IS SHAKESPEARE DEAD? FROM MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY

or six of them, you could set them all down on a visiting-card. I

was disappointed. I had been meditating a biography, and was

grieved to find that there were no materials. I said as much, with

the tears running down. Mr. Barclay’s sympathy and compassion were

aroused, for he was a most kind and gentle-spirited man, and he

patted me on the head and cheered me up by saying there was a whole

vast ocean of materials! I can still feel the happy thrill which

these blessed words shot through me.

Then he began to bail out that ocean’s riches for my encouragement

and joy. Like this: it was “conjectured”–though not established-

-that Satan was originally an angel in heaven; that he fell; that

he rebelled, and brought on a war; that he was defeated, and

banished to perdition. Also, “we have reason to believe” that

later he did so-and-so; that “we are warranted in supposing” that

at a subsequent time he travelled extensively, seeking whom he

might devour; that a couple of centuries afterward, “as tradition

instructs us,” he took up the cruel trade of tempting people to

their ruin, with vast and fearful results; that by-and-by, “as the

probabilities seem to indicate,” he may have done certain things,

he might have done certain other things, he must have done still

other things.

And so on and so on. We set down the five known facts by

themselves, on a piece of paper, and numbered it “page 1”; then on

fifteen hundred other pieces of paper we set down the

“conjectures,” and “suppositions,” and “maybes,” and “perhapses,”

and “doubtlesses,” and “rumors,” and “guesses,” and

“probabilities,” and “likelihoods,” and “we are permitted to

thinks,” and “we are warranted in believings,” and “might have

beens,” and “could have beens,” and “must have beens,” and

“unquestionablys,” and “without a shadow of doubts”–and behold!

MATERIALS? Why, we had enough to build a biography of Shakespeare!

Yet he made me put away my pen; he would not let me write the

history of Satan. Why? Because, as he said, he had suspicions;

suspicions that my attitude in this matter was not reverent; and

that a person must be reverent when writing about the sacred

characters. He said any one who spoke flippantly of Satan would be

frowned upon by the religious world and also be brought to account.

I assured him, in earnest and sincere words, that he had wholly

misconceived my attitude; that I had the highest respect for Satan,

and that my reverence for him equalled, and possibly even exceeded,

that of any member of any church. I said it wounded me deeply to

perceive by his words that he thought I would make fun of Satan,

and deride him, laugh at him, scoff at him: whereas in truth I had

never thought of such a thing, but had only a warm desire to make

fun of those others and laugh at THEM. “What others?” “Why, the

Supposers, the Perhapsers, the Might-Have-Beeners, the Could-Have-

Beeners, the Must-Have-Beeners, the Without-a-Shadow-of-Doubters,

the We-are-Warranted-in-Believingers, and all that funny crop of

solemn architects who have taken a good solid foundation of five

indisputable and unimportant facts and built upon it a Conjectural

Satan thirty miles high.”

What did Mr. Barclay do then? Was he disarmed? Was he silenced?

No. He was shocked. He was so shocked that he visibly shuddered.

He said the Satanic Traditioners and Perhapsers and Conjecturers

were THEMSELVES sacred! As sacred as their work. So sacred that

whoso ventured to mock them or make fun of their work, could not

afterward enter any respectable house, even by the back door.

How true were his words, and how wise! How fortunate it would have

been for me if I had heeded them. But I was young, I was but seven

years of age, and vain, foolish, and anxious to attract attention.

I wrote the biography, and have never been in a respectable house

since.

CHAPTER III

How curious and interesting is the parallel–as far as poverty of

biographical details is concerned–between Satan and Shakespeare.

It is wonderful, it is unique, it stands quite alone, there is

nothing resembling it in history, nothing resembling it in romance,

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