withitslowmassiveportal；itsgothictower；its
　　windowsrichwithtraceryandpaintedglass，inscrupulous
　　preservation；itsstatelymonumentsofwarriorsandworthiesofthe
　　oldentime，ancestorsofthepresentlordsofthesoilitstombstones，
　　recordingsuccessivegenerationsofsturdyyeomanry，whoseprogeny
　　stillploughthesamefields，andkneelatthesamealtar—the
　　parsonage，aquaintirregularpile，partlyantiquated，butrepaired
　　andalteredinthetastesofvariousagesandoccupants—thestileand
　　footpathleadingfromthechurch—yard，acrosspleasantfields，and
　　alongshadyhedge—rows，accordingtoanimmemorialrightofway—the
　　neighboringvillage，withitsvenerablecottages，itspublicgreen
　　shelteredbytrees，underwhichtheforefathersofthepresentrace
　　havesported—theantiquefamilymansion，standingapartinsome
　　littleruraldomain，butlookingdownwithaprotectingaironthe
　　surroundingscene：allthesecommonfeaturesofEnglishlandscape
　　evinceacalmandsettledsecurity，andhereditarytransmissionof
　　homebredvirtuesandlocalattachments，thatspeakdeeplyand
　　touchinglyforthemoralcharacterofthenation。
　　ItisapleasingsightofaSundaymorning，whenthebellissending
　　itssobermelodyacrossthequietfields，tobeholdthepeasantryin
　　theirbestfinery，withruddyfacesandmodestcheerfulness，thronging
　　tranquillyalongthegreenlanestochurch；butitisstillmore
　　pleasingtoseethemintheevenings，gatheringabouttheircottage
　　doors，andappearingtoexultinthehumblecomfortsand
　　embellishmentswhichtheirownhandshavespreadaroundthem。
　　Itisthissweethome—feeling，thissettledreposeofaffectionin
　　thedomesticscene，thatis，afterall，theparentofthesteadiest
　　virtuesandpurestenjoyments；andIcannotclosethesedesultory
　　remarksbetter，thanbyquotingthewordsofamodernEnglishpoet，
　　whohasdepicteditwithremarkablefelicity：
　　Througheachgradation，fromthecastledhall，
　　Thecitydome，thevillacrown’dwithshade，
　　Butchieffrommodestmansionsnumberless，
　　Intownorhamlet，shelt’ringmiddlelife，
　　Downtothecottagedvale，andstrawroof’dshed；
　　Thiswesternislehathlongbeenfamedforscenes
　　Whereblissdomesticfindsadwelling—place；
　　Domesticbliss，that，likeaharmlessdove，
　　（Honorandsweetendearmentkeepingguard，）
　　Cancentreinalittlequietnest
　　Allthatdesirewouldflyforthroughtheearth；
　　Thatcan，theworldeluding，beitself
　　Aworldenjoy’d；thatwantsnowitnesses
　　Butitsownsharers，andapprovingheaven；
　　That，likeaflowerdeephidinrockycleft，
　　Smiles，though’tislookingonlyatthesky。*
　　*FromaPoemonthedeathofthePrincessCharlotte，bythe
　　ReverendRannKennedy，A。M。
　　THEEND。
　　1819—20
　　THESKETCHBOOK
　　STRATFORD—ON—AVON
　　byWashingtonIrving
　　Thousoft—flowingAvon，bythysilverstream
　　OfthingsmorethanmortalsweetShakspearewoulddream；
　　Thefairiesbymoonlightdanceroundhisgreenbed，
　　Forhallow’dtheturfiswhichpillow’dhishead。
　　GARRICK。
　　TOahomelessman，whohasnospotonthiswideworldwhichhecan
　　trulycallhisown，thereisamomentaryfeelingofsomethinglike
　　independenceandterritorialconsequence，when，afterawearyday’s
　　travel，hekicksoffhisboots，thrustshisfeetintoslippers，and
　　stretcheshimselfbeforeaninnfire。Lettheworldwithoutgoasit
　　may；letkingdomsriseorfall，solongashehasthewherewithalto
