Many years ago, when, not having bestowed a thought upon the subject, I was, naturally, of the orthodox Stratfordian faith, and knew nothing of the Baconian “heresy” except the time-honoured joke that “Shakespeare” was not written by Shakespeare, but by another gentleman of the same name (which I thought “devilish funny”) I happened to be reading Bacon’s Essay on Gardens. This passage at once arrested my attention: “In April follow, the double violet; the wall-flower; the stock-gilliflower; the cowslip; flower-de-luces, and lillies of all natures.” Why, thought I, those last words are almost identical with some used by Perdita at the conclusion of her lovely catalogue of flowers! I turned to the Winter’s Tale (IV. 4) and there read:

For at least half a minute I thought, in my innocence, that I had made a discovery! But reflection of course, told me that so startling a parallelism must have been observed by hundreds before me. “Lillies of all kinds,” says Shakespeare; “lillies of all natures,” says Bacon; and each specifies “the flower-de-luce” as one of them! Surely, I said to myself, this is no mere coincidence! Surely one of these writers must have, consciously or unconsciously, taken the words from the other! On closer inspection, too, I found a remarkable resemblance between the two lists of flowers, Bacon’s and Shakespeare’s; that they are in fact substantially the same. Did then Shakspere borrow from Bacon? Very possibly, I thought; but on investigation I found that the Essay on Gardens was first printed in 1625, nine years after player Shakspere’s death. Well, then, did Bacon borrow from Shakspere in this instance? Few, I think, would be inclined to adopt that hypothesis. The author of the Essay had made a life-long study of gardens, and, as Mr. James Spedding writes (though I did not discover this till years afterwards), “it is not probable that Bacon would have anything to learn of William Shakespeare [i.e., Shakspere of Stratford] concerning the science of gardening.” “Moreover,” says the same writer, “the scene in Winter’s Tale where Perdita presents the guests with flowers ... has some expressions which, if the Essay had been printed somewhat earlier, would have made me suspect that Shakespeare had been reading it!”[76] Yes, indeed, and these “expressions,” almost identical in both, have made some persons “suspect” that the same pen wrote both the Essay and the Scene.

There are, as all those who have studied the two authors are aware, many other striking coincidences to be found in the writings of Shakespeare and Bacon. In this chapter I propose to consider some of them only, namely those which, nearly twenty years ago, formed the subject of a controversy between the late Judge Webb, and the late Professor Dowden.

In the year 1902 the late Judge Webb, then Regius Professor of Laws, and Public Orator in the University of Dublin, published a book which he called The Mystery of William Shakespeare.

The eighth chapter of that work treats “Of Shakespeare as a Man of Science,” and here the learned Judge put forward a number of parallelisms taken from Shakespeare’s plays and Bacon’s works (mainly from the Natural History, which was published eleven years after the death of Shakspere of Stratford), in order to show that “the scientific opinions of Shakespeare so completely coincide with those of Bacon that we must regard the two philosophers as one in their philosophy, however reluctant we may be to recognize them as actually one.”

To this the late Professor Dowden replied, in The National Review of July, 1902, and brought forward an immense amount of learning to show that these coincidences really prove nothing, because “all which Dr. Webb regards as proper to Shakespeare and Bacon was, in fact, the common knowledge or common error of the time.” Whereunto the Judge, in a brief rejoinder (National Review, August, 1902), intimated that all he was concerned with was “the common knowledge and common error of Shakespeare and Bacon,” his case being that in matters of science these two, as a fact, show an extremely close agreement. The question for the reader, therefore, is whether or not that agreement is so remarkable that something more than “the common knowledge or common error of the time” is required to explain it.

Here the matter has been left, but I think it may be of interest to consider once more the points at issue between these two learned disputants. Let me premise that I do not write as a “Baconian.” The hypothesis that Bacon was the author of the plays of Shakespeare, or some of them, or some parts of them, may be mere “madhouse chatter,” as Sir Sidney Lee has styled it, or we may be content with more moderate language, and merely say that the hypothesis is “not proven.” I leave that vexata quÆstio on one side. But, whatever may be our opinion with regard to it, it must, I think, be admitted that some of the “parallelisms,” or “coincidences,” between Bacon and Shakespeare are really very remarkable, and the controversy between Judge Webb and Professor Dowden, which I here pass under review, has not, as it seems to me, so conclusively explained their existence as to leave nothing further for the consideration of an impartial critic.

