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COPYRIGHT NINETEEN THIRTEEN 
 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 
 
 What Shakespeare 
 
 
 
 Knew About 
 
 
 
 Life Assurance 
 
 
 
 "^^ 
 
 
 
 \y f^ 
 
 
 
 By 
 
 
 
 JNO. I. D. BRISTOL 
 
 
 
 4. 
 
 
 
 WRITTEN AT STRATFOR.D-OKAVON, lUNE, 1895 
 
 REVISED, WITH ADDITIONS, NEW YORK CITY 
 
 SEPTEMBEBv, 1913 
 
 
 (ALL 
 
 QUOTATIONS ARE SHAKESPEARE 
 
 AN) 
 
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 (g-CI,A35ai!'.U 
 

 What Shakespeare Knew 
 About Life Assurance 
 
 THE INTRODUCTION 
 
 Efftilgent orb of intellectual light, whose 
 "Sacred radiance" doth hold its "royal court" 
 In all the thought "spangled starlight sheen" of mental 
 
 space, 
 And by whose "bright radiance and collateral light" 
 All lesser stars do shine — Great Shakespeare, 
 To Thee, we sing our "endless praise!" 
 
 All whose emotions are swayed by the grander factors 
 Of human existence look to Thee for thought crystals 
 Of speech. Expression were "void and empty" 
 Without Thee, and himian communication "dull of 
 Tongue, and dwarfish." 
 
 Vacuous was the mental world, and slow 
 The progress of man, till Thy immortal analysis 
 Of "his mental and his active parts" did show 
 "In Nature's infinite book" 
 
 "A combination and a form, indeed. 
 Where every God did seem to set his seal, 
 To give the world assurance of a man;" 
 And from the countless survivals of all the unrecorded 
 
 past 
 Had Evolution created men of "thine age," 
 
O, Immortal Bard, but a thousandth part Hke Thee, 
 The protective genius of "modest Assurance" would, 
 "These three hundred years" agone, have been nurtured 
 Into life and being by Thy appeals to Right, 
 To "Love, Charity, Obedience and True Duty." 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE MORTALITY TABLE 
 
 Not in actuarial figtires, "heavy, dull and slow," 
 That tell of deaths by number and the "brief span" 
 Of "feverous life" allotted to mankind, O, Shakespeare, 
 Was Thy Mortality Table inscribed, for Thou hast 
 Made Macbeth, "with bated breath," to say: 
 
 "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. 
 Creeps in this petty pace from day to day 
 To the last syllable of recorded time. 
 And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
 The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! 
 Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player 
 That struts and frets his hour upon the stage 
 And then is heard no more." 
 In never ending beats the pendulimi of Eternity 
 Doth swing. 
 
 With every measured second the beating of an aching 
 Heart doth cease; the strings of emotion in some 
 "Wretched soul bruised with adversity " are rent in twain ; 
 And some mind, "weary and old with service," 
 Lays down its sceptre of thought upon Mentality's 
 Vacant throne. 
 
 Every passing minute its seven and sixty deaths 
 Doth count; each dying day within its fold doth gather 
 The "tide of tears" and grief for seven 
 And ninety thousand who wake no more; 
 
And with each New Year's bell that measures 
 The "glad and sorry seasons" and tolls for the 
 Added drop from Time's shoreless ocean to 
 Eternity's waste of waters, five and thirty millions in 
 "Tender youth" and "homely age," the prattling child, 
 The boy and maid, and men in prime and second 
 Childhood, — all who make up great Shakespeare's Seven 
 Ages — pass along the darkened road to the 
 Silent tomb of the eternal Past, for 
 "All that lives must die, 
 Passing through Nature to Eternity." 
 
 THE APPEAL OF ASSURANCE 
 
 To the living millions, the happy to-morrows 
 Ever remain. From these Assurance appeals, for 
 A daily mite in liquidation of debts unpaid 
 And duties unfulfilled, for that poor player, who, 
 All too soon, has fretted his brief hour 
 Upon the active stage of life and time, 
 In the "wide and universal theatre" of this 
 "Brave world." 
 
 From out the long and fading vista of the Past, 
 "Renowned Rome" that from her seven hills waved 
 The "high sceptre" of "absolute power" o'er all 
 "The infected world," rises as a dreamlike 
 Vision of might and "royal majesty" before me. 
 
 The "wild waves" of passion, tumult and rage 
 Are playing upon the Roman mind as billows 
 Upon the sea. The multitude but deign 
 To hear Antony's tribute to him he feared, 
 Honored and loved. Upon unwilling ears and 
 "The empty, vast and wandering air," whose every 
 " Contagious breath " is warlike with rebellious patriotism, 
 
These "fainting words" of heart-broken grief that 
 "Whispers the o'erfraught heart," are falling: 
 
 "O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? 
 
 Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 
 
 Shrunk to this little measure? 
 
 But yesterday the word of Caesar might 
 
 Have stood against the world; and now lies he 
 there, 
 
 And none so poor to do him reverence." 
 We, who plead the cause of Assurance and Protection, 
 And by our life work create the competencies of 
 Our "sad-hearted men, much overgone with care," 
 Are the Mark Antonys of the present. 
 
 The ninety and seven of every hundred toiling men 
 Whose life endeavors for estate and "glorious fame" 
 Have shrunk to naught, from neglect of 
 "The way which promises Assurance," are 
 The modem Caesars whom Failiu-e and "cruel Fate" 
 Do conspire to assassinate. 
 
 The venturesome marts of trade; the busy localities 
 Of loom and shuttle; the mighty mechanisms 
 That toy with metals and shape great 
 Natiure's crude woods to forms of beauty; 
 
 "The choice and master spirits of this age," 
 Who, with 
 
 "The singing masons building roofs of gold," 
 Plan the towering domes of buildings massive, and 
 The bridges' slender spans that o'erleap the rivers 
 In their curves of beauty; the inventor's penetrating 
 Mind, that of great 
 
 "Jove's lightnings, the precursors 
 
 O' the dreadful thunder claps," 
 A plaything makes; and all Life's 
 Bustling avenues of industry and courage creative. 
 
Form "the very mould and frame" of our modem Rome, 
 That from Prosperity's uncountable " reverberate hills " 
 
 of civilization, 
 Doth wave her sceptre of Progress o'er all 
 The enlightened world. 
 
 How like Imperial Caesar doth many a "royal 
 merchant" die! 
 In life, the creator of "mighty enterprises" 
 That girt the world in their hopeful arms; whose 
 "Royal, good and gallant" ships, the white-winged 
 
 shuttles in 
 The earth-embracing loom of commerce, oscillate from 
 Continent to continent; whose "honour'd name" has 
 
 "grown so great" 
 As to couple with mighty deeds financial; 
 Who is 
 
 "The foremost man of all this world" 
 In life; in "the cruel pangs of death," 
 But a "bleeding piece of earth." How many 
 Vast estates like imto his have dwindled away 
 'Neath Debt's importunate call, the hungry creditor, and 
 ' ' The law's delay !' ' How many vast enterprises sustained 
 By the "natural magic" of his confidence-inspiring 
 Name, have left but a heritage of loss and 
 Failure, when the founder, like Mighty Caesar, 
 Lies low in that forum of waning greatness 
 That he alone could inspire and create! 
 
 Unlike in nations old and staid, in all 
 Columbia's wide domain bright-eyed Hope and 
 Sturdy Enterprise go, hand in hand, toward the 
 Goal of accomplishment that waits upon the undertaking. 
 Failtire's grave contingencies doth hedge us 'round about. 
 As "the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples 
 Of a king;" and yet, we hopeful say: 
 
 "If money go before, all ways do open lie." 
 
To Columbia's hopeful sons doth Assiu^ance offer 
 "A liberal dower" without defrayment, and at usance 
 So low that Usury's voice is hushed and still. 
 To us of this 
 
 "Brave new world, 
 
 That has such people in't," 
 She bequeaths her fostering shield 'gainst chance 
 And loss, as a rich legacy from the 
 Prosperous Past to assure the Contingent Future; to 
 Save, perpetuate and place beyond Death's destroying 
 
 touch. 
 All the "conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils," of Hope 
 And Energy's creations, that Wealth, Honor and Success 
 Wait upon to call their own. 
 
 When to those, this shield refusing, the "poor, 
 mortal 
 Living ghost" of Life's failure appears, with loss of 
 "Bountiful fortune," and "Necessity's sharp pinch," 
 
 "To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow 
 
 An age of poverty," 
 How oft a breaking heart, the health's impairment, 
 And the wane of mental powers, associate! 
 
 The producing years of life are past. The shadows 
 Longer grow upon the declining hill of age; 
 The life work lies a wreck at Memory's portal; 
 And within Mind's crumbling temple Disappointment sits 
 In her ashen robes to warn all brighter 
 Thoughts away. Prostrate the mental ruin lies, and 
 All that shared its shelter have perished in 
 Its fall. The assuring Endowment and the Annuity 
 That provides will never mature. 
 
 "All is but toys; renown and grace is dead; 
 
 The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees 
 
 Is left this vault to brag of." 
 
 8 
 
THE DEATH OF THE UNINSURED 
 
 A picture in the sombre tints of 
 "The gloomy shade of death," 
 And 
 
 "As full of sorrows as the sea of sands," 
 
 On Memory's canvas now is thrown. 
 O'er all the dull hue of sadness blends 
 And all that is, is seen thro' tears. 
 
 *Tis the last hour of him who hath refused 
 The pleadings that "the more better Assurance" makes. 
 Another of Life's bankrupts, now, is struggling 
 With "grim and comfortless despair," and crowding 
 
 thoughts 
 Of duties, deferred to unfulfillment, appall his sense of 
 
 right. 
 The final debt to home and offspring due, 
 Is beyond the pale of payment now. 
 
 On the easel of the Future, 
 With 
 
 "Doubtful thoughts, and rash embracing despair 
 And shuddering fear," 
 
 The dying flame of conscience glows, 
 And with expiring gleam doth show 
 The fear and care-burdened face of her. 
 Of whom a thousand times and o'er. 
 The dying man hath said: 
 
 "She is mine own; 
 
 And I as rich in having such a jewel, 
 
 As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearl, 
 
 The waters nectar, and the rocks piu^e gold." 
 
 Within the portals of his dying thought 
 But one truth doth have its being now, 
 And every cell of brain doth feel: 
 
"The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
 That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 
 Can lay on nattire, is a paradise 
 To what we fear of death." 
 All is silence now, save beating hearts 
 Of grief and woe. A daughter's maiden face 
 Doth show the aging cares that e'en a 
 Woman should not know; from youthful eyes 
 Hope's brightest dreams have fled, and upon 
 Its chosen soil hath beauty ceased to bud. 
 A son, 
 
 "In the very may-morn of his youth, 
 Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises," 
 From labyrinth paths of progressive thought 
 Must now retrace his springing steps. 
 And backward move to realms of mediocrity, 
 And the ghosts of misspent days that crowd 
 From the graves of what might have been. 
 
 Another mind is lost to the needs of 
 This great world, and Progress waits again 
 Her chosen one. 
 
 Out bankrupt "dies and makes no sign," 
 E'en to her whose greatest debtor he has been. 
 
 "She looks upon his lips, and they are pale; 
 She takes him by the hand, and that is cold; 
 She whispers in his ears a heavy tale, 
 As if they heard the woeful words she told; 
 She lifts the coffer lids that close his eyes. 
 Where, lo, two lamps, btunt out, in darkness 
 lies." 
 
 A* 
 
 THE EPITAPH OF THE UNINSURED 
 
 The epitaph of one in whose nature 
 Assurance fotmd no chord responsive. 
 We here indite, 
 
 "For all his dependants 
 
 Which labour'd after him:" 
 
 10 
 
Noble he was in many things, 
 
 "A sweet-faced man, a proper man, 
 As one shall see in a stmimer's day;" 
 But in all that makes Hfe wholly sweet 
 And certain of accomplishment for dependent ones, 
 Thoughtless he was and careless, as if 
 In self absorbed and lost. 
 
 "And dying so," his home he left without sustain- 
 ment; 
 And those within its pictured walls who loved 
 Its beauties and were happy there, and felt 
 No fear of want, as day by day thro' many years 
 They added to its homelike wealth, knew it no longer, 
 Save in memory. 
 
 His wealth was coupled with an energy, 
 And "guiding power" of financial masterhood. 
 That could conceive and create Fortune's great results 
 From minor things and Time's "potent circumstances;" 
 But, when the master mind obliterate was. 
 And in the dead brain creative ambition 
 Had ceased to "sway our great designs," 
 And others sought to do as he had done, 
 'Twas found that all his Hfe accomplishments 
 By Death must needs fade to traceless naught. 
 And thus it was, that more of sorrow than 
 Of joy lived with his memory, until his 
 Name no more was spoken. 
 
 The sorrows he bequeathed lived on. 
 With "killing care" and depressing toil; 
 And undevelopment and the ungratified 
 Were woven and meshed into all the lives 
 Of kith and kin who struggled after him. 
 As legacies from one who thoughtless died. 
 
 So fade the works of men; 
 Back to the earth again, all things decay. 
 
 II 
 
THE AGENT 
 
 Of him with "heart as far from fraud as 
 Heaven from^ earth," who is most perfect in expounding 
 The warp and woof that Assurance "more busy 
 Than the laboring spider, weaves" through all 
 The lives of men, I must with Duncan say: 
 "In his commendation I am fed; 
 It is a banquet to me," 
 For he it is who saves the home, and 
 With actuarial exactitude creates the science that 
 Doth perpetuate the sustaining competencies of life. 
 
 He it is, who. 
 With Accumulation's magic might, unravels the tangled 
 Knots that hold estates in jeopardy, and protects 
 The widow from poverty and "the moody and 
 Dull melancholy" of despair. 
 
 He it is, who 
 Offers Fortune's "noble benefits" to all, in payments 
 Easy as the years run on, and with full 
 Quittance made when we are called upon to pass 
 "The melancholy flood 
 
 With that grim ferryman which poets write of 
 Unto the kingdom of perpetual night." 
 
 He it is, who, 
 With "reasons as plentiful as blackberries," doth induce 
 The compoundings of the unmissed savings of 
 Life's producing years, when 
 
 "True hope is swift, and flies with swallows' wings," 
 Into competencies for weak, infirm and unproductive 
 "Old age, that ill layer up of beauty." 
 
 He it is, who. 
 When caution's voice is still, and the prosperous 
 Present dulls the keen edge of Adversity's evil days 
 For all the Future's ever-changing years, 
 
 12 
 
Admonishes to give thought and heed to Catesby's words: 
 '"Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, 
 When men are unprepared and look not for it." 
 He it is, who. 
 By driving away the haunting ghost of Poverty that 
 Forever pleads in Saving's stinted whisper of fear, 
 Brings to Home's sacred precincts the marbles that teem 
 With lines of living loveliness, pictures that glow 
 In color and in beauty, and 
 
 "books. 
 From whence doth spring the true Promethean 
 fire." 
 He it is, who, 
 To the prosperous, as the "black, suspicious, threatening 
 
 cloud" 
 Of adversity rises in the bright skies of Venture, 
 Recalls Macbeth's stern caution: 
 
 "I'll make assurance double sure, 
 And take a bond of fate; 
 That I may tell pale-hearted Fear it lies, 
 And sleep in spite of thunder." 
 He it is, who, 
 By a modern science evolved from the limbeck 
 Of our better natures, creates, from the savings of 
 Life's brief years, an interest that is the partner 
 Of Forever. 
 
 He it is, who. 
 With "some sweet, oblivious antidote," removes the deep 
 Lines from the face of illness that "the 
 Heavy thought of Care" has graven there. 
 And by soft'ning the dread pillow of disease, adds 
 Life's legacy of to-morrows to our brief "bank and 
 Shoal of Time." 
 
 He it is, who 
 Provides an asset that cannot be stolen or lost 
 When e'en the "sure and firm-set earth" is swept away 
 
 13 
 
NOV 28 1913 
 
 By Adversity's "envious floods," and "what's past 
 And what's to come is strew'd with husks 
 And formless ruin." 
 
 He it is, who. 
 With Education's smiling cheer, supplants the vile dress 
 Of mediocrity that is the "blur to youth" 
 With "the intertissued robe of gold and pearl" 
 Proclaiming the enlightened mind that finds 
 
 "Tongues in trees, books in the nmning brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 He it is, who. 
 In communion with Man's higher faculties, doth average 
 The fortunes of men, efface the footprints of crime 
 Upon Progression's pathway through the Nations, and 
 Hold the torch by whose "most radiant, exquisite and 
 
 unmatchable" 
 Light, Evolution "with slow but stately pace," creates 
 A nobler, grander and more perfect type of man. 
 
 14 
 
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