rd-rate parts--his indifference to
reputation, and even his apparent aversion to be held in repute by his
contemporaries--his disappearance from London [18the seat and centre
of English histrionic art] so soon as he had realised a moderate
competency--and his retirement about the age of forty, for the remainder
of his days, to a life of obscurity in a small town in the midland
counties--all seem to unite in proving the shrinking nature of the man,
and his unconquerable shyness.

It is also probable that, besides being shy--and his shyness may, like
that of Byron, have been increased by his limp--Shakspeare did not
possess in any high degree the gift of hope. It is a remarkable
circumstance, that whilst the great dramatist has, in the course of
his writings, copiously illustrated all other gifts, affections, and
virtues, the passages are very rare in which Hope is mentioned, and then
it is usually in a desponding and despairing tone, as when he says:

"The miserable hath no other medicine, But only Hope."

Many of his sonnets breathe the spirit of despair and hopelessness. [187]
He laments his lameness; [188] apologizes for his profession as an actor;
[189] expresses his "fear of trust" in himself, and his hopeless, perhaps
misplaced, affection; [1810] anticipates a "coffin'd doom;" and utters his
profoundly pathetic cry "for restful death."

It might naturally be supposed that Shakspeare's profession of an actor,
and his repeated appearances in public, would speedily overcome his
shyness, did such exist. But inborn shyness, when strong, is not so
easily conquered. [1811] Who could have believed that the late Charles
Mathews, who entertained crowded houses night after night, was naturally
one of the shyest of men? He would even make long circuits [18lame though
he was] along the byelanes of London to avoid recognition. His wife says
of him, that he looked "sheepish" and confused if recognised; and that
his eyes would fall, and his colour would mount, if he heard his name
even whispered in passing along the streets. [1812]

Nor would it at first sight have been supposed that Lord Byron was
affected with shyness, and yet he was a victim to it; his biographer
relating that, while on a visit to Mrs. Pigot, at Southwell, when he saw
strangers approaching, he would instantly jump out of the window, and
escape on to the lawn to avoid them.

But a still more recent and striking instance is that of the late
Archbishop