　　payhisbill，heis，forthetimebeing，theverymonarchofallhe
　　surveys。Thearm—chairishisthrone，thepokerhissceptre，andthe
　　littleparlor，sometwelvefeetsquare，hisundisputedempire。Itisa
　　morselofcertainty，snatchedfromthemidstoftheuncertaintiesof
　　life；itisasunnymomentgleamingoutkindlyonacloudyday：andhe
　　whohasadvancedsomewayonthepilgrimageofexistence，knowsthe
　　importanceofhusbandingevenmorselsandmomentsofenjoyment。"Shall
　　Inottakemineeaseinmineinn？"thoughtI，asIgavethefirea
　　stir，lolledbackinmyelbow—chair，andcastacomplacentlook
　　aboutthelittleparloroftheRedHorse，atStratford—on—Avon。
　　ThewordsofsweetShakspearewerejustpassingthroughmymindas
　　theclockstruckmidnightfromthetowerofthechurchinwhichhe
　　liesburied。Therewasagentletapatthedoor，andapretty
　　chambermaid，puttinginhersmilingface，inquired，witha
　　hesitatingair，whetherIhadrung。Iunderstooditasamodesthint
　　thatitwastimetoretire。Mydreamofabsolutedominionwasatan
　　end；soabdicatingmythrone，likeaprudentpotentate，toavoidbeing
　　deposed，andputtingtheStratfordGuide—Bookundermyarm，asa
　　pillowcompanion，Iwenttobed，anddreamtallnightofShakspeare，
　　thejubilee，andDavidGarrick。
　　Thenextmorningwasoneofthosequickeningmorningswhichwe
　　sometimeshaveinearlyspring；foritwasaboutthemiddleof
　　March。Thechillsofalongwinterhadsuddenlygivenway；thenorth
　　windhadspentitslastgasp；andamildaircamestealingfromthe
　　west，breathingthebreathoflifeintonature，andwooingeverybud
　　andflowertoburstforthintofragranceandbeauty。
　　IhadcometoStratfordonapoeticalpilgrimage。Myfirstvisitwas
　　tothehousewhereShakspearewasborn，andwhere，accordingto
　　tradition，hewasbroughtuptohisfather’scraftofwool—combing。It
　　isasmall，mean—lookingedificeofwoodandplaster，atrue
　　nestling—placeofgenius，whichseemstodelightinhatchingits
　　offspringinby—corners。Thewallsofitssqualidchambersarecovered
　　withnamesandinscriptionsineverylanguage，bypilgrimsofall
　　nations，ranks，andconditions，fromtheprincetothepeasant；and
　　presentasimple，butstrikinginstanceofthespontaneousand
　　universalhomageofmankindtothegreatpoetofnature。
　　Thehouseisshownbyagarrulousoldlady，inafrostyredface，
　　lightedupbyacoldblueanxiouseye，andgarnishedwithartificial
　　locksofflaxenhair，curlingfromunderanexceedinglydirtycap。She
　　waspeculiarlyassiduousinexhibitingtherelicswithwhichthis，
　　likeallothercelebratedshrines，abounds。Therewastheshattered
　　stockoftheverymatchlockwithwhichShakspeareshotthedeer，on
　　hispoachingexploits。There，too，washistobacco—box；whichproves
　　thathewasarivalsmokerofSirWalterRaleigh：theswordalso
　　withwhichheplayedHamlet；andtheidenticallanternwithwhich
　　FriarLaurencediscoveredRomeoandJulietatthetomb！Therewasan
　　amplesupplyalsoofShakspeare’smulberry—tree，whichseemstohave
　　asextraordinarypowersofself—multiplicationasthewoodofthetrue
　　cross；ofwhichthereisenoughextanttobuildashipoftheline。
　　Themostfavoriteobjectofcuriosity，however，isShakspeare’s
　　chair。Itstandsinthechimneynookofasmallgloomychamber，just
　　behindwhatwashisfather’sshop。Herehemaymanyatimehavesat
　　whenaboy，watchingtheslowlyrevolvingspitwithallthelongingof
　　anurchin；orofanevening，listeningtothecroniesandgossipsof
