,a ,,dish ,,of ,,orts  ,,by ,,george    
,,macdonald     ,,preface4   ,since     
printing throughout the title ,orts1 a  
doubt has arisen in my mind as to its   
fitting the nature of the volume4 ,it   
could hardly1 however1 be imagined that 
,i associate the idea of worthlessness  
with the work contained in it4 ,no one  
would insult his readers by offering    
them what he counted valueless scraps1  
and telling them they were such4 ,these 
papers1 those two even which were caught
 in the net of the ready-writer from    
extempore utterance1 whatever their     
merits in themselves2 are the results of
 by no means trifling labour4 ,so much a
 man ought to be able to say for his    
work4 ,and hence ,i might defend1 if not
 quite justify my title--for they are   
but fragmentary presentments of larger  
meditation4 ,my friends at least will   
accept them as such1 whether they like  
their collective title or not4  ,the    
title of the last is not quite suitable4
 ,it is that of the religious newspaper 

which reported the sermon4 ,i noted the 
fact too late for correction4 ,it ought 
to be ,true ,greatness4  ,the paper on  
,the ,fantastic ,imagination had its    
origin in the repeated request of       
readers for an explanation of things in 
certain shorter stories ,i had written4 
,it forms the preface to an ,american   
edition of my so-called ,fairy ,tales4  
,,george ,,macdonald4  ,,edenbridge1    
,,kent4 ,august #e1 #ahic4              
,,contents4  ,,the ,,imagination3 ,,its 
,,functions ,,and ,,its ,,culture  ,a   
,,sketch ,,of ,,individual ,,development
  ,,st4 ,,george',s ,,day1 #aefd  ,,the 
,,art ,,of ,,shakspere1 ,,as ,,revealed 
,,by ,,himself  ,,the ,,elder ,,hamlet  
,,on ,,polish  ,,browning',s            
8,,christmas ,,eve0  8,,essays ,,on     
,,some ,,of ,,the ,,forms ,,of          
,,literature0  8,,the ,,history ,,and   
,,heroes ,,of ,,medicine0               
,,wordsworth',s ,,poetry  ,,shelley  ,a 
,,sermon  ,,true ,,christian            
,,ministering  ,,the ,,fantastic        

,,imagination     ,,the ,,imagination3  
,,its ,,functions ,,and ,,its ,,culture4
   ,footnote3 #ahfg4  ,there are in     
whose notion education would seem to    
consist in the production of a certain  
repose through the development of this  
and that faculty1 and the depression1 if
 not eradication1 of this and that other
 faculty4 ,but if mere repose were the  
end in view1 an unsparing depression of 
all the faculties would be the surest   
means of approaching it1 provided always
 the animal instincts could be depressed
 likewise1 or1 better still1 kept in a  
state of constant repletion4 ,happily1  
however1 for the human race1 it         
possesses in the passion of hunger even1
 a more immediate saviour than in the   
wisest selection and treatment of its   
faculties4 ,for repose is not the end of
 education2 its end is a noble unrest1  
an ever renewed awaking from the dead1 a
 ceaseless questioning of the past for  
the interpretation of the future1 an    
urging on of the motions of life1 which 

had better far be accelerated into      
fever1 than retarded into lethargy4  ,by
 those who consider a balanced repose   
the end of culture1 the imagination must
 necessarily be regarded as the one     
faculty before all others to be         
suppressed4 8,are there not facts80 say 
they4 8,why forsake them for fancies8   
,is there not that which1 may be known8 
,why forsake it for inventions8 ,what   
,god hath made1 into that let man       
inquire40  ,we answer3 ,to inquire into 
what ,god has made is the main function 
of the imagination4 ,it is aroused by   
facts1 is nourished by facts2 seeks for 
higher and yet higher laws in those     
facts2 but refuses to regard science as 
the sole interpreter of nature1 or the  
laws of science as the only region of   
discovery4  ,we must begin with a       
definition of the word imagination1 or  
rather some description of the faculty  
to which we give the name4  ,the word   
itself means an imaging or a making of  
likenesses4 ,the imagination is that    

faculty which gives form to thought--not
 necessarily uttered form1 but form     
capable of being uttered in shape or in 
sound1 or in any mode upon which the    
senses can lay hold4 ,it is1 therefore1 
that faculty in man which is likest to  
the prime operation of the power of     
,god1 and has1 therefore1 been called   
the creative faculty1 and its exercise  
creation4 ,poet means maker4 ,we must   
not forget1 however1 that between       
creator and poet lies the one unpassable
 gulf which distinguishes--far be it    
from us to say divides--all that is     
,god's from all that is man's2 a gulf   
teeming with infinite revelations1 but a
 gulf over which no man can pass to find
 out ,god1 although ,god needs not to   
pass over it to find man2 the gulf      
between that which calls1 and that which
 is thus called into being2 between that
 which makes in its own image and that  
which is made in that image4 ,it is     
better to keep the word creation for    
that calling out of nothing which is the

 imagination of ,god2 except it be as an
 occasional symbolic expression1 whose  
daring is fully recognized1 of the      
likeness of man's work to the work of   
his maker4 ,the necessary unlikeness    
between the creator and the created     
holds within it the equally necessary   
likeness of the thing made to him who   
makes it1 and so of the work of the made
 to the work of the maker4 ,when        
therefore1 refusing to employ the word  
creation of the work of man1 we yet use 
the word imagination of the work of     
,god1 we cannot be said to dare at all4 
,it is only to give the name of man's   
faculty to that power after which and by
 which it was fashioned4 ,the           
imagination of man is made in the image 
of the imagination of ,god4 ,everything 
of man must have been of ,god first2 and
 it will help much towards our          
understanding of the imagination and its
 functions in man if we first succeed in
 regarding aright the imagination of    
,god1 in which the imagination of man   

lives and moves and has its being4  ,as 
to what thought is in the mind of ,god  
ere it takes form1 or what the form is  
to him ere he utters it2 in a word1 what
 the consciousness of ,god is in either 
case1 all we can say is1 that our       
consciousness in the resembling         
conditions must1 afar off1 resemble his4
 ,but when we come to consider the acts 
embodying the ,divine thought 7if indeed
 thought and act be not with him one and
 the same71 then we enter a region of   
large difference4 ,we discover at once1 
for instance1 that where a man would    
make a machine1 or a picture1 or a book1
 ,god makes the man that makes the book1
 or the picture1 or the machine4 ,would 
,god give us a drama8 ,he makes a       
,shakespere4 ,or would he construct a   
drama more immediately his own8 ,he     
begins with the building of the stage   
itself1 and that stage is a world--a    
universe of worlds4 ,he makes the       
actors1 and they do not act1--they are  
their part4 ,he utters them into the    

visible to work out their life--his     
drama4 ,when he would have an epic1 he  
sends a thinking hero into his drama1   
and the epic is the soliloquy of his    
,hamlet4 ,instead of writing his lyrics1
 he sets his birds and his maidens      
a-singing4 ,all the processes of the    
ages are ,god's science2 all the flow of
 history is his poetry4 ,his sculpture  
is not in marble1 but in living and     
speech-giving forms1 which pass away1   
not to yield place to those that come   
after1 but to be perfected in a nobler  
studio4 ,what he has done remains1      
although it vanishes2 and he never      
either forgets what he has once done1 or
 does it even once again4 ,as the       
thoughts move in the mind of a man1 so  
move the worlds of men and women in the 
mind of ,god1 and make no confusion     
there1 for there they had their birth1  
the offspring of his imagination4 ,man  
is but a thought of ,god4  ,if we now   
consider the so-called creative faculty 
in man1 we shall find that in no primary

 sense is this faculty creative4        
,indeed1 a man is rather being thought  
than thinking1 when a new thought arises
 in his mind4 ,he knew it not till he   
found it there1 therefore he could not  
even have sent for it4 ,he did not      
create it1 else how could it be the     
surprise that it was when it arose8 ,he 
may1 indeed1 in rare instances foresee  
that something is coming1 and make ready
 the place for its birth2 but that is   
the utmost relation of consciousness and
 will he can bear to the dawning idea4  
,leaving this aside1 however1 and       
turning to the embodiment or revelation 
of thought1 we shall find that a man no 
more creates the forms by which he would
 reveal his thoughts1 than he creates   
those thoughts themselves4  ,for what   
are the forms by means of which a man   
may reveal his thoughts8 ,are they not  
those of nature8 ,but although he is    
created in the closest sympathy with    
these forms1 yet even these forms are   
not born in his mind4 ,what springs     

there is the perception that this or    
that form is already an expression of   
this or that phase of thought or of     
feeling4 ,for the world around him is an
 outward figuration of the condition of 
his mind2 an inexhaustible storehouse of
 forms whence he may choose             
exponents--the crystal pitchers that    
shall protect his thought and not need  
to be broken that the light may break   
forth4 ,the meanings are in those forms 
already1 else they could be no garment  
of unveiling4 ,god has made the world   
that it should thus serve his creature1 
developing in the service that          
imagination whose necessity it meets4   
,the man has but to light the lamp      
within the form3 his imagination is the 
light1 it is not the form4 ,straightway 
the shining thought makes the form      
visible1 and becomes itself visible     
through the form4 ,footnote3 ,we would  
not be understood to say that the man   
works consciously even in this4         
,oftentimes1 if not always1 the vision  

arises in the mind1 thought and form    
together4  ,in illustration of what we  
mean1 take a passage from the poet      
,shelley4  ,in his poem ,adonais1       
written upon the death of ,keats1       
representing death as the revealer of   
secrets1 he says3--    8,the one        
remains2 the many change and pass2      
,heaven's light for ever shines2 earth's
 shadows fly2   ,life1 like a dome of   
many coloured glass1     ,stains the    
white radiance of eternity1   ,until    
death tramples it to fragments40  ,this 
is a new embodiment1 certainly1 whence  
he who gains not1 for the moment at     
least1 a loftier feeling of death1 must 
be dull either of heart or of           
understanding4 ,but has ,shelley created
 this figure1 or only put together its  
parts according to the harmony of truths
 already embodied in each of the parts8 
,for first he takes the inventions of   
his fellow-men1 in glass1 in colour1 in 
dome3 with these he represents life as  
finite though elevated1 and as an       

analysis although a lovely one4 ,next he
 presents eternity as the dome of the   
sky above this dome of coloured         
glass--the sky having ever been regarded
 as the true symbol of eternity4 ,this  
portion of the figure he enriches by the
 attribution of whiteness1 or unity and 
radiance4 ,and last1 he shows us ,death 
as the destroying revealer1 walking     
aloft through1 the upper region1        
treading out this life-bubble of        
colours1 that the man may look beyond it
 and behold the true1 the uncoloured1   
the all-coloured4  ,but although the    
human imagination has no choice but to  
make use of the forms already prepared  
for it1 its operation is the same as    
that of the divine inasmuch as it does  
put thought into form4 ,and if it be to 
man what creation is to ,god1 we must   
expect to find it operative in every    
sphere of human activity4 ,such is1     
indeed1 the fact1 and that to a far     
greater extent than is commonly         
supposed4  ,the sovereignty of the      

imagination1 for instance1 over the     
region of poetry will hardly1 in the    
present day at least1 be questioned2 but
 not every one is prepared to be told   
that the imagination has had nearly as  
much to do with the making of our       
language as with 8,macbeth0 or the      
8,paradise ,lost40 ,the half of our     
language is the work of the imagination4
  ,for how shall two agree together what
 name they shall give to a thought or a 
feeling4 ,how shall the one show the    
other that which is invisible8 ,true1 he
 can unveil the mind's construction in  
the face--that living eternally         
changeful symbol which ,god has hung in 
front of the unseen spirit--but that    
without words reaches only to the       
expression of present feeling4 ,to      
attempt to employ it alone for the      
conveyance of the intellectual or the   
historical would constantly mislead2    
while the expression of feeling itself  
would be misinterpreted1 especially with
 regard to cause and object3 the dumb   

show would be worse than dumb4  ,but let
 a man become aware of some new movement
 within him4 ,loneliness comes with it1 
for he would share his mind with his    
friend1 and he cannot2 he is shut up in 
speechlessness4 ,thus    ,he may live a 
man forbid   ,weary seven nights nine   
times nine1  or the first moment of his 
perplexity may be that of his release4  
,gazing about him in pain1 he suddenly  
beholds the material form of his        
immaterial condition4 ,there stands his 
thought6 ,god thought it before him1 and
 put its picture there ready for him    
when he wanted it4 ,or1 to express the  
thing more prosaically1 the man cannot  
look around him long without perceiving 
some form1 aspect1 or movement of       
nature1 some relation between its forms1
 or between such and himself which      
resembles the state or motion within    
him4 ,this he seizes as the symbol1 as  
the garment or body of his invisible    
thought1 presents it to his friend1 and 
his friend understands him4 ,every word 

so employed with a new meaning is       
henceforth1 in its new character1 born  
of the spirit and not of the flesh1 born
 of the imagination and not of the      
understanding1 and is henceforth        
submitted to new laws of growth and     
modification4  8,thinkest thou10 says   
,carlyle in 8,past and ,present10 8there
 were no poets till ,dan ,chaucer8 ,no  
heart burning with a thought which it   
could not hold1 and had no word for2 and
 needed to shape and coin a word        
for--what thou callest a metaphor1      
trope1 or the like8 ,for every word we  
have there was such a man and poet4 ,the
 coldest word was once a glowing new    
metaphor and bold questionable          
originality4 ,thy very ,,attention1 does
 it not mean an attentio1 a             
,,stretching-,,to8 ,fancy that act of   
the mind1 which all were conscious of1  
which none had yet named1--when this new
 poet first felt bound and driven to    
name it4 ,his questionable originality  
and new glowing metaphor was found      

adoptable1 intelligible1 and remains our
 name for it to this day40  ,all words1 
then1 belonging to the inner world of   
the mind1 are of the imagination1 are   
originally poetic words4 ,the better1   
however1 any such word is fitted for the
 needs of humanity1 the sooner it loses 
its poetic aspect by commonness of use4 
,it ceases to be heard as a symbol1 and 
appears only as a sign4 ,thus thousands 
of words which were originally poetic   
words owing their existence to the      
imagination1 lose their vitality1 and   
harden into mummies of prose4 ,not      
merely in literature does poetry come   
first1 and prose afterwards1 but poetry 
is the source of all the language that  
belongs to the inner world1 whether it  
be of passion or of metaphysics1 of     
psychology or of aspiration4 ,no poetry 
comes by the elevation of prose2 but the
 half of prose comes by the 8massing    
into the common clay0 of thousands of   
winged words1 whence1 like the lovely   
shells of by-gone ages1 one is          

occasionally disinterred by some lover  
of speech1 and held up to the light to  
show the play of colour in its manifold 
laminations4  ,for the world is--allow  
us the homely figure--the human being   
turned inside out4 ,all that moves in   
the mind is symbolized in ,nature4 ,or1 
to use another more philosophical1 and  
certainly not less poetic figure1 the   
world is a sensuous analysis of         
humanity1 and hence an inexhaustible    
wardrobe for the clothing of human      
thought4 ,take any word expressive of   
emotion--take the word emotion          
itself--and you will find that its      
primary meaning is of the outer world4  
,in the swaying of the woods1 in the    
unrest of the 8wavy plain10 the         
imagination saw the picture of a        
well-known condition of the human mind2 
and hence the word emotion4 ,footnote3  
,this passage contains only a repetition
 of what is far better said in the      
preceding extract from ,carlyle1 but it 
was written before we had read 7if      

reviewers may be allowed to confess such
 ignorance7 the book from which that    
extract is taken4  ,but while the       
imagination of man has thus the divine  
function of putting thought into form1  
it has a duty altogether human1 which is
 paramount to that function--the duty1  
namely1 which springs from his immediate
 relation to the ,father1 that of       
following and finding out the divine    
imagination in whose image it was made4 
,to do this1 the man must watch its     
signs1 its manifestations4 ,he must     
contemplate what the ,hebrew poets call 
the works of ,his hands4  8,but to      
follow those is the province of the     
intellect1 not of the imagination40--,we
 will leave out of the question at      
present that poetic interpretation of   
the works of ,nature with which the     
intellect has almost nothing1 and the   
imagination almost everything1 to do4   
,it is unnecessary to insist that the   
higher being of a flower even is        
dependent for its reception upon the    

human imagination2 that science may pull
 the snowdrop to shreds1 but cannot find
 out the idea of suffering hope and pale
 confident submission1 for the sake of  
which that darling of the spring looks  
out of heaven1 namely1 ,god's heart1    
upon us his wiser and more sinful       
children2 for if there be any truth in  
this region of things acknowledged at   
all1 it will be at the same time        
acknowledged that that region belongs to
 the imagination4 ,we confine ourselves 
to that questioning of the works of ,god
 which is called the province of        
science4  8,shall1 then1 the human      
intellect10 we ask1 8come into readier  
contact with the divine imagination than
 that human imagination80 ,the work of  
the ,higher must be discovered by the   
search of the ,lower in degree which is 
yet similar in kind4 ,let us not be     
supposed to exclude the intellect from a
 share in every highest office4 ,man is 
not divided when the manifestations of  
his life are distinguished4 ,the        

intellect 8is all in every part40 ,there
 were no imagination without intellect1 
however much it may appear that         
intellect can exist without imagination4
 ,what we mean to insist upon is1 that  
in finding out the works of ,god1 the   
,intellect must labour1 workman-like1   
under the direction of the architect1   
,imagination4 ,herein1 too1 we proceed  
in the hope to show how much more than  
is commonly supposed the imagination has
 to do with human endeavour2 how large a
 share it has in the work that is done  
under the sun4  8,but how can the       
imagination have anything to do with    
science8 ,that region1 at least1 is     
governed by fixed laws40  8,true10 we   
answer4 8,but how much do we know of    
these laws8 ,how much of science already
 belongs to the region of the           
ascertained--in other words1 has been   
conquered by the intellect8 ,we will not
 now dispute1 your vindication of the   
ascertained from the intrusion of the   
imagination2 but we do claim for it all 