Let me take an example. Bacon in his Sylva Sylvarum, or Natural History[77] (Cent. I, p. 98), speaks of “the spirits or pneumaticals that are in all tangible bodies,” and which, he says, “are scarce known.” They are not, he tells us, as some suppose, virtues and qualities of the tangible parts which “men see,” but “they are things by themselves,” i.e., entities. And again (Cent. VII, 601), he says, “all bodies have spirits, and pneumatical parts within them,” and he goes on to point out the differences between the “spirits” in animate, and those in inanimate things. Further on (Cent. VII, 693), Bacon writes: “It hath been observed by the ancients that much use of Venus doth dim the sight,” and the cause of this, he says, “is the expense of spirits.” Now in Sonnet 129 Shakespeare writes:

Here we certainly seem to have a remarkable agreement between Shakespeare and Bacon. Both use the very same expression “the expense of spirit” and (which constitutes the real strength of the parallel) both use it in exactly the same application. What is Professor Dowden’s explanation? He says that “the mediÆval theory of ‘spirits’ will be found in the EncyclopÆdia of Bartholomew Anglicus on the Properties of Things,” which he says was “a book of wide influence.” He says further: “The popular opinions of Shakespeare’s time respecting ‘spirits’ may be read in Bright’s Treatise of Melancholy, 1586, and Burton’s Anatomy, 1621, and in many another volume.... Bright, in his Melancholy, seems almost to anticipate the theory of Bacon, and possibly he was himself influenced by Paracelsus.” As to the expression “expense of spirit,” he says it may be found in this book of Bright’s (pp. 62, 237, and 244), and in Donne’s Progress of the Soul. I do not understand the Professor to suggest that the Stratford player had consulted these works (Burton, of course, is out of the question) for he writes: “The language of Shakespeare is popular, and connected probably neither with what Bright nor what Bacon wrote, but if a theory be required, it can be found as easily in a volume which Shakespeare might have read, as in a volume published after his death.” Bacon, however, we may say with confidence, knew these books, and had, in all probability, read them. The Professor, for instance, refers to Paracelsus, and subsequently, on another point, to Scaliger. Bacon, as we know, was familiar with both these writers, and makes reference to them (see, for instance, Natural History, Cent. IV, 354, and Cent. VII, 694), whereas it will, I suppose, hardly be suggested that the player had sought inspiration in the works of these scholars.

The first question, then, which suggests itself is this. Are we to conclude, because there is a theory of “spirits” (which Bacon says “are scarce known”) to be found in Bartholomew Anglicus, and Bright, and Paracelsus, that it was a matter of “popular” knowledge, a subject with which Shakspere of Stratford, as well as the philosopher of Gorhambury, would have been likely to be familiar? This question seems to me a very doubtful one, but if it is to be answered in the affirmative, then we have to ask: Is this assumed popular knowledge, or popular error, sufficient to account for the use by both Shakespeare and Bacon of exactly the same expression in exactly the same collocation? And in considering this question we must remember that the evidence is cumulative, i.e., this coincidence is not a solitary instance, but only one of many, and it is but fair, if we wish to come to a just decision, that all of them should be considered together.

But how far is it true, as Professor Dowden alleges it to be, that “Bright in his Melancholy seems almost to anticipate the theory of Bacon?” The book is a scarce one. There is no copy in the London Library. However I have taken the trouble to examine it at the British Museum. Professor Dowden refers to pages 62, 237, and 244. In the edition which I examined, that of 1586, there is no reference to the “expense of spirits” at p. 237. Neither is there at p. 62. On page 63, however, I find the following. The author, one Timothy Bright, “Doctor of Phisicke,” is speaking of strong affections of the mind, and he says: “If it holde on long and release not, the nourishment will also faile, the increase of the body diminish, and the flower of beautie fade, and finally death take his fatall hold; which commeth to passe, not onely by expence of spirit, but by leaving destitute the parts, whereby declining to decay, they become at length unmeete for the entertainment of so noble an inhabitant as the soule,” etc. On p. 244 we read: “Now as all contention of the mind is to be intermitted, so especially that whereto the melancholicke person most hath given himself before the passion is chiefly to be eschued, for the recoverie of former estate and restoring the depraved conceit and fearefull affection. For there, if the affection of liking go withal, both hart and braine do over prodigally spend their spirite and with them the subtilest parts of the naturall iuyce [juice] and humours of the bodie. If of mislike and the thing be by forcible constraint layd on, the distracting of the mind, from the promptness of affection, breedeth such an agonie in our nature that thereon riseth also great expence of spirit, and of the most rare and subtile humours of our bodies, which are as it were the seate of our naturall heate,” etc.

