much of their ancient character by modern improvements. An old worm-eaten oaken desk, which tradition affirms to have been that at which Shakspeare sat, has been preserved, and is the only relic of the great school-boy who puzzled over his lessons and played mischief within the walls. In the hall below the players, when they came, strutted their brief hour; and there probably the poet learned the rudiments of that art which he ennobled and adorned.

The transition from Shakspeare's school-boy plays to his youthful roysterings is not difficult. All about, for miles round, are tales of his loves, his drinking bouts, and mischievous escapades. His deer-stealing adventure is perhaps the best known. Charlecote House, the scene of the incident, is a stately old place, erected by Sir Thomas Lucy in the first year of the reign of Elizabeth. It is built of brick, with stone quoins, and consists of a centre and two wings, flanked with four octagonal turrets. The principal front, in which is a stone porch elaborately ornamented, remains nearly in its ancient state; and the grand outer gate-house, standing at a short distance before it, presents a fine and perfect specimen of the style of architecture which prevailed in the latter part of the sixteenth century. It looks very much as it did in the poet's day. The apartments in the interior of the mansion are numerous, but generally are not remarkable. The great hall, however, is a very noble apartment. There are some rare and valuable works by the old masters adorning the walls. The Lucy family is of great antiquity; but the most celebrated of them all is the Sir Thomas by whom Charlecote House was erected. It was this gentleman, tradition tells, whose deer Shakspeare stole, against whom the poet penned satirical verses, whose threats of legal vengeance compelled the youth to quit his home. in Stratford, and seek new fortunes in the metropolis. He it was, moreover, who sat for the character of "Justice Shallow." Whether the legend be true or no Sir Thomas stands "damned to immortal fame" in lines more imperishable than the noble monument to his memory which graces the chancel of Charlecote Church, at a short distance from the mansion. The old Vicarage, venerable for its antiquity, and grandly picturesque, has been swept away, and exists only in De Wint's charming picture. A similar fate has befallen the old bridge at Hampton Lucy, and that, too, has only been preserved by the pencil of De Wint.

Another scene in the poet's life carries us to Shottery, and to Anne Hathaway's cottage, where Shakspeare wooed and won his bride. In the midst of charming rural scenery the famous house still stands. It is an old half-timbered dwelling, with some antique furniture; a bedstead, bed linen, ancient chairs; but no remains either of the poet or his wife, who left that dwelling together on a dull November morning in 1582, and were made one. In two years after Shakspeare quitted Stratford for London, returning to it "at least once every year," until he made it his home.

That home was New Place, which had been originally erected by Sir Hugh Clopton in the time of Henry VII. Shakspeare purchased the property in 1597, repaired and remodelled it, and gave it New Place for a name. Here the poet died in 1616. No traces of the mansion remain. It fell into the hands of a relative of the Clopton family, and was rased to the ground, the garden destroyed, and the mulberry tree, which a legend tells that Shakspeare planted with his own hands, split up for firewood. Broken stones, with faded carving, and bits of oaken wainscoting are all that remain of Shakspeare's home. In 1861 New Place and its garden was offered for sale for building purposes; but chiefly through the exertions of Mr. J. O. Halliwell a sum of £1,500 was raised in a day or two, and in October in that year the property was purchased, to be vested in the corporation of Stratford in trust for the nation. At the same time a fund was commenced for the purchase of Ann Hathaway's cottage, and other places connected with memories of the poet.

The Church in which his dust reposes is but a short distance off. It is a solemn, silent place, the centre of a quiet churchyard, where "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," shaded by lime trees, and washed by the Avon which ripples beside its mossy old walls. The church, formerly collegiate, is a large and venerable cruciform structure, consisting of a nave, with side aisles, a transept, and a chancel, with a tower rising gracefully from the centre of the cross. In the chancel is the poet's grave and monument. There is his bust, placed under an arch, and entablature upon the wall. Beneath the cushion on which the poet is writing is inscribed a Latin distich, and the following English lines: