September 1, 1887.] 



♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦ 



249 



In Sonnet 26, he expresses the hope that some good con- 

 ceit of the person addressed (whoever he may have been), 

 may bestow the poet's duty in his soul's thought (whatever 

 that may mean) — 



Till whatsoever star that guides my moving, 

 Points on me graciously with fair aspect. 



In the preceding sonnet lie had spoken of " those who 

 are in favour with theii' stars." Througliout, as tliroughout 

 the plays, there is a general yet half-doubting acceptance of 

 astrological ideas, but nowhere any reference to such ideas 

 as Bacon advanced in what he called a system of rational 

 astrology. 



Among references to painting, I note especially those in 

 Sonnet 24 :— 



Mine eye hath play'd the painter, and hath stell'd 

 Thy beauty's form in table of my heart; 



My body is the frame wherein 't is held. 

 And jiei'spectire it is best painter's art 



And through the painter must you see his skill. 



(The play on words here is very curious — you are to see 

 through the painter the painter's skill, because perspective 

 or through-seeing is the best art of the painter) : — 



" To find where your true image pictured lies, 

 Which in my bosom's shop is hinqing still, 

 That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes. 

 Now see what good turn eyes for eyes have done ; 

 Mine eyes have drawn tliy shape, and thine for me 

 Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun 

 Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee ; 

 Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art, 

 They draw but what they see, know not the heart. 



This artificial style is certainly not Shakespeare's best, 

 and is found only in the earlier plays. Yet in " King John " 

 we find a passage which may be compared with Sonnet 24, 

 where Lewis says of Blanche : — 



In her eye I find 

 A wonder or a wondrous miracle. 

 The shadow of myself formed in her eye ; 

 Which being but the shadow of your son, 

 Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow ; 

 I do protest I never lov'd myself 

 Till now infixed I beheld myself 

 Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. 



It is to be noted, however, that Shakespeare means this 

 to be taken as poor nonsense; for Falconbridge forthwith, 

 with hearty scorn, laughs it all to the winds. Echoing the 

 Dauphin's folly, he says : — 



Drawn in the flattering table of her eye, 



Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow ; 



And quarter'd in her heart I he doth espy 



Himself love's traitor ; this is pity now. 



That hang'd and drawn and quarter'd there should be 



In such a love so vile a lout as he. 



How prettily, in Sonnet 128, Shakespeare brings music 

 to his aid in appealing to his mistress for her love : — 



How oft, when thou my music play'st. 

 Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds 

 With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st 

 The wiry concord that mine ear confounds. 

 Do I envy those J3<^Z:< that nimbly leap 

 To kiss the tender inward of thine hand, 

 Whilst my poor lips that should that harvest reap. 

 At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand 1 

 To be so tickled, they would change their state 

 And situation with those dancing chips. 

 O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, 

 Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips. 

 Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, 

 Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. 



I have not space to quote or even to mention Shake- 

 speare's repeated references throughout the sonnets to flower 



and field, sowing and reaping, summer and winter, and the 

 ways and works of those who till the soil. But I would 

 specially recommend Sonnets 98 and 99 to those who, 

 having noted how such matters are dealt with in the plays, 

 and that Bacon, after his colder manner, knew much and 

 thought much of flowers and gardens, fondly imagine that 

 Bacon therefore wrote the plays. They run thus : — 



From you have I been absent in the spring. 



When proud-pied .\pril, dress'd in all his trim, 



Hath put a spirit of youth in everything. 



That heavy Saturn laugh 'd and leap'd with him. 



Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell 



Of different flowers in odour and in hue. 



Could make me any summer's story tell. 



Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; 



Nor did I wonder at the lily's white. 



Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose ; 



They were but sweet, but figures of delight. 



Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. 

 Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away. 

 As with your shadow I with these did play. 



The forward violet thus did I chide : 



Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells. 



If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride, 



Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells, 



In raj' love's veins thou hast too grossly dy'd. 



The lily I condemned for thy hand. 



And buds of marjoram hid stol'n thy hair ; 



The roses fearfully on thorns did stand, 



One blushing .shame, another white despair ; 



A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both. 



And to his robbery, had annex'd thy breath ; 



But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth, 



A vengeful canker eat him up to death. 



More flowers I noted, yet I none could see 



But sweet or colour it had stol'n from thee. 



If the same poet wrote not these lines who conceived the 

 exquisite poetry of Perdita's thoughts on flowers in " The 

 Winter's Tale " (act iv. sc. .3), then can no poet — Homer or 

 Virgil, Dante or Miltoit, Chaucer or Spenser, Goethe, 

 Schiller, Corneille, or Hugo — be known by his .style or 

 power. 



And now to show surely that Shakespeare wrote the 

 sonnets, or that at least Francis Bacon did not (and no 

 William Bacon has yet been suggested as the real 

 Shake.speare), let the last lines of Sonnet 136 be quoted 

 here at the last. It might be taken even as an appeal to 

 the doubting Baconian : — 



Though in thy stores' account I one must be, 

 For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold 

 That nothing me, a something sweet to thee ; 

 Make hut mg name thy litre, and lore that stiU, 

 And tlwn tlion lorst me, far nig name is Will. 



The Mullein Test in Consu.mption, — The success attending 

 the treatment of consumption with mullein leaves by Dr. Quinlan, 

 of Dublin, and which has been so widely published, has led him to 

 make a formulated statement, showing briefly that in the earlier 

 and pretubercular stage of pulmonary consumption, mullein has a 

 weight-increasing and curative power greater than that of corl liver 

 oil and equal to that of Russian koumiss ; in cases where tubercles 

 are well established or cavities exist, the mullein has great power in 

 relieving cough ; phthisical diarrhcea is completely obviated by the 

 mullein ; but it has no power or effect on the night-sweats of con- 

 sumption, which are to be combated by atropia sulphate. Three 

 ounces of the fresh green leaves, or about ten times as much of the 

 dried, are boiled in a pint of fresh cow's milk, and after boiling a 

 moment, the infusion is allowed to stand and " sipe " for ten 

 minutes, when it is strained, sweetened and drunk while warm ; 

 this quantity is taken twice or three times a day. It is generally 

 much relished by the patients, who regard it as a pleasant article of 

 diet rather than as a medicine. The smoke of these leaves, inhaled 

 into the respiratory passages, relieves irritation and spasmodic 

 cough. 



