There is another matter which I think Mr. Harris should ponder. He says that Shakespeare was but “little esteemed by his own generation.” He even describes Jonson’s description of his “little Latin and less Greek” as a sneer, whereas it occurs in an unmistakably sincere eulogy of Shakespeare, written after his death, and is clearly meant to heighten the impression of Shakespeare’s prodigious natural endowments by pointing out that they were not due to scholastic acquirements. Now there is a sense in which it is true enough that Shakespeare was too little esteemed by his own generation, or, for the matter of that, by any subsequent generation. The bargees on the Regent’s Canal do not chant Shakespeare’s verses as the gondoliers in Venice are said to chant the verses of Tasso (a practice which was suspended for some reason during my stay in Venice: at least no gondolier ever did it in my hearing). Shakespeare is no more a popular author than Rodin is a popular sculptor or Richard Strauss a popular composer. But Shakespeare was certainly not such a fool as to expect the Toms, Dicks, and Harrys of his time to be any more interested in dramatic poetry than Newton, later on, expected them to be interested in fluxions. And when we come to the question whether Shakespeare missed that assurance which all great men have had from the more capable and susceptible members of their generation that they were great men, Ben Jonson’s evidence disposes of so improbable a notion at once and forever. “I loved the man,” says Ben, “this side idolatry, as well as any.” Now why in the name of common sense should he have made that qualification unless there had been, not only idolatry, but idolatry fulsome enough to irritate Jonson into an express disavowal of it? Jonson, the bricklayer, must have felt sore sometimes when Shakespeare spoke and wrote of bricklayers as his inferiors. He must have felt it a little hard that being a better scholar, and perhaps a braver and tougher man physically than Shakespeare, he was not so successful or so well liked. But in spite of this he praised Shakespeare to the utmost stretch of his powers of eulogy: in fact, notwithstanding his disclaimer, he did not stop “this side idolatry.” If, therefore, even Jonson felt himself forced to clear himself of extravagance and absurdity in his appreciation of Shakespeare, there must have been many people about who idolized Shakespeare as American ladies idolize Paderewski, and who carried Bardolatry, even in the Bard’s own time, to an extent that threatened to make his reasonable admirers ridiculous. + 