the undiscovered1 all the unexplored40  
8,ah1 well6 ,there it can do little     
harm4 ,there let it run riot if you     
will40 8,no10 we reply4 8,licence is not
 what we claim when we assert the duty  
of the imagination to be that of        
following and finding out the work that 
,god maketh4 ,her part is to understand 
,god ere she attempts to utter man4     
,where is the room for being fanciful or
 riotous here8 ,it is only the ill-bred1
 that is1 the uncultivated imagination  
that will amuse itself where it ought to
 worship and work40  8,but the facts of 
,nature are to be discovered only by    
observation and experiment40 ,true4 ,but
 how does the man of science come to    
think of his experiments8 ,does         
observation reach to the non-present1   
the possible1 the yet unconceived8 ,even
 if it showed you the experiments which 
ought to be made1 will observation      
reveal to you the experiments which     
might be made8 ,and who can tell of     
which kind is the one that carries in   

its bosom the secret of the law you     
seek8 ,we yield you your facts4 ,the    
laws we claim for the prophetic         
imagination4 8,he hath set the world in 
man's heart10 not in his understanding4 
,and the heart must open the door to the
 understanding4 ,it is the far-seeing   
imagination which beholds what might be 
a form of things1 and says to the       
intellect3 8,try whether that may not be
 the form of these things20 which       
beholds or invents a harmonious relation
 of parts and operations1 and sends the 
intellect to find out whether that be   
not the harmonious relation of          
them--that is1 the law of the phenomenon
 it contemplates4 ,nay1 the poetic      
relations themselves in the phenomenon  
may suggest to the imagination the law  
that rules its scientific life4 ,yea1   
more than this3 we dare to claim for the
 true1 childlike1 humble imagination1   
such an inward oneness with the laws of 
the universe that it possesses in itself
 an insight into the very nature of     

things4  ,lord ,bacon tells us that a   
prudent question is the half of         
knowledge4 ,whence comes this prudent   
question8 we repeat4 ,and we answer1    
,from the imagination4 ,it is the       
imagination that suggests in what       
direction to make the new               
inquiry--which1 should it cast no       
immediate light on the answer sought1   
can yet hardly fail to be a step towards
 final discovery4 ,every experiment has 
its origin in hypothesis2 without the   
scaffolding of hypothesis1 the house of 
science could never arise4 ,and the     
construction of any hypothesis whatever 
is the work of the imagination4 ,the man
 who cannot invent will never discover4 
,the imagination often gets a glimpse of
 the law itself long before it is or can
 be ascertained to be a law4 ,footnote3 
,this paper was already written when1   
happening to mention the present subject
 to a mathematical friend1 a lecturer at
 one of the universities1 he gave us a  
corroborative instance4 ,he had lately  

guessed that a certain algebraic process
 could be shortened exceedingly if the  
method which his imagination suggested  
should prove to be a true one--that is1 
an algebraic law4 ,he put it to the test
 of experiment--committed the           
verification1 that is1 into the hands of
 his intellect--and found the method    
true4 ,it has since been accepted by the
 ,royal ,society4  ,noteworthy          
illustration we have lately found in the
 record of the experiences of an        
,edinburgh detective1 an ,irishman of   
the name of ,mc,levy4 ,that the service 
of the imagination in the solution of   
the problems peculiar to his calling is 
well known to him1 we could adduce many 
proofs4 ,he recognizes its function in  
the construction of the theory which    
shall unite this and that hint into an  
organic whole1 and he expressly sets    
forth the need of a theory before facts 
can be serviceable3--  8,i would wait   
for my #8idea'4444 ,i never did any good
 without mine4444 ,chance never smiled  

on me unless ,i poked her some way2 so  
that my #8notion1' after all1 has been  
in the getting of it my own work only   
perfected by a higher hand40  8,on      
leaving the shop ,i went direct to      
,prince's ,street1--of course with an   
idea in my mind2 and somehow ,i have    
always been contented with one idea when
 ,i could not get another2 and the      
advantage of sticking by one is1 that   
the other don't jostle it and turn you  
about in a circle when you should go in 
a straight line40 7,footnote3 ,since    
quoting the above ,i have learned that  
the book referred to is unworthy of     
confidence4 ,but let it stand as        
illustration where it cannot be proof47 
,the region belonging to the pure       
intellect is straitened3 the imagination
 labours to extend its territories1 to  
give it room4 ,she sweeps across the    
borders1 searching out new lands into   
which she may guide her plodding        
brother4 ,the imagination is the light  
which redeems from the darkness for the 

eyes of the understanding4 ,novalis     
says1 8,the imagination is the stuff of 
the intellect0--affords1 that is1 the   
material upon which the intellect works4
 ,and ,bacon1 in his 8,advancement of   
,learning10 fully recognizes this its   
office1 corresponding to the foresight  
of ,god in this1 that it beholds afar   
off4 ,and he says3 8,imagination is much
 akin to miracle-working faith40        
,footnote3 ,we are sorry we cannot      
verify this quotation1 for which we are 
indebted to ,mr4 ,oldbuck the           
,antiquary1 in the novel of that ilk4   
,there is1 however1 little room for     
doubt that it is sufficiently correct4  
,in the scientific region of her duty of
 which we speak1 the ,imagination cannot
 have her perfect work2 this belongs to 
another and higher sphere than that of  
intellectual truth--that1 namely1 of    
full-globed humanity1 operating in which
 she gives birth to poetry--truth in    
beauty4 ,but her function in the        
complete sphere of our nature1 will1 at 

the same time1 influence her more       
limited operation in the sections that  
belong to science4 ,coleridge says that 
no one but a poet will make any further 
great discoveries in mathematics2 and   
,bacon says that 8wonder10 that faculty 
of the mind especially attendant on the 
child-like imagination1 8is the seed of 
knowledge40 ,the influence of the poetic
 upon the scientific imagination is1 for
 instance1 especially present in the    
construction of an invisible whole from 
the hints afforded by a visible part2   
where the needs of the part1 its        
uselessness1 its broken relations1 are  
the only guides to a multiplex harmony1 
completeness1 and end1 which is the     
whole4 ,from a little bone1 worn with   
ages of death1 older than the man can   
think1 his scientific imagination dashed
 with the poetic1 calls up the form1    
size1 habits1 periods1 belonging to an  
animal never beheld by human eyes1 even 
to the mingling contrasts of scales and 
wings1 of feathers and hair4 ,through   

the combined lenses of science and      
imagination1 we look back into ancient  
times1 so dreadful in their             
incompleteness1 that it may well have   
been the task of seraphic faith1 as well
 as of cherubic imagination1 to behold  
in the wallowing monstrosities of the   
terror-teeming earth1 the prospective1  
quiet1 age-long labour of ,god preparing
 the world with all its humble1 graceful
 service for his unborn ,man4 ,the      
imagination of the poet1 on the other   
hand1 dashed with the imagination of the
 man of science1 revealed to ,goethe the
 prophecy of the flower in the leaf4 ,no
 other than an artistic imagination1    
however1 fulfilled of science1 could    
have attained to the discovery of the   
fact that the leaf is the imperfect     
flower4  ,when we turn to history1      
however1 we find probably the greatest  
operative sphere of the                 
intellectuo-constructive imagination4   
,to discover its laws2 the cycles in    
which events return1 with the reasons of

 their return1 recognizing them         
notwithstanding metamorphosis2 to       
perceive the vital motions of this      
spiritual body of mankind2 to learn from
 its facts the rule of ,god2 to         
construct from a succession of broken   
indications a whole accordant with human
 nature2 to approach a scheme of the    
forces at work1 the passions            
overwhelming or upheaving1 the          
aspirations securely upraising1 the     
selfishnesses debasing and crumbling1   
with the vital interworking of the      
whole2 to illuminate all from the       
analogy with individual life1 and from  
the predominant phases of individual    
character which are taken as the mind of
 the people--this is the province of the
 imagination4 ,without her influence no 
process of recording events can develop 
into a history4 ,as truly might that be 
called the description of a volcano     
which occupied itself with a delineation
 of the shapes assumed by the smoke     
expelled from the mountain's burning    

bosom4 ,what history becomes under the  
full sway of the imagination may be seen
 in the 8,history of the ,french        
,revolution10  by ,thomas ,carlyle1 at  
once a true picture1 a philosophical    
revelation1 a noble poem4  ,there is a  
wonderful passage about ,time in        
,shakespere's 8,rape of ,lucrece10 which
 shows how he understood history4 ,the  
passage is really about history1 and not
 about time2 for time itself does       
nothing--not even 8blot old books and   
alter their contents40 ,it is the forces
 at work in time that produce all the   
changes2 and they are history4 ,we quote
 for the sake of one line chiefly1 but  
the whole stanza is pertinent4          
8,time's glory is to calm contending    
kings1   ,to unmask falsehood1 and bring
 truth to light1   ,to stamp the seal of
 time in aged things1   ,to wake the    
morn and sentinel the night1   ,to wrong
 the wronger till he render right2   ,to
 ruinate proud buildings with thy hours1
   ,and smear with dust their glittering

 golden towers40  ,to wrong the wronger 
till he render right4 ,here is a        
historical cycle worthy of the          
imagination of ,shakespere1 yea1 worthy 
of the creative imagination of our      
,god--the ,god who made the ,shakespere 
with the imagination1 as well as evolved
 the history from the laws which that   
imagination followed and found out4  ,in
 full instance we would refer our       
readers to ,shakespere's historical     
plays2 and1 as a side-illustration1 to  
the fact that he repeatedly represents  
his greatest characters1 when at the    
point of death1 as relieving their      
overcharged minds by prophecy4 ,such    
prophecy is the result of the light of  
imagination1 cleared of all distorting  
dimness by the vanishing of earthly     
hopes and desires1 cast upon the facts  
of experience4 ,such prophecy is the    
perfect working of the historical       
imagination4  ,in the interpretation of 
individual life1 the same principles    
hold2 and nowhere can the imagination be

 more healthily and rewardingly occupied
 than in endeavouring to construct the  
life of an individual out of the        
fragments which are all that can reach  
us of the history of even the noblest of
 our race4 ,how this will apply to the  
reading of the gospel story we leave to 
the earnest thought of our readers4  ,we
 now pass to one more sphere in which   
the student imagination works in glad   
freedom--the sphere which is understood 
to belong more immediately to the poet4 
,we have already said that the forms of 
,nature 7by which word forms we mean any
 of those conditions of ,nature which   
affect the senses of man7 are so many   
approximate representations of the      
mental conditions of humanity4 ,the     
outward1 commonly called the material1  
is informed by1 or has form in virtue   
of1 the inward or immaterial--in a word1
 the thought4 ,the forms of ,nature are 
the representations of human thought in 
virtue of their being the embodiment of 
,god's thought4 ,as such1 therefore1    

they can be read and used to any depth1 
shallow or profound4 ,men of all ages   
and all developments have discovered in 
them the means of expression2 and the   
men of ages to come1 before us in every 
path along which we are now striving1   
must likewise find such means in those  
forms1 unfolding with their unfolding   
necessities4 ,the man1 then1 who1 in    
harmony with nature1 attempts the       
discovery of more of her meanings1 is   
just searching out the things of ,god4  
,the deepest of these are far too simple
 for us to understand as yet4 ,but let  
our imagination interpretive reveal to  
us one severed significance of one of   
her parts1 and such is the harmony of   
the whole1 that all the realm of ,nature
 is open to us henceforth--not without  
labour--and in time4 ,upon the man who  
can understand the human meaning of the 
snowdrop1 of the primrose1 or of the    
daisy1 the life of the earth blossoming 
into the cosmical flower of a perfect   
moment will one day seize1 possessing   

him with its prophetic hope1 arousing   
his conscience with the vision of the   
8rest that remaineth10 and stirring up  
the aspiration to enter into that rest3 
8,thine is the tranquil hour1 purpureal 
,eve6   ,but long as godlike wish1 or   
hope divine1   ,informs my spirit1 ne'er
 can ,i believe   ,that this            
magnificence is wholly thine6   --,from 
worlds not quickened by the sun   ,a    
portion of the gift is won2   ,an       
intermingling of ,heaven's pomp is      
spread   ,on ground which ,british      
shepherds tread60  ,even the careless   
curve of a frozen cloud across the blue 
will calm some troubled thoughts1 may   
slay some selfish thoughts4 ,and what   
shall be said of such gorgeous shows as 
the scarlet poppies in the green corn1  
the likest we have to those lilies of   
the field which spoke to the ,saviour   
himself of the care of ,god1 and        
rejoiced ,his eyes with the glory of    
their ,god-devised array8 ,from such    
visions as these the imagination reaps  

the best fruits of the earth1 for the   
sake of which all the science involved  
in its construction1 is the inferior1   
yet willing and beautiful support4      
,from what we have now advanced1 will it
 not then appear that1 on the whole1 the
 name given by our ,norman ancestors is 
more fitting for the man who moves in   
these regions than the name given by the
 ,greeks8 ,is not the ,poet1 the ,maker1
 a less suitable name for him than the  
,trouvre1 the ,finder8 ,at least1 must  
not the faculty that finds precede the  
faculty that utters8  ,but is there     
nothing to be said of the function of   
the imagination from the ,greek side of 
the question8 ,does it possess no       
creative faculty8 ,has it no originating
 power8  ,certainly it would be a poor  
description of the ,imagination which   
omitted the one element especially      
present to the mind that invented the   
word ,poet4--,it can present us with new
 thought-forms--new1 that is1 as        
revelations of thought4 ,it has created 

none of the material that goes to make  
these forms4 ,nor does it work upon raw 
material4 ,but it takes forms already   
existing1 and gathers them about a      
thought so much higher than they1 that  
it can group and subordinate and        
harmonize them into a whole which shall 
represent1 unveil that thought4         
,footnote3 ,just so ,spenser describes  
the process of the embodiment of a human
 soul in his ,platonic 8,hymn in ,honour
 of ,beauty40    8,she frames her house 
in which she will be placed   ,fit for  
herself4444   ,and the gross matter by a
 sovereign might   ,tempers so trim4444 
,for of the soul the body form doth     
take2   ,for soul is form1 and doth the 
body make40  ,the nature of this process
 we will illustrate by an examination of
 the well-known ,bugle ,song in         
,tennyson's 8,princess40  ,first of all1
 there is the new music of the song1    
which does not even remind one of the   
music of any other4 ,the rhythm1 rhyme1 
melody1 harmony are all an embodiment in

 sound1 as distinguished from word1 of  
what can be so embodied--the feeling of 
the poem1 which goes before1 and        
prepares the way for the following      
thought--tunes the heart into a         
receptive harmony4 ,then comes the new  
arrangement of thought and figure       
whereby the meaning contained is        
presented as it never was before4 ,we   
give a sort of paraphrastical synopsis  
of the poem1 which1 partly in virtue of 
its disagreeableness1 will enable the   
lovers of the song to return to it with 
an increase of pleasure4  ,the glory of 
midsummer mid-day upon mountain1 lake1  
and ruin4 ,give nature a voice for her  
gladness4 ,blow1 bugle4  ,nature answers
 with dying echoes1 sinking in the midst
 of her splendour into a sad silence4   
,not so with human nature4 ,the echoes  
of the word of truth gather volume and  
richness from every soul that re-echoes 
it to brother and sister souls4  ,with  
poets the fashion has been to contrast  
the stability and rejuvenescence of     

nature with the evanescence and         
unreturning decay of humanity3--        
8,yet soon reviving plants and flowers1 
anew shall deck the plain2   ,the woods 
shall hear the voice of ,spring1 and    
flourish green again4   ,but man        
forsakes this earthly scene1 ah6 never  
to return3   ,shall any following       
,spring revive the ashes of the urn80   
,but our poet vindicates the eternal in 
humanity3--    8,o ,love1 they die in   
yon rich sky1      ,they faint on hill  
or field or river3       ,our echoes    
roll from soul to soul1         ,and    
grow for ever and for ever4   ,blow1    
bugle1 blow1 set the wild echoes flying2
   ,and answer1 echoes1 answer1 ,dying1 
dying1 dying40  ,is not this a new form 
to the thought--a form which makes us   
feel the truth of it afresh8 ,and every 
new embodiment of a known truth must be 
a new and wider revelation4 ,no man is  
capable of seeing for himself the whole 
of any truth3 he needs it echoed back to
 him from every soul in the universe2   

and still its centre is hid in the      
,father of ,lights4 ,in so far1 then1 as
 either form or thought is new1 we may  
grant the use of the word ,creation1    
modified according to our previous      
definitions4  ,this operation of the    
imagination in choosing1 gathering1 and 
vitally combining the material of a new 
revelation1 may be well illustrated from
 a certain employment of the poetic     
faculty in which our greatest poets have
 delighted4 ,perceiving truth half      
hidden and half revealed in the slow    
speech and stammering tongue of men who 
have gone before them1 they have taken  
up the unfinished form and completed it2
 they have1 as it were1 rescued the soul
 of meaning from its prison of          
uninformed crudity1 where it sat like   
the ,prince in the 8,arabian ,nights10  
half man1 half marble2 they have set it 
free in its own form1 in a shape1       
namely1 which it could 8through every   
part impress40 ,shakespere's keen eye   
suggested many such a rescue from the   

tomb--of a tale drearily told--a tale   
which no one now would read save for the
 glorified form in which he has         
re-embodied its true contents4 ,and from
 ,tennyson we can produce one specimen  
small enough for our use1 which1 a mere 
chip from the great marble re-embodying 
the old legend of ,arthur's death1 may1 
like the hand of ,achilles holding his  
spear in the crowded picture1    8,stand
 for the whole to be imagined40  ,in the
 8,history of ,prince ,arthur10 when    
,sir ,bedivere returns after hiding     
,excalibur the first time1 the king asks
 him what he has seen1 and he answers-- 
8,sir1 ,i saw nothing but waves and     
wind40  ,the second time1 to the same   
question1 he answers--    8,sir1 ,i saw 
nothing but the water#a wap1 and the    
waves wan40  ,footnote #a3 ,the word wap
 is plain enough2 the word wan we cannot
 satisfy ourselves about4 ,had it been  
used with regard to the water1 it might 
have been worth remarking that wan1     
meaning dark1 gloomy1 turbid1 is a      

common adjective to a river in the old  
,scotch ballad4 ,and it might be an     
adjective here2 but that is not likely1 
seeing it is conjoined with the verb    
wap4 ,the ,anglo-,saxon wanian1 to      
decrease1 might be the root-word1       
perhaps1 7in the sense of to ebb17 if   
this water had been the sea and not a   
lake4 ,but possibly the meaning is1 8,i 
heard the water whoop or wail aloud0    
7from ,wpan72 and 8the waves whine or   
bewail0 7from ,wnian to lament74 ,but   
even then the two verbs would seem to   
predicate of transposed subjects4  ,this
 answer ,tennyson has expanded into the 
well-known lines--    8,i heard the     
ripple washing in the reeds1   ,and the 
wild water lapping on the crag20        
slightly varied1 for the other occasion1
 into--    8,i heard the water lapping  
on the crag1   ,and the long ripple     
washing in the reeds40  ,but1 as to this
 matter of creation1 is there1 after    
all1 ,i ask yet1 any genuine sense in   
which a man may be said to create his   

own thought-forms8 ,allowing that a new 
combination of forms already existing   
might be called creation1 is the man1   
after all1 the author of this new       
combination8 ,did he1 with his will and 
his knowledge1 proceed wittingly1       
consciously1 to construct a form which  
should embody his thought8 ,or did this 
form arise within him without will or   
effort of his--vivid if not             
clear--certain if not outlined8 ,ruskin 
7and better authority we do not know7   
will assert the latter1 and we think he 
is right3 though perhaps he would insist
 more upon the absolute perfection of   
the vision than we are quite prepared to
 do4 ,such embodiments are not the      
result of the man's intention1 or of the
 operation of his conscious nature4 ,his
 feeling is that they are given to him2 
that from the vast unknown1 where time  
and space are not1 they suddenly appear 
in luminous writing upon the wall of his
 consciousness4 ,can it be correct1     
then1 to say that he created them8      