　　Stratford，dealingforthchurch—yardtalesandlegendaryanecdotes
　　ofthetroublesometimesofEngland。Inthischairitisthecustomof
　　everyonethatvisitsthehousetosit：whetherthisbedonewith
　　thehopeofimbibinganyoftheinspirationofthebardIamataloss
　　tosay，Imerelymentionthefact；andminehostessprivately
　　assuredme，that，thoughbuiltofsolidoak，suchwastheferventzeal
　　ofdevotees，thatthechairhadtobenew—bottomedatleastoncein
　　threeyears。Itisworthyofnoticealso，inthehistoryofthis
　　extraordinarychair，thatitpartakessomethingofthevolatilenature
　　oftheSantaCasaofLoretto，ortheflyingchairoftheArabian
　　enchanter；forthoughsoldsomefewyearssincetoanorthern
　　princess，yet，strangetotell，ithasfounditswaybackagaintothe
　　oldchimneycorner。
　　Iamalwaysofeasyfaithinsuchmatters，andameverwillingtobe
　　deceived，wherethedeceitispleasantandcostsnothing。Iam
　　thereforeareadybelieverinrelics，legends，andlocalanecdotes
　　ofgoblinsandgreatmen；andwouldadvisealltravellerswhotravel
　　fortheirgratificationtobethesame。Whatisittous，whether
　　thesestoriesbetrueorfalse，solongaswecanpersuadeourselves
　　intothebeliefofthem，andenjoyallthecharmofthereality？There
　　isnothinglikeresolutegood—humoredcredulityinthesematters；
　　andonthisoccasionIwentevensofaraswillinglytobelievethe
　　claimsofminehostesstoalinealdescentfromthepoet，when，
　　luckily，formyfaith，sheputintomyhandsaplayofherown
　　composition，whichsetallbeliefinherconsanguinityatdefiance。
　　Fromthebirth—placeofShakspeareafewpacesbroughtmetohis
　　grave。Heliesburiedinthechanceloftheparishchurch，alargeand
　　venerablepile，moulderingwithage，butrichlyornamented。It
　　standsonthebanksoftheAvon，onanemboweredpoint，and
　　separatedbyadjoininggardensfromthesuburbsofthetown。Its
　　situationisquietandretired：theriverrunsmurmuringatthefoot
　　ofthechurchyard，andtheelmswhichgrowuponitsbanksdroop
　　theirbranchesintoitsclearbosom。Anavenueoflimes，theboughsof
　　whicharecuriouslyinterlaced，soastoforminsummeranarched
　　wayoffoliage，leadsupfromthegateoftheyardtothechurch
　　porch。Thegravesareovergrownwithgrass；thegraytombstones，
　　someofthemnearlysunkintotheearth，arehalfcoveredwithmoss，
　　whichhaslikewisetintedthereverendoldbuilding。Smallbirds
　　havebuilttheirnestsamongthecornicesandfissuresofthewalls，
　　andkeepupacontinualflutterandchirping；androoksaresailing
　　andcawingaboutitsloftygrayspire。
　　InthecourseofmyramblesImetwiththegray—headedsexton，
　　Edmonds，andaccompaniedhimhometogetthekeyofthechurch。Hehad
　　livedinStratford，manandboy，foreightyyears，andseemedstillto
　　considerhimselfavigorousman，withthetrivialexceptionthathe
　　hadnearlylosttheuseofhislegsforafewyearspast。Hisdwelling
　　wasacottage，lookingoutupontheAvonanditsborderingmeadows；
　　andwasapictureofthatneatness，order，andcomfort，which
　　pervadethehumblestdwellingsinthiscountry。Alowwhitewashed
　　room，withastonefloorcarefullyscrubbed，servedforparlor，
　　kitchen，andhall。Rowsofpewterandearthendishesglitteredalong
　　thedresser。Onanoldoakentable，wellrubbedandpolished，lay
　　thefamilyBibleandprayer—book，andthedrawercontainedthe
　　familylibrary，composedofabouthalfascoreofwell—thumbed
