its meaning in this passage, although the speaker has used it just before in its more common sense of either a boy or a girl.

Again, there is the word "gull," in Timon of Athens (act ii. scene 1),

But I do fear,

When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,

Which flashes now a phoenix;

which most of the critics have thought alluded to a seagull, whereas it means an unfledged nestling, which to this day is so called in Warwickshire. And this interpretation throws a light on a passage in the First Part of King Henry IV. (act v. scene 1):

You used me so,

As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth the sparrow;—

where some notes amusingly say that the word alludes to the voracity of the cuckoo. I may add that the Warwickshire farmers' wives even now call their young goslings gulls.

There is also a very common Warwickshire phrase, "contain yourself," that is, restrain yourself; and so in Timon of Athens (act ii. sc. 2), Timon says to his creditor's servant, "Contain yourself, good friend;" and so again, in Troilus and Cressida (act v. sc. 2), Ulysses says:

O contain yourself,

Your passion draws ears hither.

And in the Two Gentlemen of Verona (act iv. scene 4), we find Launce using the still rarer phrase of "keep yourself," in the same sense to his dog Crab.

I will not, though, dwell too long upon a subject which, however curious, is still of very secondary importance. For the benefit of those who take an interest in word-lore, I have ventured to give in an Appendix a short glossary of words used in Shakspere's plays which are still to be heard in Warwickshire. For it is, after all, touching to think that, amidst the change that is ever going on, the same phrases which Shakspere spoke are still spoken in his native county, and that the flowers are still called by the same names which he called them.

I SHOULD indeed be guilty of giving Hamlet without Hamlet, were I to omit a chapter upon Shakspere himself, for I will not pay so bad a compliment to the reader as to suppose that he is impelled by the mere love of vulgar sight-seeing to visit Stratford. And my aim here will be, what it has been throughout the book, to show Shakspere as a

moralist, and to remove the impression of that common opinion about him, which is still so current, that he was a great irregular genius. And let no one take alarm at that word moralist, for by it I simply wish to indicate the comprehensive manner in which Shakspere ought to be treated. I am not going to prove that he belonged to any school or sect, but simply intend treating him as the Catholic priest of all humanity, believing with Milton that "the lofty grave tragedians are the teachers best of moral prudence." The word "moralist" includes everything concerning a man; and no great work of art can help but be deeply moral, for the insight into the Beautiful is the insight into the Divine, and the artist, to see the Beautiful, must necessarily be imbued with reverence and religion. This is an old truth, too often in our days forgotten; Strabo affirmed it in a passage before quoted; ποιητοῦ συνέζευκται τῇ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, καὶ εἰε οἷόντε ἀγαθὸν γενέσθαι ποιητὴν, μὴ πρότερον γενηθέντα ἄνδρα ἀγαθὸν. ayalov. And Milton said the same, when he declared that the writer of a poem must himself be a perfect

poem.

But in the case of Shakspere we are too likely to overlook the point. His great command and power of language, his gorgeous colouring, and his imagery attract most readers to their superficial beauty, instead of directing

them to the inner unity of the piece. His plays are so composite, so filled with both variety of character and matter, that we are in danger of losing sight of the simple idea round which everything moves. Hence he has been

accused of writing without plan, or moral purpose. Even Wordsworth says,

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue

That Shakspere spake, the faith and morals hold
Which Milton held.

And the same vicious distinction is made, if not by our best, by our most popular critics.

Another reason for this view is that Shakspere has no definite system, no special morality; he is too sound to bring into prominence any one article, or creed, at the expense of another. He is like Nature: the trees and the flowers in Nature silently blossom, and bloom alike in open places and wildest desert, and to the common mind they have no meaning. They say never a word, and yet are full of meaning. The world moves on, and in silence the seasons come and go, and leave no impression on the ordinary man; yet who shall say they teach no lesson ? The gloom of the mountains, the brightness of the valleys, the sunshine clothing wold and wood, the sternness of winter, the joy of spring, are all full of meaning.