,nothing less so1 as it seems to us4    
,but can we not say that they are the   
creation of the unconscious portion of  
his nature8 ,yes1 provided we can       
understand that that which is the       
individual1 the man1 can know1 and not  
know that it knows1 can create and yet  
be ignorant that virtue has gone out of 
it4 ,from that unknown region we grant  
they come1 but not by its own blind     
working4 ,nor1 even were it so1 could   
any amount of such production1 where no 
will was concerned1 be dignified with   
the name of creation4 ,but ,god sits in 
that chamber of our being in which the  
candle of our consciousness goes out in 
darkness1 and sends forth from thence   
wonderful gifts into the light of that  
understanding which is ,his candle4 ,our
 hope lies in no most perfect mechanism 
even of the spirit1 but in the wisdom   
wherein we live and move and have our   
being4 ,thence we hope for endless forms
 of beauty informed of truth4 ,if the   
dark portion of our own being were the  

origin of our imaginations1 we might    
well fear the apparition of such        
monsters as would be generated in the   
sickness of a decay which could never   
feel--only declare--a slow return       
towards primeval chaos4 ,but the ,maker 
is our ,light4  ,one word more1 ere we  
turn to consider the culture of this    
noblest faculty1 which we might well    
call the creative1 did we not see a     
something in ,god for which we would    
humbly keep our mighty word3--the fact  
that there is always more in a work of  
art--which is the highest human result  
of the embodying imagination--than the  
producer himself perceived while he     
produced it1 seems to us a strong reason
 for attributing to it a larger origin  
than the man alone--for saying at the   
last1 that the inspiration of the       
,almighty shaped its ends4  ,we return  
now to the class which1 from the first1 
we supposed hostile to the imagination  
and its functions generally4 ,those     
belonging to it will now say3 8,it was  

to no imagination such as you have been 
setting forth that we were opposed1 but 
to those wild fancies and vague reveries
 in which young people indulge1 to the  
damage and loss of the real in the world
 around them40  8,and10 we insist1 8you 
would rectify the matter by smothering  
the young monster at once--because he   
has wings1 and1 young to their use1     
flutters them about in a way            
discomposing to your nerves1 and        
destructive to those notions of         
propriety of which this creature--you   
stop not to inquire whether angel or    
pterodactyle--has not yet learned even  
the existence4 ,or1 if it is only the   
creature's vagaries of which you        
disapprove1 why speak of them as the    
exercise of the imagination8 ,as well   
speak of religion as the mother of      
cruelty because religion has given more 
occasion of cruelty1 as of all          
dishonesty and devilry1 than any other  
object of human interest4 ,are we not to
 worship1 because our forefathers burned

 and stabbed for religion8 ,it is more  
religion we want4 ,it is more           
imagination we need4 ,be assured that   
these are but the first vital motions of
 that whose results1 at least in the    
region of science1 you are more than    
willing to accept40 ,that evil may      
spring from the imagination1 as from    
everything except the perfect love of   
,god1 cannot be denied4 ,but infinitely 
worse evils would be the result of its  
absence4 ,selfishness1 avarice1         
sensuality1 cruelty1 would flourish     
tenfold2 and the power of ,satan would  
be well established ere some children   
had begun to choose4 ,those who would   
quell the apparently lawless tossing of 
the spirit1 called the youthful         
imagination1 would suppress all that is 
to grow out of it4 ,they fear the       
enthusiasm they never felt2 and instead 
of cherishing this divine thing1 instead
 of giving it room and air for healthful
 growth1 they would crush and confine   
it--with but one result of their        

victorious endeavours--imposthume1      
fever1 and corruption4 ,and the         
disastrous consequences would soon      
appear in the intellect likewise which  
they worship4 ,kill that whence spring  
the crude fancies and wild day-dreams of
 the young1 and you will never lead them
 beyond dull facts--dull because their  
relations to each other1 and the one    
life that works in them all1 must remain
 undiscovered4 ,whoever would have his  
children avoid this arid region will do 
well to allow no teacher to approach    
them--not even of mathematics--who has  
no imagination4  8,but although good    
results may appear in a few from the    
indulgence of the imagination1 how will 
it be with the many80  ,we answer that  
the antidote to indulgence is           
development1 not restraint1 and that    
such is the duty of the wise servant of 
,him who made the imagination4  8,but   
will most girls1 for instance1 rise to  
those useful uses of the imagination8   
,are they not more likely to exercise it

 in building castles in the air to the  
neglect of houses on the earth8 ,and as 
the world affords such poor scope for   
the ideal1 will not this habit breed    
vain desires and vain regrets8 ,is it   
not better1 therefore1 to keep to that  
which is known1 and leave the rest80    
8,is the world so poor80 we ask in      
return4 ,the less reason1 then1 to be   
satisfied with it2 the more reason to   
rise above it1 into the region of the   
true1 of the eternal1 of things as ,god 
thinks them4 ,this outward world is but 
a passing vision of the persistent true4
 ,we shall not live in it always4 ,we   
are dwellers in a divine universe where 
no desires are in vain1 if only they be 
large enough4 ,not even in this world do
 all disappointments breed only vain    
regrets4 ,footnote3   8,we will grieve  
not1 rather find   ,strength in what    
remains behind2   ,in the primal        
sympathy   ,which1 having been1 must    
ever be2   ,in the soothing thoughts    
that spring   ,out of human suffering2  

,in the faith that looks through death1 
,in years that bring the philosophic    
mind40  ,and as to keeping to that which
 is known and leaving the rest--how many
 affairs of this world are so           
well-defined1 so capable of being       
clearly understood1 as not to leave     
large spaces of uncertainty1 whose very 
correlate faculty is the imagination8   
,indeed it must1 in most things1 work   
after some fashion1 filling the gaps    
after some possible plan1 before action 
can even begin4 ,in very truth1 a wise  
imagination1 which is the presence of   
the spirit of ,god1 is the best guide   
that man or woman can have2 for it is   
not the things we see the most clearly  
that influence us the most powerfully2  
undefined1 yet vivid visions of         
something beyond1 something which eye   
has not seen nor ear heard1 have far    
more influence than any logical         
sequences whereby the same things may be
 demonstrated to the intellect4 ,it is  
the nature of the thing1 not the        

clearness of its outline1 that          
determines its operation4 ,we live by   
faith1 and not by sight4 ,put the       
question to our mathematicians--only be 
sure the question reaches them--whether 
they would part with the well-defined   
perfection of their diagrams1 or the    
dim1 strange1 possibly half-obliterated 
characters woven in the web of their    
being2 their science1 in short1 or their
 poetry2 their certainties1 or their    
hopes2 their consciousness of knowledge1
 or their vague sense of that which     
cannot be known absolutely3 will they   
hold by their craft or by their         
inspirations1 by their intellects or    
their imaginations8 ,if they say the    
former in each alternative1 ,i shall yet
 doubt whether the objects of the choice
 are actually before them1 and with     
equal presentation4  ,what can be known 
must be known severely2 but is there1   
therefore1 no faculty for those infinite
 lands of uncertainty lying all about   
the sphere hollowed out of the dark by  

the glimmering lamp of our knowledge8   
,are they not the natural property of   
the imagination8 there1 for it1 that it 
may have room to grow8 there1 that the  
man may learn to imagine greatly like   
,god who made him1 himself discovering  
their mysteries1 in virtue of his       
following and worshipping imagination8  
,all that has been said1 then1 tends to 
enforce the culture of the imagination4 
,but the strongest argument of all      
remains behind4 ,for1 if the whole power
 of pedantry should rise against her1   
the imagination will yet work2 and if   
not for good1 then for evil2 if not for 
truth1 then for falsehood2 if not for   
life1 then for death2 the evil          
alternative becoming the more likely    
from the unnatural treatment she has    
experienced from those who ought to have
 fostered her4 ,the power that might    
have gone forth in conceiving the       
noblest forms of action1 in realizing   
the lives of the true-hearted1 the      
self-forgetting1 will go forth in       

building airy castles of vain ambition1 
of boundless riches1 of unearned        
admiration4 ,the imagination that might 
be devising how to make home blessed or 
to help the poor neighbour1 will be     
absorbed in the invention of the new    
dress1 or worse1 in devising the means  
of procuring it4 ,for1 if she be not    
occupied with the beautiful1 she will be
 occupied by the pleasant2 that which   
goes not out to worship1 will remain at 
home to be sensual4 ,cultivate the mere 
intellect as you may1 it will never     
reduce the passions3 the imagination1   
seeking the ideal in everything1 will   
elevate them to their true and noble    
service4 ,seek not that your sons and   
your daughters should not see visions1  
should not dream dreams2 seek that they 
should see true visions1 that they      
should dream noble dreams4 ,such        
out-going of the imagination is one with
 aspiration1 and will do more to elevate
 above what is low and vile than all    
possible inculcations of morality4 ,nor 

can religion herself ever rise up into  
her own calm home1 her crystal shrine1  
when one of her wings1 one of the twain 
with which she flies1 is thus broken or 
paralyzed4    8,the universe is         
infinitely wide1   ,and conquering      
,reason1 if self-glorified1   ,can      
nowhere move uncrossed by some new wall 
,or gulf of mystery1 which thou alone1  
,imaginative ,faith6 canst overleap1    
,in progress towards the fount of love40
  ,the danger that lies in the          
repression of the imagination may be    
well illustrated from the play of       
8,macbeth40 ,the imagination of the hero
 7in him a powerful faculty71           
representing how the deed would appear  
to others1 and so representing its true 
nature to himself1 was his great        
impediment on the path to crime4 ,nor   
would he have succeeded in reaching it1 
had he not gone to his wife for         
help--sought refuge from his troublesome
 imagination with her4 ,she1 possessing 
far less of the faculty1 and having     

dealt more destructively with what she  
had1 took his hand1 and led him to the  
deed4 ,from her imagination1 again1 she 
for her part takes refuge in unbelief   
and denial1 declaring to herself and her
 husband that there is no reality in its
 representations2 that there is no      
reality in anything beyond the present  
effect it produces on the mind upon     
which it operates2 that intellect and   
courage are equal to any1 even an evil  
emergency2 and that no harm will come to
 those who can rule themselves according
 to their own will4 ,still1 however1    
finding her imagination1 and yet more   
that of her husband1 troublesome1 she   
effects a marvellous combination of     
materialism and idealism1 and asserts   
that things are not1 cannot be1 and     
shall not be more or other than people  
choose to think them4 ,she says1--      
8,these deeds must not be thought       
,after these ways2 so1 it will make us  
mad40                 8,the sleeping and
 the dead   ,are but as pictures40  ,but

 she had over-estimated the power of her
 will1 and under-estimated that of her  
imagination4 ,her will was the one thing
 in her that was bad1 without root or   
support in the universe1 while her      
imagination was the voice of ,god       
himself out of her own unknown being4   
,the choice of no man or woman can long 
determine how or what he or she shall   
think of things4 ,lady ,macbeth's       
imagination would not be repressed      
beyond its appointed period--a time     
determined by laws of her being over    
which she had no control4 ,it arose1 at 
length1 as from the dead1 overshadowing 
her with all the blackness of her crime4
 ,the woman who drank strong drink that 
she might murder1 dared not sleep       
without a light by her bed2 rose and    
walked in the night1 a sleepless spirit 
in a sleeping body1 rubbing the spotted 
hand of her dreams1 which1 often as     
water had cleared it of the deed1 yet   
smelt so in her sleeping nostrils1 that 
all the perfumes of ,arabia would not   

sweeten it4 ,thus her long down-trodden 
imagination rose and took vengeance1    
even through those senses which she had 
thought to subordinate to her wicked    
will4  ,but all this is of the          
imagination itself1 and fitter1         
therefore1 for illustration than for    
argument4 ,let us come to facts4--,dr4  
,pritchard1 lately executed for murder1 
had no lack of that invention1 which is1
 as it were1 the intellect of the       
imagination--its lowest form4 ,one of   
the clergymen who1 at his own request1  
attended the prisoner1 went through     
indescribable horrors in the vain       
endeavour to induce the man simply to   
cease from lying3 one invention after   
another followed the most earnest       
asseverations of truth4 ,the effect     
produced upon us by this clergyman's    
report of his experience was a moral    
dismay1 such as we had never felt with  
regard to human being1 and drew from us 
the exclamation1 8,the man could have   
had no imagination40 ,the reply was1    

8,none whatever40 ,never seeking true or
 high things1 caring only for           
appearances1 and1 therefore1 for        
inventions1 he had left his imagination 
all undeveloped1 and when it represented
 his own inner condition to him1 had    
repressed it until it was nearly        
destroyed1 and what remained of it was  
set on fire of hell4 ,footnote3 ,one of 
the best weekly papers in ,london1      
evidently as much in ignorance of the   
man as of the facts of the case1 spoke  
of ,dr4 ,mac,leod as having been engaged
 in 8white-washing the murderer for     
heaven40 ,so far is this from a true    
representation1 that ,dr4 ,mac,leod     
actually refused to pray with him1      
telling him that if there was a hell to 
go to1 he must go to it4  ,man is 8the  
roof and crown of things40 ,he is the   
world1 and more4 ,therefore the chief   
scope of his imagination1 next to ,god  
who made him1 will he the world in      
relation to his own life therein4 ,will 
he do better or worse in it if this     

imagination1 touched to fine issues and 
having free scope1 present him with     
noble pictures of relationship and duty1
 of possible elevation of character and 
attainable justice of behaviour1 of     
friendship and of love2 and1 above all1 
of all these in that life to understand 
which as a whole1 must ever be the      
loftiest aspiration of this noblest     
power of humanity8 ,will a woman lead a 
more or a less troubled life that the   
sights and sounds of nature break       
through the crust of gathering anxiety1 
and remind her of the peace of the      
lilies and the well-being of the birds  
of the air8 ,or will life be less       
interesting to her1 that the lives of   
her neighbours1 instead of passing like 
shadows upon a wall1 assume a consistent
 wholeness1 forming themselves into     
stories and phases of life8 ,will she   
not hereby love more and talk less8 ,or 
will she be more unlikely to make a good
 match----8 ,but here we arrest         
ourselves in bewilderment over the word 

good1 and seek to re-arrange our        
thoughts4 ,if what mothers mean by a    
good match1 is the alliance of a man of 
position and means--or let them throw   
intellect1 manners1 and personal        
advantages into the same scale--if this 
be all1 then we grant the daughter of   
cultivated imagination may not be       
manageable1 will probably be obstinate4 
8,we hope she will be obstinate enough4 
,footnote3 ,let women who feel the      
wrongs of their kind teach women to be  
high-minded in their relation to men1   
and they will do more for the social    
elevation of women1 and the             
establishment of their rights1 whatever 
those rights may be1 than by any amount 
of intellectual development or assertion
 of equality4 ,nor1 if they are other   
than mere partisans1 will they refuse   
the attempt because in its success men  
will1 after all1 be equal1 if not       
greater gainers1 if only thereby they   
should be 8feelingly persuaded0 what    
they are4 ,but will the girl be less    

