The above shows how indispensable to the interests of Christian doctrine Shakespeare's approval of them had come to be regarded by the later Christians. His was too great and shining a name not to have it listed on their side, and so was invented "a tender and delicate reserve" on the part of the poet, to explain his open protests against their creeds, which they mildly call his failure to take "notice" of them.

Others, again, have written lengthy arguments to prove that the immortal poet was a devout Catholic, an orthodox Calvanist, a loyal Anglican, and so forth. The man who in his lifetime was associated with Marlowe and his school, and who was vehemently denounced by the exponents of religion in that day—the Puritans—is today hailed by the descendants of these same Puritans as the honor and glory of their faith. But this change of heart is a purely sentimental one. It is, as already intimated, the increasing eclat of Shakespeare's name and fame which has made him desirable as a coreligionist. Already, even Thomas Paine is being claimed as a fellow-believer. Mr. Brooke Hereford writes that if he, the author of the Age of Reason, were living now, he would join the Unitarian Church. It is not, however, by consulting our own necessities that we find out the religion of another. We may all wish that Shakespeare believed just as we do, and that he was upon our side of the question, but could our wish be any evidence in a matter of this kind?

The real attitude of Shakespeare toward revealed religion will be learned by observing, as we stated above, the frequency and consistency with which certain expressions appear and reappear in his works. An author's intimate beliefs may be ascertained by observing the prevailing mood of his mind, the atmosphere his characters breathe in, and the more or less permanent moulds into which his thoughts flow.

"That is alone to be called a man's opinion," writes Shaftesbury, "which is, of any other, the most habitual to him, and occurs upon most occasions." To the same effect are the words of Sir Bulwer Lytton, quoted by W. J. Birch in his Philosophy of Shakespeare: "In the mind of man there is always a resemblance to his works. His heroes may not be like himself, but they are like certain qualities which belong to him. The sentiments he utters are his at the moment; if you find them predominate in all his works, they predominate in his mind."

We may illustrate the truth of the above remark by an example from Moliere, the "Shakespeare of France," as he has often been called. In a conversation between a beggar and a citizen, the beggar is asked what he considers the object of life.

"To pray God for the good people who give me alms,"

he answers.

"Ah, you pass your time in praying to God! In that case you ought to be very much at your ease," says the philosopher citizen.

"Alas! sir," replies the beggar, "I often have not what to
eat."

"That can not be," protests the citizen, "God would not