Since I commenced the study of this subject, I have learned that Eugene Reichel has published in Stuttgart a critical study entitled Who Wrote the Novum Organon? "That the writer of the work," says The Nation (September 29, 1887), "could not be Francis Bacon, Reichel argues, not without plausibility." "By an elaborate analysis, [he] detects, in the Novum Organon, an original work, overlaid, and often marred, by Baconian superfetation—a work more poetical, and, indeed, philosophical, than was to be expected from Bacon's make of mind. Satisfied thus that Bacon plagiarized everything worth having in the book which is the corner-stone of his fame, the Teutonic critic next inquires who was the real writer of the manuscript. The final conclusion of Reichel is that the true originator of the world-famous and epoch-making Organon was a teacher of Bacon's, who, taken suddenly sick, on his deathbed intrusted his philosophical manuscript for publication to his promising pupil. That Bacon-aware that dead men tell no tales-should have stamped the work here and there with his own fingermarks in order to hide the real authorship, and, having thus disguised his stealings, should bring them before the world as all his own, and The Greatest Birth of Time, was quite in keeping with the character of a man whom Pope damned to everlasting infamy as the 'meanest of mankind.'" If Reichel had been fully aware of the intimacy which existed between Bacon and Jonson, he would doubtless have anticipated the argument which has been attempted in these pages. When Jonson paid that eventful visit to Drummond to confer with and to confide in him, he gave him a description of the Imprese which he had adopted. "An Imprese," Camden says (Remains, p. 158, ed. 1605), “is a devise in picture with his Motto, or Word, borne by noble and learned personages, to notifie some particular conceit of their owne."

"It will be remembered," says Holmes, Authorship of Shakespeare, p. 337, "that Bacon's scheme of philosophy constituted a kind of intellectual globe or full circle."

Now Jonson's "Imprese "" was a compass with one foot in centre, the other broken (used as a crest); the word (motto)

Deest quod duceret orbem. His arms were three spindles or rhombi; his own word (motto) about them, Percunctabor, or Perscrutator." (Drummond of Hawthornden, Macmillan,

1873, pp. 100, 101.)

If Jonson intended to convey the idea that the circle would never be completed under Bacon's name; but that if it had been undertaken, as it should rightfully have been, under the name of Jonson, then the "full circle" should have been drawn, he could not have expressed his meaning more clearly. But, alas! that was wanting, his name.

DEEST QUOD DUCERET ORBEM

That is wanting which, were it present, would draw the circle.
(And, under the three spindles,)
PERSCRUTATOR

Thorough Investigator.

Language is powerless to impart conviction, if by this Jonson does not convince us that he was indeed the author of The Great Instauration. The broken compass signified that that was wanting which, had it been present, would have completed the intellectual circle; Poetry, Philosophy, and History were the three spindles from which the thread was unwound that was woven into the gorgeous raiment which unworthy Bacon wore. Yes, in spite of the disguisings, defacings, and erasures, though manhood was outraged, friendship violated, and a world deceived, we can clearly discern that the so-called Baconian Philosophy was the work of Jonson. The evidence is complete, though an ignoble ambition has done its worst.

"I rather thought, and with religion think,
Had all the characters of love been lost,
Its lines, dimensions, and whole signature
Razed and defaced, with dull humanity,
That both his nature and his essence might
Have found their mighty Instauration here:
Here, where the confluence of fair and good
Meets to make up all beauty."

(Jonson's Works, p. 422.) |

I reserve the Parallelisms for a concluding paper.

(To be concluded.)

ALFRED WAITES.

A PLEA FOR CASSIUS.