likely to marry a gentleman1 in the     
grand old meaning of the sixteenth      
century8 when it was no irreverence to  
call our ,lord    8,the first true      
gentleman that ever breathed20  or in   
that of the fourteenth8--when ,chaucer  
teaching 8whom is worthy to be called   
gentill10 writes thus3--    8,the first 
stocke was full of rightwisnes1   ,trewe
 of his worde1 sober1 pitous and free1  
,clene of his goste1 and loved          
besinesse1   ,against the vice of slouth
 in honeste2   ,and but his heire love  
vertue as did he1   ,he is not gentill  
though he rich seme1   ,all weare he    
miter1 crowne1 or diademe40  ,will she  
be less likely to marry one who honours 
women1 and for their sakes1 as well as  
his own1 honours himself8 ,or to speak  
from what many would regard as the      
mother's side of the question--will the 
girl be more likely1 because of such a  
culture of her imagination1 to refuse   
the wise1 true-hearted1 generous rich   
man1 and fall in love with the talking1 

verse-making fool1 because he is poor1  
as if that were a virtue for which he   
had striven8 ,the highest imagination   
and the lowliest common sense are always
 on one side4  ,for the end of          
imagination is harmony4 ,a right        
imagination1 being the reflex of the    
creation1 will fall in with the divine  
order of things as the highest form of  
its own operation2 8will tune its       
instrument here at the door0 to the     
divine harmonies within2 will be content
 alone with growth towards the divine   
idea1 which includes all that is        
beautiful in the imperfect imaginations 
of men2 will know that every deviation  
from that growth is downward2 and will  
therefore send the man forth from its   
loftiest representations to do the      
commonest duty of the most wearisome    
calling in a hearty and hopeful spirit4 
,this is the work of the right          
imagination2 and towards this work every
 imagination1 in proportion to the      
rightness that is in it1 will tend4 ,the

 reveries even of the wise man will make
 him stronger for his work2 his dreaming
 as well as his thinking will render him
 sorry for past failure1 and hopeful of 
future success4  ,to come now to the    
culture of the imagination4 ,its        
development is one of the main ends of  
the divine education of life with all   
its efforts and experiences4 ,therefore 
the first and essential means for its   
culture must be an ordering of our life 
towards harmony with its ideal in the   
mind of ,god4 ,as he that is willing to 
do the will of the ,father1 shall know  
of the doctrine1 so1 we doubt not1 he   
that will do the will of ,,the ,,poet1  
shall behold the ,beautiful4 ,for all is
 ,god's2 and the man who is growing into
 harmony with ,his will1 is growing into
 harmony with himself2 all the hidden   
glories of his being are coming out into
 the light of humble consciousness2 so  
that at the last he shall be a pure     
microcosm1 faithfully reflecting1 after 
his manner1 the mighty macrocosm4 ,we   

believe1 therefore1 that nothing will do
 so much for the intellect or the       
imagination as being good--we do not    
mean after any formula or any creed1 but
 simply after the faith of ,him who did 
the will of his ,father in heaven4  ,but
 if we speak of direct means for the    
culture of the imagination1 the whole is
 comprised in two words--food and       
exercise4 ,if you want strong arms1 take
 animal food1 and row4 ,feed your       
imagination with food convenient for it1
 and exercise it1 not in the contortions
 of the acrobat1 but in the movements of
 the gymnast4 ,and first for the food4  
,goethe has told us that the way to     
develop the aesthetic faculty is to have
 constantly before our eyes1 that is1 in
 the room we most frequent1 some work of
 the best attainable art4 ,this will    
teach us to refuse the evil and choose  
the good4 ,it will plant itself in our  
minds and become our counsellor4        
,involuntarily1 unconsciously1 we shall 
compare with its perfection everything  

that comes before us for judgment4 ,now1
 although no better advice could be     
given1 it involves one danger1 that of  
narrowness4 ,and not easily1 in dread of
 this danger1 would one change his      
tutor1 and so procure variety of        
instruction4 ,but in the culture of the 
imagination1 books1 although not the    
only1 are the readiest means of         
supplying the food convenient for it1   
and a hundred books may be had where    
even one work of art of the right sort  
is unattainable1 seeing such must be of 
some size as well as of thorough        
excellence4 ,and in variety alone is    
safety from the danger of the convenient
 food becoming the inconvenient model4  
,let us suppose1 then1 that one who     
himself justly estimates the imagination
 is anxious to develop its operation in 
his child4 ,no doubt the best beginning1
 especially if the child be young1 is an
 acquaintance with nature1 in which let 
him be encouraged to observe vital      
phenomena1 to put things together1 to   

speculate from what he sees to what he  
does not see4 ,but let earnest care be  
taken that upon no matter shall he go on
 talking foolishly4 ,let him be as      
fanciful as he may1 but let him not1    
even in his fancy1 sin against fancy's  
sense2 for fancy has its laws as        
certainly as the most ordinary business 
of life4 ,when he is silly1 let him know
 it and be ashamed4  ,but where this    
association with nature is but          
occasionally possible1 recourse must be 
had to literature4 ,in books1 we not    
only have store of all results of the   
imagination1 but in them1 as in her     
workshop1 we may behold her embodying   
before our very eyes1 in music of       
speech1 in wonder of words1 till her    
work1 like a golden dish set with       
shining jewels1 and adorned by the hands
 of the cunning workmen1 stands finished
 before us4 ,in this kind1 then1 the    
best must be set before the learner1    
that he may eat and not be satisfied2   
for the finest products of the          

imagination are of the best nourishment 
for the beginnings of that imagination4 
,and the mind of the teacher must       
mediate between the work of art and the 
mind of the pupil1 bringing them        
together in the vital contact of        
intelligence2 directing the observation 
to the lines of expression1 the points  
of force2 and helping the mind to repose
 upon the whole1 so that no separable   
beauties shall lead to a neglect of the 
scope--that is the shape or form        
complete4 ,and ever he must seek to show
 excellence rather than talk about it1  
giving the thing itself1 that it may    
grow into the mind1 and not a eulogy of 
his own upon the thing2 isolating the   
point worthy of remark rather than      
making many remarks upon the point4     
,especially must he endeavour to show   
the spiritual scaffolding or skeleton of
 any work of art2 those main ideas upon 
which the shape is constructed1 and     
around which the rest group as          
ministering dependencies4  ,but he will 

not1 therefore1 pass over that          
intellectual structure without which the
 other could not be manifested4 ,he will
 not forget the builder while he admires
 the architect4 ,while he dwells with   
delight on the relation of the peculiar 
arch to the meaning of the whole        
cathedral1 he will not think it needless
 to explain the principles on which it  
is constructed1 or even how those       
principles are carried out in actual    
process4 ,neither yet will the tracery  
of its windows1 the foliage of its      
crockets1 or the fretting of its        
mouldings be forgotten4 ,every beauty   
will have its word1 only all beauties   
will be subordinated to the final       
beauty--that is1 the unity of the whole4
  ,thus doing1 he shall perform the true
 office of friendship4 ,he will         
introduce his pupil into the society    
which he himself prizes most1           
surrounding him with the genial presence
 of the high-minded1 that this good     
company may work its own kind in him who

 frequents it4  ,but he will likewise   
seek to turn him aside from such        
company1 whether of books or of men1 as 
might tend to lower his reverence1 his  
choice1 or his standard4 ,he will1      
therefore1 discourage indiscriminate    
reading1 and that worse than waste which
 consists in skimming the books of a    
circulating library4 ,he knows that if a
 book is worth reading at all1 it is    
worth reading well2 and that1 if it is  
not worth reading1 it is only to the    
most accomplished reader that it can be 
worth skimming4 ,he will seek to make   
him discern1 not merely between the good
 and the evil1 but between the good and 
the not so good4 ,and this not for the  
sake of sharpening the intellect1 still 
less of generating that                 
self-satisfaction which is the closest  
attendant upon criticism1 but for the   
sake of choosing the best path and the  
best companions upon it4 ,a spirit of   
criticism for the sake of distinguishing
 only1 or1 far worse1 for the sake of   

having one's opinion ready upon demand1 
is not merely repulsive to all true     
thinkers1 but is1 in itself1 destructive
 of all thinking4 ,a spirit of criticism
 for the sake of the truth--a spirit    
that does not start from its chamber at 
every noise1 but waits till its presence
 is desired--cannot1 indeed1 garnish the
 house1 but can sweep it clean4 ,were   
there enough of such wise criticism1    
there would be ten times the study of   
the best writers of the past1 and       
perhaps one-tenth of the admiration for 
the ephemeral productions of the day4 ,a
 gathered mountain of misplaced worships
 would be swept into the sea by the     
study of one good book2 and while what  
was good in an inferior book would still
 be admired1 the relative position of   
the book would be altered and its       
influence lessened4  ,speaking of true  
learning1 ,lord ,bacon says3 8,it taketh
 away vain admiration of anything1 which
 is the root of all weakness40  ,the    
right teacher would have his pupil easy 

to please1 but ill to satisfy2 ready to 
enjoy1 unready to embrace2 keen to      
discover beauty1 slow to say1 8,here ,i 
will dwell40  ,but he will not confine  
his instructions to the region of art4  
,he will encourage him to read history  
with an eye eager for the dawning figure
 of the past4 ,he will especially show  
him that a great part of the ,bible is  
only thus to be understood2 and that the
 constant and consistent way of ,god1 to
 be discovered in it1 is in fact the key
 to all history4  ,in the history of    
individuals1 as well1 he will try to    
show him how to put sign and token      
together1 constructing not indeed a     
whole1 but a probable suggestion of the 
whole4  ,and1 again1 while showing him  
the reflex of nature in the poets1 he   
will not be satisfied without sending   
him to ,nature herself2 urging him in   
country rambles to keep open eyes for   
the sweet fashionings and blendings of  
her operation around him2 and in city   
walks to watch the 8human face divine40 

,once more3 he will point out to him the
 essential difference between reverie   
and thought2 between dreaming and       
imagining4 ,he will teach him not to    
mistake fancy1 either in himself or in  
others for imagination1 and to beware of
 hunting after resemblances that carry  
with them no interpretation4  ,such     
training is not solely fitted for the   
possible development of artistic        
faculty4 ,few1 in this world1 will ever 
be able to utter what they feel4 ,fewer 
still will be able to utter it in forms 
of their own4 ,nor is it necessary that 
there should be many such4 ,but it is   
necessary that all should feel4 ,it is  
necessary that all should understand and
 imagine the good2 that all should      
begin1 at least1 to follow and find out 
,god4  8,the glory of ,god is to conceal
 a thing1 but the glory of the king is  
to find it out10 says ,solomon4 8,as    
if10 remarks ,bacon on the passage1     
8according to the innocent play of      
children1 the ,divine ,majesty took     

delight to hide his works1 to the end to
 have them found out2 and as if kings   
could not obtain a greater honour than  
to be ,god's playfellows in that game40 
,one more quotation from the book of    
,ecclesiastes1 setting forth both the   
necessity we are under to imagine1 and  
the comfort that our imagining cannot   
outstrip ,god's making4  8,i have seen  
the travail which ,god hath given to the
 sons of men to be exercised in it4 ,he 
hath made everything beautiful in his   
time2 also he hath set the world in     
their heart1 so that no man can find out
 the work that ,god maketh from the     
beginning to the end40  ,thus to be     
playfellows with ,god in this game1 the 
little ones may gather their daisies and
 follow their painted moths2 the child  
of the kingdom may pore upon the lilies 
of the field1 and gather faith as the   
birds of the air their food from the    
leafless hawthorn1 ruddy with the stores
 ,god has laid up for them2 and the man 
of science        8,may sit and rightly 

spell   ,of every star that heaven doth 
shew1   ,and every herb that sips the   
dew2   ,till old experience do attain   
,to something like prophetic strain40   
,a ,,sketch ,,of ,,individual           
,,development4   ,footnote3 #ahhj4  8,i 
wish ,i had thought to watch when ,god  
was making me60 said a child once to his
 mother4 8,only10 he added1 8,i was not 
made till ,i was finished1 so ,i        
couldn't40 ,we cannot recall whence we  
came1 nor tell how we began to be4 ,we  
know approximately how far back we can  
remember1 but have no idea how far back 
we may not have forgotten4 ,certainly we
 knew once much that we have forgotten  
now4 ,my own earliest definable memory  
is of a great funeral of one of the     
,dukes of ,gordon1 when ,i was between  
two and three years of age4 ,surely my  
first knowledge was not of death4 ,i    
must have known much and many things    
before1 although that seems my earliest 
memory4 ,as in what we foolishly call   
maturity1 so in the dawn of             

consciousness1 both before and after it 
has begun to be buttressed with         
self-consciousness1 each succeeding     
consciousness dims--often               
obliterates--that which went before1 and
 with regard to our past as well as our 
future1 imagination and faith must step 
into the place vacated of knowledge4 ,we
 are aware1 and we know that we are     
aware1 but when or how we began to be   
aware1 is wrapt in a mist that deepens  
on the one side into deepest night1 and 
on the other brightens into the full    
assurance of existence4 ,looking back we
 can but dream1 looking forward we lose 
ourselves in speculation2 but we may    
both speculate and dream1 for all       
speculation is not false1 and all       
dreaming is not of the unreal4 ,what may
 we fairly imagine as to the inward     
condition of the child before the first 
moment of which his memory affords him  
testimony8  ,it is one1 ,i venture to   
say1 of absolute1 though1 no doubt1     
largely negative faith4 ,neither memory 

of pain that is past1 nor apprehension  
of pain to come1 once arises to give him
 the smallest concern4 ,in some way1    
doubtless very vague1 for his being     
itself is a border-land of awful        
mystery1 he is aware of being           
surrounded1 enfolded with an atmosphere 
of love2 the sky over him is his        
mother's face2 the earth that nourishes 
him is his mother's bosom4 ,the source1 
the sustentation1 the defence of his    
being1 the endless mediation betwixt his
 needs and the things that supply them1 
are all one4 ,there is no type so near  
the highest idea of relation to a ,god1 
as that of the child to his mother4 ,her
 face is ,god1 her bosom ,nature1 her   
arms are ,providence--all love--one     
love--to him an undivided bliss4  ,the  
region beyond him he regards from this  
vantage-ground of unquestioned security4
 ,there things may come and go1 rise and
 vanish--he neither desires nor bemoans 
them4 ,change may grow swift1 its       
swiftness grow fierce1 and pass into    

storm3 to him storm is calm2 his haven  
is secure2 his rest cannot be broken3 he
 is accountable for nothing1 knows no   
responsibility4 ,conscience is not yet  
awake1 and there is no conflict4 ,his   
waking is full of sleep1 yet his very   
being is enough for him4  ,but all the  
time his mother lives in the hope of his
 growth4 ,in the present babe1 her heart
 broods over the coming boy--the unknown
 marvel closed in the visible germ4 ,let
 mothers lament as they will over the   
change from childhood to maturity1 which
 of them would not grow weary of nursing
 for ever a child in whom no live law of
 growth kept unfolding an infinite      
change6 ,the child knows nothing of     
growth--desires none--but grows4 ,within
 him is the force of a power he can no  
more resist than the peach can refuse to
 swell and grow ruddy in the sun4 ,by   
slow1 inappreciable1 indivisible        
accretion and outfolding1 he is lifted1 
floated1 drifted on towards the face of 
the awful mirror in which he must       

encounter his first foe--must front     
himself4  ,by degrees he has learned    
that the world is around1 and not within
 him--that he is apart1 and that is     
apart2 from consciousness he passes to  
self-consciousness4 ,this is a second   
birth1 for now a higher life begins4    
,when a man not only lives1 but knows   
that he lives1 then first the           
possibility of a real life commences4   
,by real life1 ,i mean life which has a 
share in its own existence4  ,for now1  
towards the world around him--the world 
that is not his mother1 and1 actively at
 least1 neither loves him nor ministers 
to him1 reveal themselves certain       
relations1 initiated by fancies1        
desires1 preferences1 that arise within 
himself--reasonable or not matters      
little3--founded in reason1 they can in 
no case be devoid of reason4 ,every     
object concerned in these relations     
presents itself to the man as lovely1   
desirable1 good1 or ugly1 hateful1 bad2 
and through these relations1 obscure and

 imperfect1 and to a being weighted with
 a strong faculty for mistake1 begins to
 be revealed the existence and force of 
,being other and higher than his own1   
recognized as ,will1 and first of all in
 its opposition to his desires4         
,thereupon begins the strife without    
which there never was1 and1 ,i presume1 
never can be1 any growth1 any progress2 
and the first result is what ,i may call
 the third birth of the human being4    
,the first opposing glance of the mother
 wakes in the child not only answering  
opposition1 which is as the rudimentary 
sac of his own coming will1 but a new   
something1 to which for long he needs no
 name1 so natural does it seem1 so      
entirely a portion of his being1 even   
when most he refuses to listen to and   
obey it4 ,this new something--we call it
 ,conscience--sides with his mother1 and
 causes its presence and judgment to be 
felt not only before but after the      
event1 so that he soon comes to know    
that it is well with him or ill with him

 as he obeys or disobeys it4 ,and now he
 not only knows1 not only knows that he 
knows1 but knows he knows that he       
knows--knows that he is                 
self-conscious--that he has a           
conscience4 ,with the first sense of    
resistance to it1 the power above him   
has drawn nearer1 and the deepest within
 him has declared itself on the side of 
the highest without him4 ,at one and the
 same moment1 the heaven of his         
childhood has1 as it were1 receded and  
come nigher4 ,he has run from under it1 
but it claims him4 ,it is farther1 yet  
closer--immeasurably closer3 he feels on
 his being the grasp and hold of his    
mother's4 ,through the higher           
individuality he becomes aware of his   
own4 ,through the assertion of his      
mother's will1 his own begins to awake4 
,he becomes conscious of himself as     
capable of action--of doing or of not   
doing2 his responsibility has begun4    
,he slips from her lap2 he travels from 
chair to chair2 he puts his circle round

