have yet done. For our honour among foreign nations, as an ornament to
our English Household, what item is there that we would not surrender
rather than him? Consider now, if they asked us, Will you give up your
Indian Empire or your Shakespeare, you English; never have had any
Indian Empire, or never have had any Shakespeare? Really it were a
grave question. Official persons would answer doubtless in official
language; but we, for our part too, should not we be forced to answer:
Indian Empire, or no Indian Empire; we cannot do without Shakespeare!
Indian Empire will go, at any rate, some day; but this Shakespeare
does not go, he lasts for ever with us; we cannot give up our
Shakespeare!

Nay, apart from spiritualities; and considering him merely as a real,
marketable, tangibly-useful possession. England, before long, this
Island of ours, will hold but a small fraction of the English: in
America, in New Holland, east and west to the very Antipodes, there
will be a Saxondom covering great spaces of the Globe. And now, what
is it that can keep all these together into virtually one Nation, so
that they do not fall out and fight, but live at peace, in brotherlike
intercourse, helping one another? This is justly regarded as the
greatest practical problem, the thing all manner of sovereignties and
governments are here to accomplish: what is it that will accomplish
this? Acts of Parliament, administrative prime-ministers cannot.
America is parted from us, so far as Parliament could part it. Call it
not fantastic, for there is much reality in it: Here, I say, is an
English King, whom no time or chance, Parliament or combination of
Parliaments, can dethrone! This King Shakespeare, does not he shine,
in crowned sovereignty, over us all, as the noblest, gentlest, yet
strongest of rallying-signs; _in_destructible; really more valuable in
that point of view, than any other means or appliance whatsoever? We
can fancy him as radiant aloft over all the Nations of Englishmen, a
thousand years hence. From Paramatta, from New York, wheresoever,
under what sort of Parish-Constable soever, English men and women are,
they will say to one another: 'Yes, this Shakespeare is ours: we
produced him, we speak and think by him; we are of one blood and kind
with him.' The most common-sense politician, too, if he pleases, may
think of that.

Yes, truly, it is a great thing for a Nation that it get an articulate
voice; that it produce a man who wi