ty-fifth year, was married to Mr. John Hall, of Stratford, styled
"gentleman" in the parish register, and afterwards a practising
physician of good standing. The February following, Shakespeare became
a grandfather; Elizabeth, the first and only child of John and Susanna
Hall being baptized the 17th of that month. It is supposed, and
apparently with good reason, that Dr. Hall and his wife lived in the
same house with the Poet; she was evidently deep in her father's
heart; she is said to have had something of his mind and temper; the
house was large enough for them all; nor are there wanting signs of
entire affection between Mrs. Hall and her mother. Add to all this the
Poet's manifest fondness for children, and his gentle and affable
disposition, and we have the elements of a happy family and a cheerful
home, such as might well render a good-natured man impatient of the
stage. Of the moral and religious tenour of domestic life at New Place
we are not permitted to know: at a later period the Shakespeares seem
to have been not a little distinguished for works of piety and
charity.

On the 10th of February, 1616, the Poet saw his youngest daughter,
Judith, married to Thomas Quiney, of Stratford, vintner and
wine-merchant, whose father had been High-Bailiff of the town. From
the way Shakespeare mentions this daughter's marriage portion in his
will, which was made the 25th of March following, it is evident that
he gave his sanction to the match. Which may be cited as argument that
he had not himself experienced any such evils, as some have alleged,
from the woman being older than the man; for his daughter had four
years the start of her husband; she being at the time of her marriage
thirty-one, and he twenty-seven.

Shakespeare was still in the meridian of life. There was no special
cause, that we know of, why he might not live many years longer. It
were vain to conjecture what he would have done, had more years been
given him; possibly, instead of augmenting his legacy to us, he would
have recalled and suppressed more or less of what he had written as
our inheritance. For the last two or three years, at least he seems to
have left his pen unused; as if, his own ends once achieved, he set no
value on that mighty sceptre with which he since sways so large a
portion of mankind. That the motives and ambitions of authorship had
little to do in the generation of his works, is evident from the
serene carelessness with which he l