 the room2 he dares to cross the        
threshold2 he braves the precipice of   
the stair2 he takes the greatest step   
that1 according to ,george ,herbert1 is 
possible to man--that out of doors1     
changing the house for the universe2 he 
runs from flower to flower in the       
garden2 crosses the road2 wanders1 is   
lost1 is found again4 ,his powers       
expand1 his activity increases2 he goes 
to school1 and meets other boys like    
himself2 new objects of strife are      
discovered1 new elements of strife      
developed2 new desires are born1 fresh  
impulses urge4 ,the old heaven1 the face
 and will of his mother1 recede farther 
and farther2 a world of men1 which he   
foolishly thinks a nobler as it is a    
larger world1 draws him1 claims him4    
,more or less he yields4 ,the example   
and influence of such as seem to him    
more than his mother like himself1 grow 
strong upon him4 ,his conscience speaks 
louder4 ,and here1 even at this early   
point in his history1 what ,i might call

 his fourth birth may begin to take     
place3 ,i mean the birth in him of the  
,will--the real ,will--not the          
pseudo-will1 which is the mere ,desire1 
swayed of impulse1 selfishness1 or one  
of many a miserable motive4 ,when the   
man1 listening to his conscience1 wills 
and does the right1 irrespective of     
inclination as of consequence1 then is  
the man free1 the universe open before  
him4 ,he is born from above4 ,to him    
conscience needs never speak aloud1     
needs never speak twice2 to him her     
voice never grows less powerful1 for he 
never neglects what she commands4 ,and  
when he becomes aware that he can will  
his will1 that ,god has given him a     
share in essential life1 in the         
causation of his own being1 then is he a
 man indeed4 ,i say1 even here this     
birth may begin2 but with most it takes 
years not a few to complete it4 ,for1   
the power of the mother having waned1   
the power of the neighbour is waxing4   
,if the boy be of common clay1 that is1 

of clay willing to accept dishonour1    
this power of the neighbour over him    
will increase and increase1 till        
individuality shall have vanished from  
him1 and what his friends1 what society1
 what the trade or the profession say1  
will be to him the rule of life4 ,with  
such1 however1 ,i have to do no more    
than with the deaf dead1 who sleep too  
deep for words to reach them4  ,my      
typical child of man is not of such4 ,he
 is capable not of being influenced     
merely1 but of influencing--and first of
 all of influencing himself2 of taking a
 share in his own making2 of determining
 actively1 not by mere passivity1 what  
he shall be and become2 for he never    
ceases to pay at least a little heed1   
however poor and intermittent1 to the   
voice of his conscience1 and to-day he  
pays more heed than he did yesterday4   
,long ere now the joy of space1 of room1
 has laid hold upon him--the more       
powerfully if he inhabit a wild and     
broken region4 ,the human animal        

delights in motion and change1 motions  
of his members even violent1 and        
swiftest changes of place4 ,it is as if 
he would lay hold of the infinite by    
ceaseless abandonment and choice of a   
never-abiding stand-point1 as if he     
would lay hold of strength by the       
consciousness of the strength he has4   
,he is full of unrest4 ,he must know    
what lies on the farther shore of every 
river1 see how the world looks from     
every hill3 ,what is behind8 ,what is   
beyond8 is his constant cry4 ,to learn1 
to gather into himself1 is his longing4 
,nor do many years pass thus1 it may be 
not many months1 ere the world begins to
 come alive around him4 ,he begins to   
feel that the stars are strange1 that   
the moon is sad1 that the sunrise is    
mighty4 ,he begins to see in them all   
the something men call beauty4 ,he will 
lie on the sunny bank and gaze into the 
blue heaven till his soul seems to float
 abroad and mingle with the infinite    
made visible1 with the boundless        

condensed into colour and shape4 ,the   
rush of the water through the still     
twilight1 under the faint gleam of the  
exhausted west1 makes in his ears a     
melody he is almost aware he cannot     
understand4 ,dissatisfied with his      
emotions he desires a deeper waking1    
longs for a greater beauty1 is troubled 
with the stirring in his bosom of an    
unknown ideal of ,nature4 ,nor is it an 
ideal of ,nature alone that is forming  
within him4 ,a far more precious thing1 
a human ideal namely1 is in his soul1   
gathering to itself shape and           
consistency4 ,the wind that at night    
fills him with sadness--he cannot tell  
why1 in the daytime haunts him like a   
wild consciousness of strength which has
 neither difficulty nor danger enough to
 spend itself upon4 ,he would be a      
champion of the weak1 a friend to the   
great2 for both he would fight--a       
merciless foe to every oppressor of his 
kind4 ,he would be rich that he might   
help1 strong that he might rescue1      

brave--that he counts himself already1  
for he has not proved his own weakness4 
,in the first encounter he fails1 and   
the bitter cup of shame and confusion of
 face1 wholesome and saving1 is handed  
him from the well of life4 ,he is not   
yet capable of understanding that one   
such as he1 filled with the glory and   
not the duty of victory1 could not but  
fail1 and therefore ought to fail2 but  
his dismay and chagrin are soothed by   
the forgetfulness the days and nights   
bring1 gently wiping out the sins that  
are past1 that the young life may have a
 fresh chance1 as we say1 and begin     
again unburdened by the weight of a too 
much present failure4  ,and now1        
probably at school1 or in the first     
months of his college-life1 a new phase 
of experience begins4 ,he has wandered  
over the border of what is commonly     
called science1 and the marvel of facts 
multitudinous1 strung upon the golden   
threads of law1 has laid hold upon him4 
,his intellect is seized and possessed  

by a new spirit4 ,for a time knowledge  
is pride2 the mere consciousness of     
knowing is the reward of its labour2 the
 ever recurring1 ever passing contact of
 mind with a new fact is a joy full of  
excitement1 and promises an endless     
delight4 ,but ever the thing that is    
known sinks into insignificance1 save as
 a step of the endless stair on which he
 is climbing--whither he knows not2 the 
unknown draws him2 the new fact touches 
his mind1 flames up in the contact1 and 
drops dark1 a mere fact1 on the heap    
below4 ,even the grandeur of law as law1
 so far from adding fresh consciousness 
to his life1 causes it no small         
suffering and loss4 ,for at the entrance
 of ,science1 nobly and gracefully as   
she bears herself1 young ,poetry shrinks
 back startled1 dismayed4 ,poetry is    
true as ,science1 and ,science is holy  
as ,poetry2 but young ,poetry is timid  
and ,science is fearless1 and bears with
 her a colder atmosphere than the other 
has yet learned to brave4 ,it is not    

that ,madam ,science shows any          
antagonism to ,lady ,poetry2 but the    
atmosphere and plane on which alone they
 can meet as friends who understand each
 other1 is the mind and heart of the    
sage1 not of the boy4 ,the youth gazes  
on the face of ,science1 cold1 clear1   
beautiful2 then1 turning1 looks for his 
friend--but1 alas6 ,poetry has fled4    
,with a great pang at the heart he      
rushes abroad to find her1 but descries 
only the rainbow glimmer of her skirt on
 the far horizon4 ,at night1 in his     
dreams1 she returns1 but never for a    
season may he look on her face of       
loveliness4 ,what1 alas6 have           
evaporation1 caloric1 atmosphere1       
refraction1 the prism1 and the second   
planet of our system1 to do with 8sad   
,hesper o'er the buried sun80 ,from     
quantitative analysis how shall he turn 
again to 8the rime of the ancient       
mariner10 and 8the moving moon0 that    
8went up the sky1 and nowhere did       
abide08 ,from his window he gazes across

 the sands to the mightily troubled     
ocean3 8,what is the storm to me any    
more60 he cries2 8it is but the clashing
 of countless water-drops60 ,he finds   
relief in the discovery that1 the moment
 you place man in the midst of it1 the  
clashing of water-drops becomes a storm1
 terrible to heart and brain3 human     
thought and feeling1 hope1 fear1 love1  
sacrifice1 make the motions of nature   
alive with mystery and the shadows of   
destiny4 ,the relief1 however1 is but   
partial1 and may be but temporary2 for  
what if this mingling of man and ,nature
 in the mind of man be but the casting  
of a coloured shadow over her cold      
indifference8 ,what if she means        
nothing--never was meant to mean        
anything6 ,what if in truth 8we receive 
but what we give1 and in our life alone 
doth ,nature live60 ,what if the        
language of metaphysics as well as of   
poetry be drawn1 not from ,nature at    
all1 but from human fancy concerning    
her6  ,at length1 from the unknown1     

whence himself he came1 appears an angel
 to deliver him from this horror--this  
stony look--ah1 ,god6 of soulless law4  
,the woman is on her way whose part it  
is to meet him with a life other than   
his own1 at once the complement of his1 
and the visible presentment of that in  
it which is beyond his own              
understanding4 ,the enchantment of what 
we specially call love is upon him--a   
deceiving glamour1 say some1 showing    
what is not1 an opening of the eyes1 say
 others1 revealing that of which a man  
had not been aware3 men will still be   
divided into those who believe that the 
horses of fire and the chariots of fire 
are ever present at their need of them1 
and those who class the prophet and the 
drunkard in the same category as the    
fools of their own fancies4 ,but what   
this love is1 he who thinks he knows    
least understands4 ,let foolish maidens 
and vulgar youths simper and jest over  
it as they please1 it is one of the most
 potent mysteries of the living ,god4   

,the man who can love a woman and remain
 a lover of his wretched self1 is fit   
only to be cast out with the broken     
potsherds of the city1 as one in whom   
the very salt has lost its savour4 ,with
 this love in his heart1 a man puts on  
at least the vision robes of the seer1  
if not the singing robes of the poet4   
,be he the paltriest human animal that  
ever breathed1 for the time1 and in his 
degree1 he rises above himself4 ,his    
nature so far clarifies itself1 that    
here and there a truth of the great     
world will penetrate1 sorely dimmed1    
through the fog-laden1 self-shadowed    
atmosphere of his microcosm4 ,for the   
time1 ,i repeat1 he is not a lover only1
 but something of a friend1 with a      
reflex touch of his own far-off         
childhood4 ,to the youth of my history1 
in the light of his love--a light that  
passes outward from the eyes of the     
lover--the world grows alive again1 yea 
radiant as an infinite face4 ,he sees   
the flowers as he saw them in boyhood1  

recovering from an illness of all the   
winter1 only they have a yet deeper     
glow1 a yet fresher delight1 a yet more 
unspeakable soul4 ,he becomes pitiful   
over them1 and not willingly breaks     
their stems1 to hurt the life he more   
than half believes they share with him4 
,he cannot think anything created only  
for him1 any more than only for itself4 
,nature is no longer a mere contention  
of forces1 whose heaven and whose hell  
in one is the dull peace of an          
equilibrium2 but a struggle1 through    
splendour of colour1 graciousness of    
form1 and evasive vitality of motion and
 sound1 after an utterance hard to find1
 and never found but marred by the      
imperfection of the small and weak that 
would embody and set forth the great and
 mighty4 ,the waving of the tree-tops is
 the billowy movement of a hidden       
delight4 ,the sun lifts his head with   
intent to be glorious4 ,no day lasts too
 long1 no night comes too soon3 the     
twilight is woven of shadowy arms that  

draw the loving to the bosom of the     
,night4 ,in the woman1 the infinite     
after which he thirsts is given him for 
his own4  ,man's occupation with himself
 turns his eyes from the great life     
beyond his threshold3 when love awakes1 
he forgets himself for a time1 and many 
a glimpse of strange truth finds its way
 through his windows1 blocked no longer 
by the shadow of himself4 ,he may now   
catch even a glimpse of the             
possibilities of his own being--may     
dimly perceive for a moment the image   
after which he was made4 ,but alas6 too 
soon1 self1 radiant of darkness1 awakes2
 every window becomes opaque with       
shadow1 and the man is again a prisoner4
 ,for it is not the highest word alone  
that the cares of this world1 the       
deceitfulness of riches1 and the lust of
 other things entering in1 choke1 and   
render unfruitful4 ,waking from the     
divine vision1 if that can be called    
waking which is indeed dying into the   
common day1 the common man regards it   

straightway as a foolish dream2 the wise
 man believes in it still1 holds fast by
 the memory of the vanished glory1 and  
looks to have it one day again a present
 portion of the light of his life4 ,he  
knows that1 because of the imperfection 
and dulness and weakness of his nature1 
after every vision follow the inclosing 
clouds1 with the threat of an ever      
during dark2 knows that1 even if the    
vision could tarry1 it were not well1   
for the sake of that which must yet be  
done with him1 yet be made of him1 that 
it should tarry4 ,but the youth whose   
history ,i am following is not like the 
former1 nor as yet like the latter4     
,from whatever cause1 then1 whether of  
fault1 of natural law1 or of supernal   
will1 the flush that seemed to promise  
the dawn of an eternal day1 shrinks and 
fades1 though1 with him1 like the       
lagging skirt of the sunset in the      
northern west1 it does not vanish1 but  
travels on1 a withered pilgrim1 all the 
night1 at the long last to rise the     

aureole of the eternal ,aurora4 ,and now
 new paths entice him--or old paths     
opening fresh horizons4 ,with stronger  
thews and keener nerves he turns again  
to the visible around him4 ,the         
changelessness amid change1 the law amid
 seeming disorder1 the unity amid units1
 draws him again4 ,he begins to descry  
the indwelling poetry of science4 ,the  
untiring forces at work in measurable   
yet inconceivable spaces of time and    
room1 fill his soul with an awe that    
threatens to uncreate him with a sense  
of littleness2 while1 on the other side1
 the grandeur of their operations fills 
him with such an informing glory1 the   
mere presence of the mighty facts1 that 
he no more thinks of himself1 but in    
humility is great1 and knows it not4    
,rapt spectator1 seer entranced under   
the magic wand of ,science1 he beholds  
the billions of billions of miles of    
incandescent vapour begin a slow1 scarce
 perceptible revolution1 gradually grow 
swift1 and gather an awful speed4 ,he   

sees the vapour1 as it whirls1          
condensing through slow eternities to a 
plastic fluidity4 ,he notes ring after  
ring part from the circumference of the 
mass1 break1 rush together into a globe1
 and the glowing ball keep on through   
space with the speed of its parent bulk4
 ,it cools and still cools and          
condenses1 but still fiercely glows4    
,presently--after tens of thousands of  
years is the creative presently--arises 
fierce contention betwixt the glowing   
heart and its accompanying atmosphere4  
,the latter invades the former with     
antagonistic element4 ,he listens in his
 soul1 and hears the rush of ever       
descending torrent rains1 with the      
continuous roaring shock of their       
evanishment in vapour--to turn again to 
water in the higher regions1 and again  
rush to the attack upon the citadel of  
fire4 ,he beholds the slow victory of   
the water at last1 and the great globe1 
now glooming in a cloak of darkness1    
covered with a wildly boiling sea--not  

boiling by figure of speech1 under      
contending forces of wind and tide1 but 
boiling high as the hills to come1 with 
veritable heat4 ,he sees the rise of the
 wrinkles we call hills and mountains1  
and from their sides the avalanches of  
water to the lower levels4 ,he sees race
 after race of living things appear1 as 
the earth becomes1 for each new and     
higher kind1 a passing home2 and he     
watches the succession of terrible      
convulsions dividing kind from kind1    
until at length the kind he calls his   
own arrives4 ,endless are the visions of
 material grandeur unfathomable1 awaked 
in his soul by the bare facts of        
external existence4  ,but soon comes a  
change4 ,so far as he can see or learn1 
all the motion1 all the seeming dance1  
is but a rush for death1 a panic flight 
into the moveless silence4 ,the summer  
wind1 the tropic tornado1 the softest   
tide1 the fiercest storm1 are alike the 
tumultuous conflict of forces1 rushing1 
and fighting as they rush1 into the arms

 of eternal negation4 ,on and on they   
hurry--down and down1 to a cold stirless
 solidity1 where wind blows not1 water  
flows not1 where the seas are not merely
 tideless and beat no shores1 but frozen
 cleave with frozen roots to their gulfy
 basin4 ,all things are on the          
steep-sloping path to final evanishment1
 uncreation1 non-existence4 ,he is      
filled with horror--not so much of the  
dreary end1 as at the weary hopelessness
 of the path thitherward4 ,then a dim   
light breaks upon him1 and with it a    
faint hope revives1 for he seems to see 
in all the forms of life1 innumerably   
varied1 a spirit rushing upward from    
death--a something in escape from the   
terror of the downward cataract1 of the 
rest that knows not peace4 8,is it not10
 he asks1 8the soaring of the silver    
dove of life from its potsherd-bed--the 
heavenward flight of some higher and    
incorruptible thing8 ,is not vitality1  
revealed in growth1 itself an unending  
resurrection80  ,the vision also of the 

oneness of the universe1 ever           
reappearing through the vapours of      
question1 helps to keep hope alive in   
him4 ,to find1 for instance1 the law of 
the relation of the arrangements of the 
leaves on differing plants1 correspond  
to the law of the relative distances of 
the planets in approach to their central
 sun1 wakes in him that hope of a       
central ,will1 which alone can justify  
one ecstatic throb at any seeming       
loveliness of the universe4 ,for without
 the hope of such a centre1 delight is  
unreason--a mockery not such as the     
skeleton at the ,egyptian feast1 but    
such rather as a crowned corpse at a    
feast of skeletons4 ,life without the   
higher glory of the unspeakable1 the    
atmosphere of a ,god1 is not life1 is   
not worth living4 ,he would rather cease
 to be1 than walk the dull level of the 
commonplace--than live the unideal of   
men in whose company he can take no     
pleasure--men who are as of a lower     
race1 whom he fain would lift1 who will 

