PREFACE. IN the world's literature the greatest name is Shakespeare. Equally true is the assertion that in the world's literature there is no greater name than Bacon. Shakespeare and Bacon, if they are to be distinguished, were contemporaries; the apparatus of scholarship, books, colleges, teachers, and all the accumulations of literary creation, which they used, were the same for both. If they stood on an equal literary level they must have climbed the heights by the same paths, and at much the same time, and one would think they must have elbowed one another during the ascent. And yet neither of them refers to the other, even by the most covert allusion. Still the identical culture must assert itself whether it is acknowledged or not, and accordingly we find that the two groups of writings perpetually touch one. another, and each may supply the other with innumerable lights of interpretation. Notwithstanding these cross lights of mutual reflection, the separate students of each seem resolved to keep them apart. In the elucidation of Bacon's philosophy Shakespeare is neglected, in the interpretation of Shakespeare's poetry Bacon is neglected. If any comparison is made between them it is usually one rather of grammatical form and structure, than of interior soul and substance. At the same time it is a commonplace in Bacon biography to bracket the two names together as representing literary production equal in value, and similar in quality: though as a rule this approximation is expressed in general terms, while particular applications are rarely supplied. One of X the reasons for this, with the more recent critics and biographers, is a most tremulous timidity arising out of an apprehension of being compromised by association with that most obnoxious group of quasi-literary persons who advocate the personal identity of Bacon and Shakespeare. If some singular resemblance in thought or expression is pointed out, the critic hastens to separate himself from those who see more in this than a casual and quite accidental resemblance. "Do not suppose," the critic eagerly explains, "that I assert that Bacon wrote Shakespeare, because I point out these identities in style or idea : "—the imputation is too terrible, and the critic protests his orthodoxy by most severe comments on the mentalalmost moral-unsoundness that can arrive at such a distressing conclusion. I am persuaded that Shakespearean comment and annotation has suffered severely from this resolute determination to keep the two groups of writings apart; and one design of this volume is to protest against this neglect of Baconian light on Shakespeare, and to show, by signal examples, what a rich field of illustration and interpretation is thus ignored. Let these great poems, we say, be brought into relationship with all Elizabethan literature which can supply helpful elucidation. We ask for no exceptional favour for Bacon's writings-we only ask that they should take the place that rightfully belongs to them. If the result is that our theory forces itself forward either as a corollary lawfully deduced from these comments, or as a hypothesis that may be used to account for them-let it be so; that is only fair play and no favour. But oh, most gentle and gentlemanly critics, do be patient and tolerant about it;-be not so indelicately angry! Cease your clamours and asperities, and denunciations and vituperations, and let us talk over the matter gravely and calmly, without vulgar abuse or heated imputations! Perfervid disputation always has a flavour not only of extravagance but of insincerity, and we |