　　volumes。Anancientclock，thatimportantarticleofcottage
　　furniture，tickedontheoppositesideoftheroom；withabright
　　warming—panhangingononesideofit，andtheoldman’s
　　horn—handledSundaycaneontheother。Thefireplace，asusual，was
　　wideanddeepenoughtoadmitagossipknotwithinitsjambs。Inone
　　cornersattheoldman’sgranddaughtersewing，aprettyblue—eyed
　　girl，—andintheoppositecornerwasasuperannuatedcrony，whomhe
　　addressedbythenameofJohnAnge，andwho，Ifound，hadbeenhis
　　companionfromchildhood。Theyhadplayedtogetherininfancy；they
　　hadworkedtogetherinmanhood；theywerenowtotteringaboutand
　　gossipingawaytheeveningoflife；andinashorttimetheywill
　　probablybeburiedtogetherintheneighboringchurch—yard。Itis
　　notoftenthatweseetwostreamsofexistencerunningthusevenlyand
　　tranquillysidebyside；itisonlyinsuchquiet"bosomscenes"of
　　lifethattheyaretobemetwith。
　　Ihadhopedtogathersometraditionaryanecdotesofthebardfrom
　　theseancientchroniclers；buttheyhadnothingnewtoimpart。The
　　longintervalduringwhichShakspeare’swritingslayincomparative
　　neglecthasspreaditsshadowoverhishistory；anditishisgood
　　orevillotthatscarcelyanythingremainstohisbiographersbuta
　　scantyhandfulofconjectures。
　　Thesextonandhiscompanionhadbeenemployedascarpenterson
　　thepreparationsforthecelebratedStratfordjubilee，andthey
　　rememberedGarrick，theprimemoverofthefete，whosuperintendedthe
　　arrangements，and，who，accordingtothesexton，was"ashortpunch
　　man，verylivelyandbustling。"JohnAngehadassistedalsoincutting
　　downShakspeare’smulberrytree，ofwhichhehadamorselinhis
　　pocketforsale；nodoubtasovereignquickenerofliterary
　　conception。
　　Iwasgrievedtohearthesetwoworthywightsspeakverydubiously
　　oftheeloquentdamewhoshowstheShakspearehouse。JohnAngeshook
　　hisheadwhenImentionedhervaluablecollectionofrelics，
　　particularlyherremainsofthemulberrytree；andtheoldsextoneven
　　expressedadoubtastoShakspearehavingbeenborninherhouse。I
　　soondiscoveredthathelookeduponhermansionwithanevileye，asa
　　rivaltothepoet’stomb；thelatterhavingcomparativelybutfew
　　visitors。Thusitisthathistoriansdifferattheveryoutset，and
　　merepebblesmakethestreamoftruthdivergeintodifferent
　　channelsevenatthefountainhead。
　　Weapproachedthechurchthroughtheavenueoflimes，andenteredby
　　aGothicporch，highlyornamented，withcarveddoorsofmassiveoak。
　　Theinteriorisspacious，andthearchitectureandembellishments
　　superiortothoseofmostcountrychurches。Thereareseveral
　　ancientmonumentsofnobilityandgentry，oversomeofwhichhang
　　funeralescutcheons，andbannersdroppingpiecemealfromthewalls。
　　ThetombofShakspeareisinthechancel。Theplaceissolemnand
　　sepulchral。Tallelmswavebeforethepointedwindows，andtheAvon，
　　whichrunsatashortdistancefromthewalls，keepsupalow
　　perpetualmurmur。Aflatstonemarksthespotwherethebardis
　　buried。Therearefourlinesinscribedonit，saidtohavebeen
　　writtenbyhimself，andwhichhaveinthemsomethingextremely
　　awful。Iftheyareindeedhisown，theyshowthatsolicitudeaboutthe
　　quietofthegrave，whichseemsnaturaltofinesensibilitiesand
　　thoughtfulminds。
　　Goodfriend，forJesus’sakeforbeare
　　Todigthedustenclosedhere。
　　Blessedbehethatsparesthesestones，