not rise1 but for whom as for himself he
 would cherish the hope they do their   
best to kill4 ,those who seem to him    
great1 recognize the unseen--believe the
 roots of science to be therein         
hid--regard the bringing forth into     
sight of the things that are invisible  
as the end of all ,art and every        
art--judge the true leader of men to be 
him who leads them closer to the        
essential facts of their being4 ,alas   
for his love and his hope1 alas for     
himself1 if the visible should exist for
 its own sake only6--if the face of a   
flower means nothing--appeals to no     
region beyond the scope of the science  
that would unveil its growth4 ,he cannot
 believe that its structure exists for  
the sake of its laws2 that would be to  
build for the sake of its joints a      
scaffold where no house was to stand4   
,those who put their faith in ,science  
are trying to live in the scaffold of   
the house invisible4  ,he finds harbour 
and comfort at times in the written     

poetry of his fellows4 ,he delights in  
analyzing and grasping the thought that 
informs the utterance4 ,for a moment1   
the fine figure1 the delicate phrase1   
make him jubilant and strong2 but the   
jubilation and the strength soon pass1  
for it is not any of the forms1 even of 
the thought-forms of truth that can give
 rest to his soul4  ,history attracts   
him little1 for he is not able to       
discover by its records the operation of
 principles yielding hope for his race4 
,such there may be1 but he does not find
 them4 ,what hope for the rising wave   
that knows in its rise only its doom to 
sink1 and at length be dashed on the low
 shore of annihilation8  ,but the time  
would fail me to follow the doubling of 
the soul coursed by the hounds of       
,death1 or to set down the forms        
innumerable in which the golden ,haemony
 springs in its path1                   
,of sovran use   #8,gainst all          
enchantments1 mildew blast1 or damp4    
,and now the shadows are beginning to   

lengthen towards the night1 which1      
whether there be a following morn or no1
 is the night1 and spreads out the wings
 of darkness4 ,and still as it          
approaches the more aware grows the man 
of a want that differs from any feeling 
,i have already sought to describe--a   
sense of insecurity1 in no wise the same
 as the doubt of life beyond the        
grave--a need more profound even than   
that which cries for a living ,nature4  
,and now he plainly knows1 that1 all his
 life1 like a conscious duty            
unfulfilled1 this sense has haunted his 
path1 ever and anon descending and      
clinging1 a cold mist1 about his heart4 
,what if this lack was indeed the root  
of every other anxiety6 ,now freshly    
revived1 this sense of not having1 of   
something1 he knows not what1 for lack  
of which his being is in pain at its own
 incompleteness1 never leaves him more4 
,and with it the terror has returned and
 grows1 lest there should be no ,unseen 
,power1 as his fathers believed1 and his

 mother taught him1 filling all things  
and meaning all things1--no ,power with 
whom1 in his last extremity1 awaits him 
a final refuge4 ,with the quickening    
doubt falls a tenfold blight on the     
world of poetry1 both that in ,nature   
and that in books4 ,far worse than that 
early chill which the assertions of     
science concerning what it knows1 cast  
upon his inexperienced soul1 is now the 
shivering death which its pretended     
denials concerning what it knows not1   
send through all his vital frame4 ,the  
soul departs from the face of beauty1   
when the eye begins to doubt if there be
 any soul behind it2 and now the man    
feels like one ,i knew1 affected with a 
strange disease1 who saw in the living  
face always the face of a corpse4 ,what 
can the world be to him who lives for   
thought1 if there be no supreme and     
perfect ,thought1--none but such poor   
struggles after thought as he finds in  
himself8 ,take the eternal thought from 
the heart of things1 no longer can any  

beauty be real1 no more can shape1      
motion1 aspect of nature have           
significance in itself1 or sympathy with
 human soul4 ,at best and most the      
beauty he thought he saw was but the    
projected perfection of his own being1  
and from himself as the crown and summit
 of things1 the soul of the man shrinks 
with horror3 it is the more imperfect   
being who knows the least his           
incompleteness1 and for whom1 seeing so 
little beyond himself1 it is easiest to 
imagine himself the heart and apex of   
things1 and rejoice in the fancy4 ,the  
killing power of a godless science      
returns upon him with tenfold force4    
,the ocean-tempest is once more a mere  
clashing of innumerable water-drops2 the
 green and amber sadness of the evening 
sky is a mockery of sorrow2 his own soul
 and its sadness is a mockery of        
himself4 ,there is nothing in the       
sadness1 nothing in the mockery4 ,to    
tell him as comfort1 that in his own    
thought lives the meaning if nowhere    

else1 is mockery worst of all2 for if   
there be no truth in them1 if these     
things be no embodiment1 to make them   
serve as such is to put a candle in a   
death's-head to light the dying through 
the place of tombs4 ,to his former      
foolish fancy a primrose might preach a 
childlike trust2 the untoiling lilies   
might from their field cast seeds of a  
higher growth into his troubled heart2  
now they are no better than the colour  
the painter leaves behind him on the    
doorpost of his workshop1 when1 the     
day's labour over1 he wipes his brush on
 it ere he depart for the night4 ,the   
look in the eyes of his dog1 happy in   
that he is short-lived1 is one of       
infinite sadness4 ,all graciousness must
 henceforth be a sorrow3 it has to go   
with the sunsets4 ,that a thing must    
cease takes from it the joy of even an  
aeonian endurance--for its kind is      
mortal2 it belongs to the nature of     
things that cannot live4 ,the sorrow is 
not so much that it shall perish as that

 it could not live--that it is not in   
its nature a real1 that is1 an eternal  
thing4 ,his children are shadows--their 
life a dance1 a sickness1 a corruption4 
,the very element of unselfishness1     
which1 however feeble and beclouded it  
may be1 yet exists in all love1 in      
giving life its only dignity adds to its
 sorrow4 ,nowhere at the root of things 
is love--it is only a something that    
came after1 some sort of fungous        
excrescence in the hearts of men grown  
helplessly superior to their origin4    
,law1 nothing but cold1 impassive1      
material law1 is the root of            
things--lifeless happily1 so not knowing
 itself1 else were it a demon instead of
 a creative nothing4 ,endeavour is      
paralyzed in him4 8,work for posterity10
  says he of the skyless philosophy2    
answers the man1 8,how can ,i work      
without hope8 ,little heart have ,i to  
labour1 where labour is so little help4 
,what can ,i do for my children that    
would render their life less hopeless   

than my own6 ,give me all you would     
secure for them1 and my life would be to
 me but the worse mockery4 ,the true end
 of labour would be1 to lessen the      
number doomed to breathe the breath of  
this despair40  ,straightway he         
developes another and a deeper mood4 ,he
 turns and regards himself4 ,suspicion  
or sudden insight has directed the look4
 ,and there1 in himself1 he discovers   
such imperfection1 such wrong1 such     
shame1 such weakness1 as cause him to   
cry out1 8,it were well ,i should cease6
 ,why should ,i mourn after life8 ,where
 were the good of prolonging it in a    
being like me8 #8,what should such      
fellows as ,i do crawling between heaven
 and earth6'0 ,such insights1 when they 
come1 the seers do their best1 in       
general1 to obscure2 suspicion of       
themselves they regard as a monster1 and
 would stifle4 ,they resent the waking  
of such doubt4 ,any attempt at the      
raising in them of their buried best    
they regard as an offence against       

intercourse4 ,a man takes his social    
life in his hand who dares it4 ,few     
therefore understand the judgment of    
,hamlet upon himself2 the common reader 
is so incapable of imagining he could   
mean it of his own general character as 
a man1 that he attributes the utterance 
to shame for the postponement of a      
vengeance1 which indeed he must have    
been such as his critic to be capable of
 performing upon no better proof than he
 had yet had4 ,when the man whose       
unfolding ,i would now represent1       
regards even his dearest love1 he finds 
it such a poor1 selfish1 low-lived      
thing1 that in his heart he shames      
himself before his children and his     
friends4 ,how little labour1 how little 
watching1 how little pain has he endured
 for their sakes6 ,he reads of great    
things in this kind1 but in himself he  
does not find them4 ,how often has he   
not been wrongfully displeased--wrathful
 with the innocent6 ,how often has he   
not hurt a heart more tender than his   

own6 ,has he ever once been faithful to 
the height of his ideal8 ,is his life on
 the whole a thing to regard with       
complacency1 or to be troubled          
exceedingly concerning8 ,beyond him rise
 and spread infinite seeming            
possibilities--height beyond height1    
glory beyond glory1 each rooted in and  
rising from his conscious being1 but    
alas6 where is any hope of ascending    
them8 ,these hills of peace1 8in a      
season of calm weather10 seem to        
surround and infold him1 as a land in   
which he could dwell at ease and at     
home3 surely among them lies the place  
of his birth6--while against their      
purity and grandeur the being of his    
consciousness shows miserable--dark1    
weak1 and undefined--a shadow that would
 fain be substance--a dream that would  
gladly be born into the light of        
reality4 ,but alas if the whole thing be
 only in himself--if the vision be a    
dream of nothing1 a revelation of lies1 
the outcome of that which1 helplessly   

existent1 is yet not created1 therefore 
cannot create--if not the whole thing   
only be a dream of the impotent1 but the
 impotent be himself but a dream--a     
dream of his own--a self-dreamed        
dream--with no master of dreams to whom 
to cry6 ,where then the cherished hope  
of one day atoning for his wrongs to    
those who loved him6--they are          
nowhere--vanished for ever1 upmingled   
and dissolved in the primeval darkness6 
,if truth be but the hollow of a sphere1
 ah1 never shall he cast himself before 
them1 to tell them that now at last1    
after long years of revealing           
separation1 he knows himself and them1  
and that now the love of them is a part 
of his very being--to implore their     
forgiveness on the ground that he hates1
 despises1 contemns1 and scorns the self
 that showed them less than absolute    
love and devotion6 ,never thus shall he 
lay his being bare to their eyes of     
love6 ,they do not even rest1 for they  
do not and will not know it4 ,there is  

no voice nor hearing in them1 and how   
can there be in him any heart to live6  
,the one comfort left him is1 that1     
unable to follow them1 he shall yet die 
and cease1 and fare as they--go also    
nowhither6  ,to a man under the dismay  
of existence dissociated from power1    
unrooted in1 unshadowed by a creating   
,will1 who is ,love1 the ,father of     
,man--to him who knows not being and    
,god together1 the idea of death--a     
death that knows no reviving1 must be1  
and ought to be the blessedest thought  
left him4 8,o land of shadows60 well may
 such a one cry6 8land where the shadows
 love to ecstatic self-loss1 yet forget1
 and love no more6 land of sorrows and  
despairs1 that sink the soul into a     
deeper ,tophet than death has ever      
sounded6 broken kaleidoscope6 shaken    
camera6 promiser1 speaking truth to the 
ear1 but lying to the sense6 land where 
the heart of my friend is sorrowful as  
my heart--the more sorrowful that ,i    
have been but a poor and far-off friend6

 land where sin is strong and           
righteousness faint6 where love dreams  
mightily and walks abroad so feeble6    
land where the face of my father is     
dust1 and the hand of my mother will    
never more caress6 where my children    
will spend a few years of like trouble  
to mine1 and then drop from the dream   
into the no-dream6 gladly1 ,o land of   
sickliest shadows--gladly1 that is1 with
 what power of gladness is in me1 ,i    
take my leave of thee6 ,welcome the     
cold1 pain-soothing embrace of immortal 
,death6 ,hideous are his looks1 but ,i  
love him better than ,life3 he is true1 
and will not deceive us4 ,nay1 he only  
is our saviour1 setting us free from the
 tyranny of the false that ought to be  
true1 and sets us longing in vain40     
,but through all the man's doubts1      
fears1 and perplexities1 a certain      
whisper1 say rather1 an uncertain       
rumour1 a vague legendary murmur1 has   
been at the same time about1 rather than
 in1 his ears--never ceasing to haunt   

his air1 although hitherto he has hardly
 heeded it4 ,he knows it has come down  
the ages1 and that some in every age    
have been more or less influenced by a  
varied acceptance of it4 ,upon those1   
however1 with whom he has chiefly       
associated1 it has made no impression   
beyond that of a remarkable legend4 ,it 
is the story of a man1 represented as at
 least greater1 stronger1 and better    
than any other man4 ,with the hero of   
this tale he has had a constantly       
recurring1 though altogether undefined  
suspicion that he has something to do4  
,it is strongest1 though not even then  
strong1 at such times when he is most   
aware of evil and imperfection in       
himself4 ,betwixt the two1 the idea of  
this man and his knowledge of himself1  
seems to lie1 dim-shadowy1 some         
imperative duty4 ,he knows that the     
whole matter concerning the man is      
commemorated in many of the oldest      
institutions of his country1 but up to  
this time he has shrunk from the demands

 which1 by a kind of spiritual insight1 
he foresaw would follow1 were he once to
 admit certain things to be true4 ,he   
has1 however1 known some and read of    
more who by their faith in the man      
conquered all anxiety1 doubt1 and fear1 
lived pure1 and died in gladsome hope4  
,on the other hand1 it seems to him that
 the faith which was once easy has now  
become almost an impossibility4 ,and    
what is it he is called upon to believe8
 ,one says one thing1 another another4  
,much that is asserted is simply        
unworthy of belief1 and the foundation  
of the whole has in his eyes something  
of the look of a cunningly devised      
fable4 ,even should it be true1 it      
cannot help him1 he thinks1 for it does 
not even touch the things that make his 
woe3 the ,god the tale presents is not  
the being whose very existence can alone
 be his cure4  ,but he meets one who    
says to him1 8,have you then come to    
your time of life1 and not yet ceased to
 accept hearsay as ground of action--for

 there is action in abstaining as well  
as in doing8 ,suppose the man in        
question to have taken all possible     
pains to be understood1 does it follow  
of necessity that he is now or ever was 
fairly represented by the bulk of his   
followers8 ,with such a moral distance  
between him and them1 is it possible80  
8,but the whole thing has from first to 
last a strange aspect60 our thinker     
replies4  8,as to the last that is not  
yet come4 ,and as to its aspect1 its    
reality must be such as human eye could 
never convey to reading heart4 ,every   
human idea of it must be more or less   
wrong4 ,and yet perhaps the truer the   
aspect the stranger it would be4 ,but is
 it not just with ordinary things you   
are dissatisfied8 ,and should not       
therefore the very strangeness of these 
to you little better than rumours       
incline you to examine the object of    
them8 ,will you assert that nothing     
strange can have to do with human       
affairs8 ,much that was once scarce     

credible is now so ordinary that men    
have grown stupid to the wonder inherent
 in it4 ,nothing around you serves your 
need3 try what is at least of another   
class of phenomena4 ,what if the things 
rumoured belong to a more natural order 
than these1 lie nearer the roots of your
 dissatisfied existence1 and look       
strange only because you have hitherto  
been living in the outer court1 not in  
the penetralia of life8 ,the rumour has 
been vital enough to float down the     
ages1 emerging from every storm3 why not
 see for yourself what may be in it8 ,so
 powerful an influence on human history1
 surely there will be found in it signs 
by which to determine whether the man   
understood himself and his message1 or  
owed his apparent greatness to the      
deluded worship of his followers6 ,that 
he has always had foolish followers none
 will deny1 and none but a fool would   
judge any leader from such a fact4      
,wisdom as well as folly will serve a   
fool's purpose2 he turns all into folly4

 ,i say nothing now of my own           
conclusions1 because what you imagine my
 opinions are as hateful to me as to you
 disagreeable and foolish40  ,so says   
the friend2 the man hears1 takes up the 
old story1 and says to himself1 8,let me
 see then what ,i can see60  ,i will not
 follow him through the many shadows and
 slow dawns by which at length he       
arrives at this much3 ,a man claiming to
 be the ,son of ,god says he has come to
 be the light of men2 says1 8,come to   
me1 and ,i will give you rest20 says1   
8,follow me1 and you shall find my      
,father2 to know him is the one thing   
you cannot do without1 for it is eternal
 life40 ,he has learned from the        
reported words of the man1 and from the 
man himself as in the tale presented1   
that the bliss of his conscious being is
 his ,father2 that his one delight is to
 do the will of that ,father--the only  
thing in his eyes worthy of being done1 
or worth having done2 that he would make
 men blessed with his own blessedness2  

that the cry of creation1 the cry of    
humanity shall be answered into the     
deepest soul of desire2 that less than  
the divine mode of existence1 the       
godlike way of being1 can satisfy no    
man1 that is1 make him content with his 
consciousness2 that not this world only1
 but the whole universe is the          
inheritance of those who consent to be  
the children of their ,father in heaven1
 who put forth the power of their will  
to be of the same sort as he2 that to as
 many as receive him he gives power to  
become the sons of ,god2 that they shall
 be partakers of the divine nature1 of  
the divine joy1 of the divine           
power--shall have whatever they desire1 
shall know no fear1 shall love          
perfectly1 and shall never die2 that    
these things are beyond the grasp of the
 knowing ones of the world1 and to them 
the message will be a scorn2 but that   
the time will come when its truth shall 
be apparent1 to some in confusion of    
face1 to others in joy unspeakable2 only

 that we must beware of judging1 for    
many that are first shall be last1 and  
there are last that shall be first4  ,to
 find himself in such conscious as well 
as vital relation with the source of his
 being1 with a ,will by which his own   
will exists1 with a ,consciousness by   
and through which he is conscious1 would
 indeed be the end of all the man's     
ills6 nor can he imagine any other1 not 
to say better way1 in which his sorrows 
could be met1 understood and            
annihilated4 ,for the ills that oppress 
him are both within him and without1 and
 over each kind he is powerless4 ,if the
 message were but a true one6 ,if indeed
 this man knew what he talked of6 ,but  
if there should be help for man from    
anywhere beyond him1 some one might know
 it first1 and may not this be the one8 
,and if the message be so great1 so     
perfect as this man asserts1 then only a
 perfect1 an eternal man1 at home in the
 bosom of the ,father1 could know1 or   
bring1 or tell it4 ,according to the    