Now in both these passages we find, indeed, the expression the “expense of spirit,” but, except for that, it appears that they can hardly be cited as parallel passages with those of either Bacon or Shakespeare. It is not alleged that this expression is peculiar to these two writers—assuming the duality. The parallelism consists in this, that they both use the words in connection with what Bacon terms “the use of Venus.” I cannot see that the passages in Bright’s treatise, when they are carefully examined, make this parallelism at all less remarkable.

The Professor further tells us that the expression “expense of spirits” may be found in Donne’s Progress of the Soul[78] Stanza VI. I do not find it in that stanza, but in Stanza V the following occurs. The poet prays that he may be free,

And in Stanza XXI are the words quoted by Professor Dowden, concerning the sparrow:

This indeed proves, what nobody has ever denied, viz., that the expression “to spend the spirit” is not confined among writers of the Elizabethan age to Bacon and Shakespeare. To what extent it detracts from the force of the coincidence on which Judge Webb has laid stress, I must leave it to the reader to determine. The learned Judge laughs at the idea that citations from Bright’s Treatise of Melancholy and Donne’s Progress of the Soul, are proof that the expression was one in common use.

There is another example of agreement between Bacon and Shakespeare in connection with this theory of “spirits.” Jessica says (Merchant of Venice, V. 1):

To which Lorenzo replies:

Bacon writes (Natural Hist. Cent. VIII, 745): “Some noises help sleep; as the blowing of the wind, the trickling of water, humming of bees, soft singing, reading, etc. The cause is for that they move in the spirits a gentle attention.”

Upon this Professor Dowden tells us that Bright talks of music “alluring the spirites,” while “Burton quotes from Lemnius, who declares that music not only affects the ears, ‘but the very arteries, the vital and animal spirits,’ and, again from Scaliger, who explains its power as due to the fact that it plays upon ‘the spirits about the heart,’ whereupon Burton, like Shakespeare’s Lorenzo, proceeds to speak of the influence of music upon beasts, and like Lorenzo, cites the tale of Orpheus.” But Burton’s Anatomy was not published till 1621, about five years after Shakspere’s death, and we can hardly suppose that the player delved into “Lemnius” or “Scaliger!” But we shall doubtless be told that, whether Shakspere had read these books or not, the fact that Bright speaks of music alluring the spirits shows that this was a common expression, and that Lorenzo’s words are to be referred to “the common knowledge or the common error of the time.” But Lorenzo says, “your spirits are attentive,” and Bacon speaks of “a gentle attention” of the spirits. I do not see this expression in Bright, or Lemnius, or Scaliger, as quoted by Professor Dowden. Here, then, we have two expressions, “the expense of spirits” in connection with Venus, and “the attention of spirits” in connection with music, both in Shakespeare and Bacon. It will be for every reader who is interested in the question, taking these coincidences with many others of a similar character, to decide whether “the common knowledge of the time” affords a sufficient explanation. And let him remember two things—first, that it is, of course, impossible to find an agreement between Shakespeare and Bacon on a subject of which they two alone (if two they were) had exclusive knowledge, and secondly that though one, or two, or three threads may not suffice to bear a weight, a great many threads combined into a cord may do so. At any rate, it may be said of these two:

Judge Webb, of course, refers to the well-known fact that both Shakespeare and Bacon held similar views on the relationship of Art to nature, both holding that art was not something different from nature, but a part of nature. All will remember the dialogue between Perdita and Polixenes in the Winter’s Tale:

It certainly seems remarkable that the King of Bohemia should lecture the country girl on the essential identity of nature and art. It is not exactly what we should have expected. It is somewhat strange, too, to find Bacon waxing eloquent on the same subject, and to the same effect. Take the following from the De Augmentis (Lib. II, Cap. ii.): “Libenter autem historiam artium, ut historiÆ naturalis speciem, constituimus: quia inveteravit prorsus opinio, ac si aliud quippiam esset ars a natura, artificialia a naturalibus.... Sed et illabitur etiam animis hominum aliud subtilius malum; nempe, ut ars censeatur solummodo tanquam additamentum quoddam, naturÆ, cujus scilicet ea sit vis, ut naturam, sane, vel inchoatam perficere, vel in deterius vergentem emendare, vel impeditam liberare; minime vero penitus vertere, transmutare, aut in imis concutere possit: quod ipsum rebus humanis prÆproperam desperationem intulit.”