CAREFUL reading of Julius Cæsar, comparing it with Plutarch, ought to convince the most sceptical that Shakespeare never intended Cassius to be quite the villain so many persist in thinking him. The real villains, as portrayed by the poet, sometimes teach, indirectly, a sublime code of ethics, but seldom or never put it to any practical use, as did Cassius. That he was not "the noblest Roman of them all" may be true, but Brutus called him "the last of the Romans," adding that it was impossible the City should ever again produce so great a spirit. Plutarch further says: "Cassius had a natural hatred and rancor against the whole race of tyrants; " moreover, he was a brave soldier, a patriotic citizen, and a true friend: three qualities incompatible with our idea of a man not actuated by noble impulses. A proof, however, of his worth may be found in the fact of his having many friends among "the choice and master spirits" of his age; among which were Messala, Decius, Titinius, Brutus, and others. This is the more remarkable when one considers that, though a disciple of Epicurus, he was the last man one would have selected as harboring Epicurean doctrines. Of a nature stern and unyielding, a disposition rash and irritable, 'that carries anger as the flint bears fire, and straight is cold again," together with a plentiful lack of all those surface qualities that go to make up the man of the world, he was the direct antithesis of Pompey, "the pink of courtesy," who scratched his head with one finger, much to the disgust of the Roman populace, and of Antony, the brave, handsome "masker and reveller," who swayed the people in whatsoever manner he desired. There must have been some sterling qualities in the man whom a choice few loved and the many respected. It has always been a matter of regret that Shakespeare did not give us the speech of Cassius, that we might better judge touching his motives in the death of Cæsar. There is no doubt that, for the sake of dramatic effect, the real nobility of Cassius was

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somewhat subordinated to make the "general honest thought" of Brutus more apparent; for he, not Cæsar, is the real hero of the tragedy, and as such received all those touches Shakespeare knew so well how to bestow. Our idea of Cassius has been mostly derived from the oft-quoted words of Cæsar, "Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; he thinks too much," and "Let me have men about me that are fat." In reality those words were addressed to Brutus also. Mark Antony answered Cæsar by saying Cassius was "a Roman and well given;" and it is really absurd that he should be shorn of a moiety of his good name because the "mighty Julius" sighed "Would he were fatter." In truth it was not Cassius' "lean and hungry" looks that made Cæsar deem him dangerous; but he knew Cassius as a "great observer," one who could look "quite through the deeds of men," and was properly conscious of having given him grounds for discontent. The sight of the two friends together, doubtless, suggested to his mind that little episode of the lions at Malgara, and the shabby trick he had played him about the prætorship, when his fondness for Brutus got the better of his judgment. "At this time," says Plutarch, "Brutus had only the reputation of his honor and virtue to oppose to the many and gallant actions performed by Cassius against the Parthians," and Cæsar himself adds: "Cassius has the stronger plea, but we must let Brutus be first prætor." Yet Brutus says in Julius Cæsar, "To speak truth of Cæsar, I have not known when his affections sway'd more than his reason." Cassius had befriended Cæsar more than once, and doubtless felt keenly the injustice of having a younger and less experienced man preferred to himself. He may have been, therefore, somewhat biased by personal feelings, though we find this in "Antony and Cleopatra":

"What was it

That moved pale Cassius to conspire? And what
Made the all honour'd honest, Roman Brutus,
With the arm'd rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom,
To drench the Capitol, but that they would
Have one man but a man !”

Observe here that the motives of Brutus and Cassius are identical. Cassius dwells upon the same idea in speaking of Brutus :

"When could they say till now that talked of Rome,

That her wide walls encompass'd but one man!"

He also says he was "born free as Cæsar," and "That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure," and "Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius," and "I had as lief not be, as live to be in awe of such a thing as I myself”: that is, afraid to utter my own sentiments, bound like a madman is, to walk under the huge legs of this colossus that bestrides the world, and "peep about to find dishonorable graves." The basal thought of his mind was Freedom. He called the conspiracy an enterprise of "honorable dangerous consequences." He did not enter into it for mere personal aggrandizement, but to escape from a bondage his spirit could ill brook. His first words after the assassination were "Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement," and this lofty sentiment was echoed by Brutus in his cry of "Peace, freedom, and liberty." He also believed that "men at some time are masters of their fates," and being, as Cæsar said, a reader, a thinker, and a great observer, it followed, as a natural sequence, that the present struck him as the proper time to rid Rome of a tyrant. In personal action he was not below Cæsar, and with his bravery combined much shrewdness and tact-two things in which Brutus was sadly deficient-though, as found later on, rather than appear stubborn, but against his better judgment, he yielded to Brutus. "I think it not meet," says this wise soldier, that "Mark Antony should outlive Cæsar." But Brutus' heart prevailed and Antony was spared; his voice was raised in opposition to Antony speaking at Cæsar's funeral, knowing the power of his eloquence on the people; but again the blind faith of Brutus triumphed, and Antony incited a mob that drove the conspirators from Rome. On another occasion, when Brutus, speaking of Antony, says, "I know we shall have him well to friend," Cassius shrewdly replies, "I wish we may, but yet I have a mind that fears him much," and it is, doubtless, to counteract