tale1 it had been from the first the    
intent of the ,father to reveal himself 
to man as man1 for without the knowledge
 of the ,father after man's own modes of
 being1 he could not grow to real       
manhood4 ,the grander the whole idea1   
the more likely is it to be what it     
claims to be6 and if not high as the    
heavens above the earth1 beyond us yet  
within our reach1 it is not for us1 it  
cannot be true4 ,fact or not1 the       
existence of a ,god such as ,christ1 a  
,god who is a good man infinitely1 is   
the only idea containing hope enough for
 man6 ,if such a ,god has come to be    
known1 marvel must surround the first   
news at least of the revelation of him4 
,because of its marvel1 shall men find  
it in reason to turn from the gracious  
rumour of what1 if it be true1 must be  
the event of all events8 ,and could     
marvel be lovelier than the marvel      
reported8 ,but the humble men of heart  
alone can believe in the high--they     
alone can perceive1 they alone can      

embrace grandeur4 ,humility is essential
 greatness1 the inside of grandeur4     
,something of such truths the man       
glimmeringly sees4 ,but in his mind     
awake1 thereupon1 endless doubts and    
questions4 ,what if the whole idea of   
his mission was a deception born of the 
very goodness of the man8 ,what if the  
whole matter was the invention of men   
pretending themselves the followers of  
such a man8 ,what if it was a little    
truth greatly exaggerated8 ,only1 be it 
what it may1 less than its full idea    
would not be enough for the wants and   
sorrows that weaken and weigh him down6 
,he passes through many a thorny thicket
 of inquiry2 gathers evidence upon      
evidence2 reasons upon the goodness of  
the men who wrote3 they might be        
deceived1 but they dared not invent2    
holds with himself a thousand arguments1
 historical1 psychical1                 
metaphysical--which for their           
setting-forth would require volumes2    
hears many an opposing1 many a scoffing 

word from men 8who surely know1 else    
would they speak80 and finds himself    
much where he was before4 ,but at least 
he is haunting the possible borders of  
discovery1 while those who turn their   
backs upon the idea are divided from him
 by a great gulf--it may be of moral    
difference4 ,to him there is still a    
grand auroral hope about the idea1 and  
it still draws him2 the others1 taking  
the thing from merest report of opinion1
 look anywhere but thitherward4 ,he who 
would not trust his best friend to set  
forth his views of life1 accepts the    
random judgements of unknown others for 
a sufficing disposal of what the highest
 of the race have regarded as a         
veritable revelation from the ,father of
 men4 ,he sees in it therefore nothing  
but folly2 for what he takes for the    
thing nowhere meets his nature4 ,our    
searcher at least holds open the door   
for the hearing of what voice may come  
to him from the region invisible3 if    
there be truth there1 he is where it    

will find him4  ,as he continues to read
 and reflect1 the perception gradually  
grows clear in him1 that1 if there be   
truth in the matter1 he must1 first of  
all1 and beyond all things else1 give   
his best heed to the reported words of  
the man himself--to what he says1 not   
what is said about him1 valuable as that
 may afterwards prove to be4 ,and he    
finds that concerning these words of    
his1 the man says1 or at least plainly  
implies1 that only the obedient1        
childlike soul can understand them4 ,it 
follows that the judgement of no man who
 does not obey can be received          
concerning them or the speaker of       
them--that1 for instance1 a man who     
hates his enemy1 who tells lies1 who    
thinks to serve ,god and ,mammon1       
whether he call himself a ,christian or 
no1 has not the right of an opinion     
concerning the ,master or his words--at 
least in the eyes of the ,master1       
however it may be in his own4 ,this is  
in the very nature of things3 obedience 

alone places a man in the position in   
which he can see so as to judge that    
which is above him4 ,in respect of great
 truths investigation goes for little1  
speculation for nothing2 if a man would 
know them1 he must obey them4 ,their    
nature is such that the only door into  
them is obedience4 ,and the truth-seeker
 perceives--which allows him no loophole
 of escape from life--that what things  
the ,son of ,man requires of him1 are   
either such as his conscience backs for 
just1 or such as seem too great1 too    
high for any man4 ,but if there be help 
for him1 it must be a help that         
recognizes the highest in him1 and urges
 him to its use4 ,help cannot come to   
one made in the image of ,god1 save in  
the obedient effort of what life and    
power are in him1 for ,god is action4   
,in such effort alone is it possible for
 need to encounter help4 ,it is the     
upstretched that meets the downstretched
 hand4 ,he alone who obeys can with     
confidence pray--to him alone does an   

answer seem a thing that may come4 ,and 
should anything spoken by the ,son of   
,man seem to the seeker unreasonable1 he
 feels in the rest such a majesty of    
duty as compels him to judge with regard
 to the other1 that he has not yet      
perceived its true nature1 or its true  
relation to life4  ,and now comes the   
crisis3 if here the man sets himself    
honestly to do the thing the ,son of    
,man tells him1 he so1 and so first1    
sets out positively upon the path which1
 if there be truth in these things1 will
 conduct him to a knowledge of the whole
 matter2 not until then is he a         
disciple4 ,if the message be a true one1
 the condition of the knowledge of its  
truth is not only reasonable but an     
unavoidable necessity4 ,if there be help
 for him1 how otherways should it draw  
nigh8 ,he has to be assured of the      
highest truth of his being3 there can be
 no other assurance than that to be     
gained thus1 and thus alone2 for not    
only by obedience does a man come into  

such contact with truth as to know what 
it is1 and in regard to truth knowledge 
and belief are one4 ,that things which  
cannot appear save to the eye capable of
 seeing them1 that things which cannot  
be recognized save by the mind of a     
certain development1 should be examined 
by eye incapable1 and pronounced upon by
 mind undeveloped1 is absurd4 ,the      
deliverance the message offers is a     
change such that the man shall be the   
rightness of which he talked3 while his 
soul is not a hungered1 athirst1 aglow1 
a groaning after righteousness--that is1
 longing to be himself honest and       
upright1 it is an absurdity that he     
should judge concerning the way to this 
rightness1 seeing that1 while he walks  
not in it1 he is and shall be a         
dishonest man3 he knows not whither it  
leads and how can he know the way6 ,what
 he can judge of is1 his duty at a given
 moment--and that not in the abstract1  
but as something to be by him done1     
neither more1 nor less1 nor other than  

done4 ,thus judging and doing1 he makes 
the only possible step nearer to        
righteousness and righteous judgement2  
doing otherwise1 he becomes the more    
unrighteous1 the more blind4 ,for the   
man who knows not ,god1 whether he      
believes there is a ,god or not1 there  
can be1 ,i repeat1 no judgement of      
things pertaining to ,god4 ,to our      
supposed searcher1 then1 the crowning   
word of the ,son of ,man is this1 8,if  
any man is willing to do the will of the
 ,father1 he shall know of the doctrine1
 whether it be of ,god1 or whether ,i   
speak of myself40  ,having thus         
accompanied my type to the borders of   
liberty1 my task for the present is     
over4 ,the rest let him who reads prove 
for himself4 ,obedience alone can       
convince4 ,to convince without obedience
 ,i would take no bootless labour2 it   
would be but a gain for hell4 ,if any   
man call these things foolishness1 his  
judgement is to me insignificant4 ,if   
any man say he is open to conviction1 ,i

 answer him he can have none but on the 
condition1 by the means of obedience4   
,if a man say1 8,the thing is not       
interesting to me10 ,i ask him1 8,are   
you following your conscience8 ,by that1
 and not by the interest you take or do 
not take in a thing1 shall you be       
judged4 ,nor will anything be said to   
you1 or of you1 in that day1 whatever   
that day mean1 of which your conscience 
will not echo every syllable40  ,oneness
 with ,god is the sole truth of         
humanity4 ,life parted from its         
causative life would be no life2 it     
would at best be but a barrack of       
corruption1 an outpost of annihilation4 
,in proportion as the union is          
incomplete1 the derived life is         
imperfect4 ,and no man can be one with  
neighbour1 child1 dearest1 except as he 
is one with his origin2 and he fails of 
his perfection so long as there is one  
being in the universe he could not love4
  ,of all men he is bound to hold his   
face like a flint in witness of this    

truth who owes everything that makes for
 eternal good1 to the belief that at the
 heart of things and causing them to be1
 at the centre of monad1 of world1 of   
protoplastic mass1 of loving dog1 and of
 man most cruel1 is an absolute1 perfect
 love2 and that in the man ,christ      
,jesus this love is with us men to take 
us home4 ,to nothing else do ,i for one 
owe any grasp upon life4 ,in this ,i see
 the setting right of all things4 ,to   
the man who believes in the ,son of     
,god1 poetry returns in a mighty wave2  
history unrolls itself in harmony2      
science shows crowned with its own      
aureole of holiness4 ,there is no       
enlivener of the imagination1 no enabler
 of the judgment1 no strengthener of the
 intellect1 to compare with the belief  
in a live ,ideal1 at the heart of all   
personality1 as of every law4 ,if there 
be no such live ,ideal1 then a falsehood
 can do more for the race than the facts
 of its being2 then an unreality is     
needful for the development of the man  

in all that is real1 in all that is in  
the highest sense true2 then falsehood  
is greater than fact1 and an idol       
necessary for lack of a ,god4 ,they who 
deny cannot1 in the nature of things1   
know what they deny4 ,when one sees a   
chaos begin to put on the shape of an   
ordered world1 he will hardly be        
persuaded it is by the power of a       
foolish notion bred in a diseased fancy4
  ,let the man then who would rise to   
the height of his being1 be persuaded to
 test the ,truth by the deed--the       
highest and only test that can be       
applied to the loftiest of all          
assertions4 ,to every man ,i say1 8,do  
the truth you know1 and you shall learn 
the truth you need to know40     ,,st4  
,,george',s ,,day1 #aefd4   ,footnote3  
#ahfd4  ,all ,england knows that this   
year 7#ahfd7 is the three hundredth     
since ,shakspere was born4 ,the strong  
probability is likewise that this month 
of ,april is that in which he first saw 
the earthly light4 ,on the twenty-sixth 

of ,april he was baptized4 ,whether he  
was born on the twenty-third1 to which  
effect there may once have been a       
tradition1 we do not know2 but though   
there is nothing to corroborate that    
statement1 there are two facts which    
would incline us to believe it if we    
could3 the one that he died on the      
twenty-third of ,april1 thus1 as it     
were1 completing a cycle2 and the other 
that the twenty-third of ,april is ,st4 
,george's ,day4 ,if there is no harm in 
indulging in a little fanciful sentiment
 about such a grand fact1 we should say 
that certainly it was ,st4 ,george for  
merry ,england when ,shakspere was born4
 ,but had ,st4 ,george been the best    
saint in the calendar--which we have    
little enough ground for supposing he   
was--it would better suit our subject to
 say that the ,highest was thinking of  
his ,england when he sent ,shakspere    
into it1 to be a strength1 a wonder1 and
 a gladness to the nations of his earth4
  ,but if we write thus about           

,shakspere1 influenced only by the      
fashion of the day1 we shall be much in 
the condition of those fashionable      
architects who with their vain praises  
built the tombs of the prophets1 while  
they had no regard to the lessons they  
taught4 ,we hope to be able to show that
 we have good grounds for our rejoicing 
in the birth of that child whom         
after-years placed highest on the rocky 
steep of ,art1 up which so many of those
 who combine feeling and thought are    
always striving4  ,first1 however1 let  
us look at some of the more powerful of 
the influences into the midst of which  
he was born4 ,for a child is born into  
the womb of the time1 which indeed      
enclosed and fed him before he was born4
 ,not the least subtle and potent of    
those influences which tend to the      
education of the child 7in the true     
sense of the word education7 are those  
which are brought to bear upon him      
through the mind1 heart1 judgement of   
his parents4 ,we mean that those powers 

which have operated strongly upon them1 
have a certain concentrated operation1  
both antenatal and psychological1 as    
well as educational and spiritual1 upon 
the child4 ,now ,shakspere was born in  
the sixth year of ,queen ,elizabeth4 ,he
 was the eldest son1 but the third      
child4 ,his father and mother must have 
been married not later than the year    
#aeeg1 two years after ,cranmer was     
burned at the stake1 one of the two     
hundred who thus perished in that time  
of pain1 resulting in the firm          
establishment of a reformation which1   
like all other changes for the better1  
could not be verified and secured       
without some form or other of the trial 
by fire4 ,events such as then took place
 in every part of the country could not 
fail to make a strong impression upon   
all thinking people1 especially as it   
was not those of high position only who 
were thus called upon to bear witness to
 their beliefs4 ,john ,shakspere and    
,mary ,arden were in all likelihood     

themselves of the ,protestant party2 and
 although1 as far as we know1 they were 
never in any especial danger of being   
denounced1 the whole of the             
circumstances must have tended to       
produce in them individually1 what seems
 to have been characteristic of the age 
in which they lived1 earnestness4 ,in   
times such as those1 people are         
compelled to think4  ,and here an       
interesting question occurs3 ,was it in 
part to his mother that ,shakspere was  
indebted for that profound knowledge of 
the ,bible which is so evident in his   
writings8 ,a good many copies of the    
,scriptures must have been by this time1
 in one translation or another1         
scattered over the country4 ,footnote3  
,and it seems to us probable that this  
diffusion of the ,bible1 did more to    
rouse the slumbering literary power of  
,england1 than any influences of foreign
 literature whatever4 ,no doubt the word
 was precious in those days1 and hard to
 buy2 but there might have been a copy1 

notwithstanding1 in the house of ,john  
,shakspere1 and it is possible that it  
was from his mother's lips that the boy 
first heard the ,scripture tales4 ,we   
have called his acquaintance with       
,scripture profound1 and one peculiar   
way in which it manifests itself will   
bear out the assertion2 for frequently  
it is the very spirit and essential     
aroma of the passage that he reproduces1
 without making any use of the words    
themselves4 ,there are passages in his  
writings which we could not have        
understood but for some acquaintance    
with the ,new ,testament4 ,we will      
produce a few specimens of the kind we  
mean1 confining ourselves to one play1  
8,macbeth40  ,just mentioning the       
phrase1 8temple-haunting martlet0 7act  
i4 scene #f71 as including in it a      
reference to the verse1 8,yea1 the      
sparrow hath found an house1 and the    
swallow a nest for herself1 where she   
may lay her young1 even thine altars1 ,o
 ,lord of hosts10 we pass to the        

following passage1 for which we do not  
believe there is any explanation but    
that suggested to us by the passage of  
,scripture to be cited4  ,macbeth1 on   
his way to murder ,duncan1 says1--      
8,thou sure and firm-set earth1   ,hear 
not my steps1 which way they walk1 for  
fear   ,thy very stones prate of my     
whereabout1   ,and take the present     
horror from the time   ,which now suits 
with it40  ,what is meant by the last   
two lines8 ,it seems to us to be just   
another form of the words1 8,for there  
is nothing covered1 that shall not be   
revealed2 neither hid1 that shall not be
 known4 ,therefore whatsoever ye have   
spoken in darkness shall be heard in the
 light2 and that which ye have spoken in
 the ear in closets shall be proclaimed 
upon the house-tops40 ,of course we do  
not mean that ,macbeth is represented as
 having this passage in his mind1 but   
that ,shakspere had the feeling of it   
when he wrote thus4 ,what ,macbeth means
 is1 8,earth1 do not hear me in the     

dark1 which is suitable to the present  
horror1 lest the very stones prate about
 it in the daylight1 which is not       
suitable to such things2 thus taking    
#8the present horror from the time which
 now suits with it4'0  ,again1 in the   
only piece of humour in the play--if    
that should be called humour which1     
taken in its relation to the            
consciousness of the principal          
characters1 is as terrible as anything  
in the piece--the porter ends off his   
fantastic soliloquy1 in which he        
personates the porter of hell-gate1 with
 the words1 8,but this place is too cold
 for hell3 ,i'll devil-porter it no     
further4 ,i had thought to have let in  
some of all professions1 that go the    
primrose way to the everlasting         
bonfire40 ,now what else had the writer 
in his mind but the verse from the      
,sermon on the ,mount1 8,for wide is the
 gate1 and broad is the way1 that       
leadeth to destruction1 and many there  
be which go in thereat08  ,it may be    

objected that such passages as these1   
being of the most commonly quoted1 imply
 no profound acquaintance with          
,scripture1 such as we have said        
,shakspere possessed4 ,but no amount of 
knowledge of the words of the ,bible    
would be sufficient to justify the use  
of the word profound4 ,what is          
remarkable in the employment of these   
passages1 is not merely that they are so
 present to his mind that they come up  
for use in the most exciting moments of 
composition1 but that he embodies the   
spirit of them in such a new form as    
reveals to minds saturated and deadened 
with the sound of the words1 the very   
visual image and spiritual meaning      
involved in them4 8,the primrose way60  
,and to what8  ,we will confine         
ourselves to one passage more3--        
8,macbeth   ,is ripe for shaking1 and   
the powers above   ,put on their        
instruments40  ,in the end of the #adth 
chapter of the ,revelation we have the  
words1 8,thrust in thy sickle1 and reap3

 for the time is come for thee to reap2 
for the harvest of the earth is ripe40  
,we suspect that ,shakspere wrote1 ripe 
to shaking4  ,the instances to which we 
have confined ourselves do not by any   
means belong to the most evident kind of
 proof that might be adduced of         
,shakspere's acquaintance with          
,scripture4 ,the subject1 in its        
ordinary aspect1 has been elsewhere     
treated with far more fulness than our  
design would permit us to indulge in1   
even if it had not been done already4   
,our object has been to bring forward a 
few passages which seem to us to breathe
 the very spirit of individual passages 
in sacred writ1 without direct use of   
the words themselves2 and1 of course1 in
 such a case we can only appeal to the  
7no doubt7 very various degrees of      
conviction which they may rouse in the  
minds of our readers4  ,but there is one
 singular correspondence in another     
almost literal quotation from the       
,gospel1 which is to us wonderfully     