That is to say, “we very willingly treat the history of art as a form of natural history; for an opinion has long been prevalent that art is something different from nature—things artificial from things natural.... There is likewise another and more subtle error which has crept into the human mind, namely, that of considering art as merely an assistant[79] to nature, having the power indeed to finish what nature has begun, to correct her when lapsing into error, or to set her free when in bondage, but by no means to change, transmute, or fundamentally alter nature. And this has bred a premature despair in human enterprises.” He goes on to point out that, on the contrary, there is no essential difference between art and nature, things artificial being simply things natural as affected by human agency, which is a part of nature, so that in the words of Shakespeare, “the art itself is nature.”[80]

Here it may be worth while to point out that these words are not to be found in the English Advancement of Learning, first printed in 1605, but are found in the enlarged Latin version made under Bacon’s supervision, and published in 1623, the very year in which the Winter’s Tale also first saw the light in print, to wit in the First Folio. The play may, no doubt, have been written some ten years before that, but whether in its earlier form it contained all this not very appropriate philosophy concerning art and nature, it is of course impossible to say. It is said to have been written about 1611, and we find Bacon writing about the same time very much to the same effect as above quoted.[81]

Artificial selection is, therefore, after all only a form and part of natural selection, the differentia being that it is human agency which brings it into play. And that Bacon had, by one of his luminous intuitions, which are really quite as remarkable as his inductive philosophy, a foreshadowing of the theory of evolution is undeniable, for we have it plainly stated in his Natural History (Cent. VI, 525): “This work of the transmutation of plants one into another is inter magnalia naturÆ; for the transmutation of species is, in vulgar philosophy, pronounced impossible, and certainly it is a thing of difficulty, and requireth deep search into nature; but seeing there appear some manifest instances of it, the opinion of impossibility is to be rejected, and the means thereof to be found out.”[82]

As to the “streaked gillivors, which some call nature’s bastards,” we find that Bacon has much to say concerning experiments in the colouration and variation of these gillyflowers. In the Natural History (Cent. VI, 506), he writes: “Amongst curiosities I shall place coloration, though it be somewhat better: for beauty in flowers is their pre-eminence. It is observed by some that gillyflowers ... that are coloured, if they be neglected, and neither watered, nor new molded, nor transplanted, will turn white.” Subsequently (510) we read: “Take gillyflower seed, of one kind of gillyflower, as of the clove gillyflower, which is the most common, and sow it, and there will come up gillyflowers some of one colour and some of another,” etc. Then, in 513, we come to the application of “art” to these flowers: “It is a curiosity also to make flowers double, which is effected by often removing them into new earth.... Inquire also whether inoculating of flowers, as stock-gillyflowers ... doth not make them double.”

At any rate it must, I think, be admitted that we have here some very remarkable resemblances between Bacon and Shakespeare. First we have, as mentioned in the opening of this chapter, an almost complete verbal agreement, “lillies of all kinds, the flower-de-luce being one,” and “flower-de-luces and lillies of all natures”; then we have two very similar lists of flowers according to the seasons, whether of the year, or of human life; then we have a complete and, I think extraordinary agreement, as to the philosophy of “nature” and “art”—to wit, that the two are essentially one, since art is but part of nature. Moreover it seems that both writers, if two there were, were writing these things just about the same time. And finally we find that both writers are much concerned with the colours and varieties of “streaked gillyvors” or “stock-gillyvors.”[83]

What does Professor Dowden say to this? He quotes William Harrison’s Description of England: “How art also helpeth nature in the dailie colouring, dubling, and enlarging the proportion of our floures, it is incredible, to report,” etc. But Harrison does not say, as Shakespeare and Bacon say, that the art is part of nature (“The art itself is nature”). He merely speaks of art as an additamentum quoddam naturÆ, which is just the proposition that Bacon (and Shakespeare, by implication) condemns as fallacious. Professor Dowden then tells us that this thought as to art and nature was prominent in the teaching of Paracelsus whom Bacon refuses to honour. But whether or not Bacon refuses to honour Paracelsus he was, at any rate, familiar with him, and makes frequent mention of him. So again as to Pliny, whom the Professor appeals to in this matter. Bacon cites him in the very passage of the De Augmentis (Lib. II, Cap. ii), part of which I have quoted. It seems rather remarkable that the authors to whom the Professor makes his appeal should be, so frequently, writers such as Pliny, and Paracelsus, and Scaliger who certainly were well known to Bacon. I doubt if the Stratford player had included these in his (assumed) omnivorous reading; nor do I think “the common knowledge and common error of the time” explain these coincidences of thought and expression in an altogether satisfactory way. The lines,