　　Andcurstbehethatmovesmybones。
　　Justoverthegrave，inanicheofthewall，isabustof
　　Shakspeare，putupshortlyafterhisdeath，andconsideredasa
　　resemblance。Theaspectispleasantandserene，withafinely—arched
　　forehead；andIthoughtIcouldreadinitclearindicationsofthat
　　cheerful，socialdisposition，bywhichhewasasmuchcharacterized
　　amonghiscontemporariesasbythevastnessofhisgenius。The
　　inscriptionmentionshisageatthetimeofhisdecease—fifty—three
　　years；anuntimelydeathfortheworld：forwhatfruitmightnot
　　havebeenexpectedfromthegoldenautumnofsuchamind，shelteredas
　　itwasfromthestormyvicissitudesoflife，andflourishinginthe
　　sunshineofpopularandroyalfavor。
　　Theinscriptiononthetombstonehasnotbeenwithoutitseffect。It
　　haspreventedtheremovalofhisremainsfromthebosomofhis
　　nativeplacetoWestminsterAbbey，whichwasatonetimecontemplated。
　　Afewyearssincealso，assomelaborerswerediggingtomakean
　　adjoiningvault，theearthcavedin，soastoleaveavacantspace
　　almostlikeanarch，throughwhichonemighthavereachedintohis
　　grave。Noone，however，presumedtomeddlewithhisremainssoawfully
　　guardedbyamalediction；andlestanyoftheidleorthecurious，
　　oranycollectorofrelics，shouldbetemptedtocommit
　　depredations，theoldsextonkeptwatchovertheplacefortwodays，
　　untilthevaultwasfinishedandtheapertureclosedagain。Hetoldme
　　thathehadmadeboldtolookinatthehole，butcouldseeneither
　　coffinnorbones；nothingbutdust。Itwassomething，Ithought，to
　　haveseenthedustofShakspeare。
　　Nexttothisgravearethoseofhiswife，hisfavoritedaughter，
　　Mrs。Hall，andothersofhisfamily。Onatombcloseby，also，isa
　　full—lengtheffigyofhisoldfriendJohnCombeofusuriousmemory；on
　　whomheissaidtohavewrittenaludicrousepitaph。Thereareother
　　monumentsaround，butthemindrefusestodwellonanythingthatis
　　notconnectedwithShakspeare。Hisideapervadestheplace；the
　　wholepileseemsbutashismausoleum。Thefeelings，nolongerchecked
　　andthwartedbydoubt，hereindulgeinperfectconfidence：other
　　tracesofhimmaybefalseordubious，buthereispalpableevidence
　　andabsolutecertainty。AsItrodthesoundingpavement，therewas
　　somethingintenseandthrillingintheidea，that，inverytruth，
　　theremainsofShakspeareweremoulderingbeneathmyfeet。Itwasa
　　longtimebeforeIcouldprevailuponmyselftoleavetheplace；and
　　asIpassedthroughthechurch—yard，Ipluckedabranchfromoneof
　　theyewtrees，theonlyrelicthatIhavebroughtfromStratford。
　　Ihadnowvisitedtheusualobjectsofapilgrim’sdevotion，butI
　　hadadesiretoseetheoldfamilyseatoftheLucys，atCharlecot，
　　andtoramblethroughtheparkwhereShakspeare，incompanywith
　　someoftheroysterersofStratford，committedhisyouthfuloffenceof
　　deer—stealing。Inthisharebrainedexploitwearetoldthathewas
　　takenprisoner，andcarriedtothekeeper’slodge，whereheremained
　　allnightindolefulcaptivity。Whenbroughtintothepresenceof
　　SirThomasLucy，histreatmentmusthavebeengallingandhumiliating；
　　foritsowroughtuponhisspiritastoproducearoughpasquinade，
　　whichwasaffixedtotheparkgateatCharlecot。**Thefollowingistheonlystanzaextantofthislampoon：—
　　Aparliamentmember，ajusticeofpeace，
　　Athomeapoorscarecrow，atLondonanasse，
　　IflowsieisLucy，assomevolkemiscalleit，
　　ThenLucyislowsie，whateverbefallit。