"The most favourite object of curiosity, however, is Shakspere's chair. It stands in the chimney-nook of a small gloomy chamber, just behind what was his father's shop. Here he may many a time have sat when a boy, watching the slowly-revolving spit with all the longing of an urchin; or of an evening, listening to the crones and gossips of Stratford, dealing forth churchyard tales and legendary anecdotes of the troublesome times of England. In this chair it is the custom for every one that visits the house to sit: whether this is done with the hope of imbibing any of the inspiration of the bard I am at a loss to say; I merely mention the fact; and mine hostess privately assured me, that though built of solid oak, such was the present zeal of devotees, that the chair had to be new-bottomed at least once in three years. It is worthy of notice also, in the history of this extraordinary chair, that it partakes something of the volatile nature of the Santa Casa of Loretto, or the flying chair of the Arabian enchanter; for though sold some years since to a northern princess, yet, strange to tell, it has found its way back again to the old chimney-corner.”

Of the sort of Shaksperian relics exhibited in the house at this time he gives an amusing list. "There was the shattered stock of the very matchlock with which Shakspere shot the deer, on his poaching exploit; there, too, was his tobacco-box, which proves that he was a rival smoker of Sir Walter Raleigh; the sword also with which he played Hamlet; and the identical lanthorn with which Friar Laurence discovered Romeo and Juliet. There was an ample supply also of Shakspere's mulberry-tree, which seems to have as extraordinary powers of self-multiplication as the wood of the true cross, of which there is enough extant to build a ship of the line."

Opposite the fireplace in the kitchen is a window, and beside this is the stair which leads into the room in which the Poet was born. It is a low-roofed apartment, receiving its only

light from the large window in front. The same huge beams project from the plastered walls, one of considerable solidity crossing the ceiling. The fireplace projects close to the door which leads into the room; an immense beam of oak forms the mantel-tree; a large piece is cut out of one corner, the work of an enthusiastic young lady—so said the late proprietress, who declares that she was kept in conversation below by the lady's female friend while the act was done. She told many similar stories of Shaksperian enthusiasm, and never left the room or lost sight of any one after this daring trick. To be permitted to sleep a night in the room, she stated, was a very ordinary request made to her, which she occasionally gratified; while such fits of enthusiasm as bursting into tears, or falling down and kissing the floor, were ordinary matters, scarcely worth her noticing.

Of the old furniture in this room, and that throughout the house, it may be hardly necessary to remark, that it has no absolute connexion with Shakspere. A portrait of Shakspere, on panel, a poor performance, was brought from the White Lion Inn, a few doors from this house.

In this room the visitor, if he pleases, may sign his name in the book kept for that purpose. About 1815, the conductors of the public library at Stratford gave to Mrs. Hornby, the then proprietress of the house, a book for that purpose, the walls and windows having been covered before. Among many hundreds of names of persons of all grades and countries, occur those of Byron, Scott, and Washington Irving, the latter three times. Many are accompanied by expressions of feeling, others by stanzas and attempts at poetry, which have been thus commented upon by one among the number:

"Ah Shakspeare, when we read the votive scrawls

With which well-meaning folks deface these walls;

And while we seek in vain some lucky hit,

Amidst the lines whose nonsense nonsense smothers,

We find, unlike thy Falstaff in his wit,

Thou art not here the cause of wit in others."

The most curious feature of the room is the myriad of pencilled and inked autographs which cover walls, windows, and ceiling, and which cross and recross each other occasionally, so closely written, and so continuous, that it gives the walls the appearance of being covered with fine spider-web. Irving, speaking of the house, says: "The walls of its squalid chambers are covered with names and inscriptions in every language, by pilgrims of all nations, ranks, and conditions, from the prince. to the peasant, and present a simple but striking instance of the spontaneous and universal homage of mankind to the great Poet of Nature." Books for the entry of names are now kept.

In the adjoining public-house, when Ireland visited it in 1792, was a square of glass upon which was painted the arms of the Merchants of the Wool Staple, which he considered to be conclusive evidence of the trade of Shakspere's father, who by some authors was said to have been a dealer in wool. Aubrey assures us he was a butcher. Mr. Knight has clearly pointed out the likely origin of both stories, in the custom of landed proprietors, like John Shakspere, selling their own cattle and wool. The glass was brought here from the Guild Chapel! It therefore has no connexion with Shakspere.

In a lower room of the public-house, Ireland also saw "a curious ancient monument over the chimney, relieved in plaster, which from the date, 1606, that was originally marked on it, was probably put up at the time, and possibly by the Poet himself. In 1759 it was repaired and painted in a variety of colours by the old Mr. Thomas Harte before-mentioned." Upon the scroll over the figures was inscribed, 'Samuel xvii. A.D. 1606;' and