interesting4 ,we are told that the words
 8eye of a needle10 in the passage about
 a rich man entering the kingdom of     
heaven1 mean the small side entrance in 
a city gate4 ,now1 in 8,richard ,,ii10  
act v4 scene #e1 ,richard quotes the    
passage thus3--    8,it is as hard to   
come as for a camel   ,to thread the    
postern of a needle's eye20  showing    
that either the imagination of          
,shakspere suggested the real           
explanation1 or he had taken pains to   
acquaint himself with the significance  
of the simile4 ,we can hardly say that  
the correspondence might be merely      
fortuitous2 because1 at the least1      
,shakspere looked for and found a       
suitable figure to associate with the   
words eye of a needle1 and so fell upon 
the real explanation2 except1 indeed1 he
 had no particular significance in using
 the word that meant a little gate1     
instead of a word meaning any kind of   
entrance1 which1 with him1 seems        
unlikely4  ,we have not by any means    

proven that ,shakspere's acquaintance   
with the ,scriptures had an early date  
in his history2 but certainly the ,bible
 must have had a great influence upon   
him who was the highest representative  
mind of the time1 its influence on the  
general development of the nation being 
unquestionable4 ,this1 therefore1 seeing
 the ,bible itself was just dawning full
 upon the country while ,shakspere was  
becoming capable of understanding it1   
seems the suitable sequence in which to 
take notice of that influence1 and of   
some of those passages in his works     
which testify to it4  ,but1 besides the 
,bible1 every nation has a ,bible1 or at
 least an ,old ,testament1 in its own   
history2 and that ,shakspere paid       
especial attention to this1 is no matter
 of conjecture4 ,we suspect his mode of 
writing historical plays is more after  
the fashion of the ,bible histories than
 that of most writers of history4       
,indeed1 the development and            
consequences of character and conduct   

are clear to those that read his        
histories with open eyes4 ,now1 in his  
childhood ,shakspere may have had some  
special incentive to the study of       
history springing out of the fact that  
his mother's grandfather had been 8groom
 of the chamber to ,henry ,,vii410 while
 there is sufficient testimony that a   
further removed ancestor of his father1 
as well1 had stood high in the favour of
 the same monarch4 ,therefore the       
history of the troublous times of the   
preceding century1 which were brought to
 a close by the usurpation of ,henry    
,,vii41 would naturally be a subject of 
talk in the quiet household1 where books
 and amusements such as now occupy our  
boys1 were scarce or wanting altogether4
 ,the proximity of such a past of strife
 and commotion1 crowded with eventful   
change1 must have formed a background   
full of the material of excitement to an
 age which lived in the midst of a      
peculiarly exciting history of its own4 
,perhaps the chief intellectual         

characteristic of the age of ,elizabeth 
was activity2 this activity accounting  
even for much that is objectionable in  
its literature4 ,now this activity must 
have been growing in the people         
throughout the fifteenth century2 the   
wars of the ,roses1 although they       
stifled literature1 so that it had1 as  
it were1 to be born again in the        
beginning of the following century1     
being1 after all1 but as the 8eager     
strife0 of the shadow-leaves above the  
8genuine life0 of the grass1--          
8,and the mute repose   ,of sweetly     
breathing flowers40  ,but when peace had
 fallen on the land1 it would seem as if
 the impulse to action springing from   
strife still operated1 as the waves will
 go on raving upon the shore after the  
wind has ceased1 and found one outlet1  
amongst others1 in literature1 and      
peculiarly in dramatic literature4      
,peace1 rendered yet more intense by the
 cessation of the cries of the          
tormentors1 and the groans of the noble 

army of suffering martyrs1 made1 as it  
were1 a kind of vacuum2 and into that   
vacuum burst up the torrent-springs of a
 thousand souls--the thoughts that were 
no longer repressed--in the history of  
the past and the ,utopian speculation on
 the future2 in noble theology1 capable 
statesmanship1 and science at once      
brilliant and profound2 in the voyage of
 discovery1 and the change of the       
swan-like merchantman into a very       
fire-drake of war for the defence of the
 threatened shores2 in the first brave  
speech of the ,puritan in ,elizabeth's  
,parliament1 the first murmurs of the   
voice of liberty1 soon to thunder       
throughout the land2 in the naturalizing
 of foreign genius by translation1 and  
the invention1 or at least adoption1 of 
a new and transcendent rhythm2 in the   
song1 in the epic1 in the drama4  ,so   
much for the general4 ,let us now1      
following the course of his life1       
recall1 in a few sentences1 some of the 
chief events which must have impressed  

the all-open mind of ,shakspere in the  
earlier portion of his history4         
,perhaps it would not be going back too 
far to begin with the ,massacre of      
,paris1 which took place when he was    
eight years old4 ,it caused so much     
horror in ,england1 that it is not      
absurd to suppose that some black rays  
from the deed of darkness may have      
fallen on the mind of such a child as   
,shakspere4  ,in strong contrast with   
the foregoing is the next event to which
 we shall refer4  ,when he was eleven   
years old1 ,leicester gave the ,queen   
that magnificent reception at           
,kenilworth which is so well known from 
its memorials in our literature4 ,it has
 been suggested as probable1 with quite 
enough of likelihood to justify a       
conjecture1 that ,shakspere may have    
been present at the dramatic            
representations then so gorgeously      
accumulated before her ,majesty4 ,if    
such was the fact1 it is easy to imagine
 what an influence the shows must have  

had on the mind of the young dramatic   
genius1 at a time when1 happily1 the    
critical faculty is not by any means so 
fully awake as are the receptive and    
exultant faculties1 and when what the   
nature chiefly needs is excitement to   
growth1 without which all pruning1 the  
most artistic1 is useless1 as having    
nothing to operate upon4  ,when he was  
fifteen years old1 ,sir ,thomas ,north's
 translation of ,plutarch 7through the  
,french7 was first published4 ,any      
reader who has compared one of          
,shakspere's ,roman plays with the      
corresponding life in ,plutarch1 will   
not be surprised that we should mention 
this as one of those events which must  
have been of paramount influence upon   
,shakspere4 ,it is not likely that he   
became acquainted with the large folio  
with its medallion portraits first      
placed singly1 and then repeated side by
 side for comparison1 as soon as it made
 its appearance1 but as we cannot tell  
when he began to read it1 it seems as   

well to place it in the order its       
publication would assign to it4         
,besides1 it evidently took such a hold 
of the man1 that it is most probable his
 acquaintance with it began at a very   
early period of his history4 ,indeed1 it
 seems to us to have been one of the    
most powerful aids to the development of
 that perception and discrimination of  
character with which he was gifted to   
such a remarkable degree4 ,nor would it 
be any derogation from the originality  
of his genius to say1 that in a very    
pregnant sense he must have been a      
disciple of ,plutarch4 ,in those plays  
founded on ,plutarch's stories he picked
 out every dramatic point1 and          
occasionally employed the very phrases  
of ,north's nervous1 graphic1 and       
characteristic ,english4 ,he seems to   
have felt that it was an honour to his  
work to embody in it the words of       
,plutarch himself1 as he knew them      
first4 ,from him he seems especially to 
have learned how to bring out the points

 of a character1 by putting one man over
 against another1 and remarking wherein 
they resembled each other and wherein   
they differed2 after which fashion1 in  
other plays as well as those1 he partly 
arranged his dramatic characters4  ,not 
long after he went to ,london1 when he  
was twenty-two1 the death of ,sir       
,philip ,sidney at the age of           
thirty-two1 must have had its           
unavoidable influence on him1 seeing all
 ,europe was in mourning for the death  
of its model1 almost ideal man4 ,in     
,england the general mourning1 both in  
the court and the city1 which lasted for
 months1 is supposed by ,dr4 ,zouch to  
have been the first instance of the     
kind2 that is1 for the death of a       
private person4 ,renowned over the      
civilized world for everything for which
 a man could be renowned1 his literary  
fame must have had a considerable share 
in the impression his death would make  
on such a man as ,shakspere4 ,for       
although none of his works were         

published till after his death1 the     
first within a few months of that event1
 his fame as a writer was widely spread 
in private1 and report of the same could
 hardly fail to reach one who1 although 
he had probably no friends of rank as   
yet1 kept such keen open ears for all   
that was going on around him4 ,but      
whether or not he had heard of the      
literary greatness of ,sir ,philip      
before his death1 the 8,arcadia10 which 
was first published four years after his
 death 7#aeij71 and which in eight years
 had reached the third edition--with    
another still in ,scotland the following
 year--must have been full of interest  
to ,shakspere4 ,this book is very       
different indeed from the ordinary      
impression of it which most minds have  
received through the confident          
incapacity of the critics of last       
century4 ,few books have been published 
more fruitful in the results and causes 
of thought1 more sparkling with fancy1  
more evidently the outcome of rich and  

noble habit1 than this 8,arcadia0 of    
,philip ,sidney4 ,that ,shakspere read  
it1 is sufficiently evident from the    
fact that from it he has taken the      
secondary but still important plots in  
two of his plays4  ,although we are     
anticipating1 it is better to mention   
here another book1 published in the same
 year1 namely1 #aeij1 when ,shakspere   
was six-and-twenty3 the first three     
books of ,spenser's 8,faery ,queen40 ,of
 its reception and character it is      
needless here to say anything further   
than1 of the latter1 that nowadays the  
depths of its teaching1 heartily prized 
as that was by no less a man than       
,milton1 are seldom explored4 ,but it   
would be a labour of months to set out  
the known and imagined sources of the   
knowledge and spiritual pabulum of the  
man who laid every mental region so     
under contribution1 that he has been    
claimed by almost every profession as   
having been at one time or another a    
student of its peculiar science1 so     

marvellously in him was the power of    
assimilation combined with that of      
reproduction4  ,to go back a little3 in 
#aehg1 when he was three-and-twenty1    
,mary ,queen of ,scots was executed4 ,in
 the following year came that mighty    
victory of ,england1 and her allies the 
winds and the waters1 over the towering 
pride of the ,spanish ,armada4 ,out from
 the coasts1 like the birds from their  
cliffs to defend their young1 flew the  
little navy1 many of the vessels only   
able to carry a few guns2 and fighting1 
fire-ships and tempest left this        
island1--    8,this precious stone set  
in the silver sea10  still a 8blessed   
plot10 with an accumulated obligation to
 liberty which can only be paid by      
helping others to be free2 and when she 
utterly forgets which1 her doom is      
sealed1 as surely as that of the old    
empires which passed away in their      
self-indulgence and wickedness4  ,when  
,shakspere was about thirty-two1 ,sir   
,walter ,raleigh published his glowing  

account of ,guiana1 which instantly     
provided the ,english mind with an      
earthly paradise or fairy-land4 ,raleigh
 himself seems to have been too full of 
his own reports for us to be able to    
suppose that he either invented or      
disbelieved them2 especially when he    
represents the heavenly country to      
which1 in expectation of his execution1 
he is looking forward1 after the fashion
 of those regions of the wonderful      
,west3--    8,then the blessed ,paths   
wee'l travel1   ,strow'd with ,rubies   
thick as gravel2   ,sealings of         
,diamonds1 ,saphire floors1   ,high     
walls of ,coral1 and ,pearly ,bowers40  
,such were some of the influences which 
widened the region of thought1 and      
excited the productive power1 in the    
minds of the time4 ,after this period   
there were fewer of such in ,shakspere's
 life2 and if there had been more of    
them they would have been of less import
 as to their operation on a mind more   
fully formed and more capable of        

choosing its own influences4 ,let us now
 give a backward glance at the history  
of the art which ,shakspere chose as the
 means of easing his own mind of that   
wealth which1 like the gold and the     
silver1 has a moth and rust of its own1 
except it be kept in use by being sent  
out for the good of our neighbours4  ,it
 was a mighty gain for the language and 
the people when1 in the middle of the   
fourteenth century1 by permission of the
 ,pope1 the miracle-plays1 most probably
 hitherto represented in                
,norman-,french1 as ,mr4 ,collier       
supposes1 began to be represented in    
,english4 ,most likely there had been   
dramatic representations of a sort from 
the very earliest period of the nation's
 history2 for1 to begin with the lowest 
form1 at what time would there not1 for 
the delight of listeners1 have been the 
imitation of animal sounds1 such as the 
drama of the conversation between an    
attacking poodle and a fiercely         
repellent puss8 ,through innumerable    

gradations of childhood would the art   
grow before it attained the first formal
 embodiment in such plays as those1     
so-called1 of miracles1 consisting just 
of ,scripture stories1 both canonical   
and apocryphal1 dramatized after the    
rudest fashion4 ,regarded from the      
height which the art had reached two    
hundred and fifty years after1 8how     
dwarfed a growth of cold and night0 do  
these miracle-plays show themselves6    
,but at a time when there was no        
printing1 little preaching1 and ,latin  
prayers1 we cannot help thinking that1  
grotesque and ill-imagined as they are1 
they must have been of unspeakable value
 for the instruction of a people whose  
spiritual digestion was not of a sort to
 be injured by the presence of a quite  
abnormal quantity of husk and saw-dust  
in their food4 ,and occasionally we find
 verses of true poetic feeling1 such as 
the following1 in 8,the ,fall of        
,man30--    ,deus4 ,adam1 that with myn 
handys ,i made1         ,where art thou 

now8 ,what hast thou wrought8    ,adam4 
,a6 lord1 for synne oure floures do     
ffade1         ,i here thi voys1 but ,i 
se the nought2  implying that the       
separation between ,god and man1        
although it had destroyed the beatific  
vision1 was not yet so complete as to   
make the creature deaf to the voice of  
his ,maker4 ,nor are the words of ,eve1 
with which she begs her husband1 in her 
shame and remorse1 to strangle her1 odd 
and quaint as they are1 without an      
almost overpowering pathos3--    8,now  
stomble we on stalk and ston2   ,my wyt 
awey is fro me gon3   ,wrythe on to my  
necke bon     ,with1 hardnesse of thin  
honde40  ,to this ,adam commences his   
reply with the verses1--    8,wyff1 thi 
wytt is not wurthe a rosche4   ,leve    
woman1 turn thi thought40  ,and this    
portion of the general representation   
ends with these verses1 spoken by       
,eve3--    8,alas6 that ever we wrought 
this synne4   ,oure bodely sustenauns   
for to wynne1   ,ye must delve and ,i   

xal spynne1     ,in care to ledyn oure  
lyff40  ,in connexion with these plays1 
one of the contemplations most          
interesting to us is1 the contrast      
between them and the places in which    
they were occasionally represented4 ,for
 though the scaffolds on which they were
 shown were usually erected in          
market-places or churchyards1 sometimes 
they rose in the great churches1 and the
 plays were represented with the aid of 
ecclesiastics4 ,here1 then1 we have the 
rude beginnings of the dramatic art1 in 
which the devil is the unfortunate      
buffoon1 giving occasion to the most    
exuberant laughter of the people--here  
is this rude boyhood1 if we may so say1 
of the one art1 roofed in with the      
perfection of another1 of architecture2 
a perfection which now we can only      
imitate at our best3 below1 the clumsy  
contrivance and the vulgar jest2 above1 
the solemn heaven of uplifted arches1   
their mysterious glooms ringing with the
 delight of the multitude3 the play of  

children enclosed in the heart of prayer
 aspiring in stone4 ,but it was not by  
any means all laughter2 and so much1    
nearer than architecture is the drama to
 the ordinary human heart1 that we      
cannot help thinking these grotesque    
representations did far more to arouse  
the inward life and conscience of the   
people than all the glory into which the
 out-working spirit of the monks had    
compelled the stubborn stone to bourgeon
 and blossom4  ,but although1 no doubt1 
there was some kind of growth going on  
in the drama even during the dreary     
fifteenth century1 we must not suppose  
that it was by any regular and steady   
progression that it arrived at the      
grandeur of the ,elizabethan perfection4
 ,it was rather as if a dry1 knotty1    
uncouth1 but vigorous plant suddenly    
opened out its inward life in a flower  
of surpassing splendour and loveliness4 
,when the representation of real        
historical persons in the miracle-plays 
gave way before the introduction of     

unreal allegorical personages1 and the  
miracle-play was almost driven from the 
stage by the 8play of morals0 as it was 
called1 there was certainly no great    
advance made in dramatic representation4
 ,the chief advantage gained was room   
for more variety2 while in some         
important respects these plays fell off 
from the merits of the preceding kind4  
,indeed1 any attempt to teach morals    
allegorically must lack that vivifying  
fire of faith working in the poorest    
representations of a history which the  
people heartily believed and loved4 ,nor
 when we come to examine the favourite  
amusement of later royalty1 do we find  
that the interludes brought forward in  
the pauses of the banquets of ,henry    
,,viii4 have a claim to any refinement  
upon those old miracle-plays4 ,they have
 gained in facility and wit2 they have  
lost in poetry4 ,they have lost pathos  
too1 and have gathered grossness4 ,in   
the comedies which soon appear1 there is
 far more of fun than of art2 and       

although the historical play had existed
 for some time1 and the streams of      
learning from the inns of court had     
flowed in to swell that of the drama1 it
 is not before the appearance of        
,shakspere that we find any whole of    
artistic or poetic value4 ,and this     
brings us to another branch of the      
subject1 of which it seems to us that   
the importance has never been duly      
acknowledged4 ,we refer to the use1 if  
not invention1 of blank verse in        
,england1 and its application to the    
purposes of the drama4 ,it seems to us  
that in any contemplation of ,shakspere 
and his times1 the consideration of     
these points ought not to be omitted4   
,we have in the present day one grand   
master of blank verse1 the ,poet        
,laureate4 ,but where would he have been
 if ,milton had not gone before him2 or 
if the verse amidst which he works like 
an informing spirit had not existed at  
all8 ,no doubt he might have invented it
 himself2 but how different would the   

result have been from the verse which he
 will now leave behind him to lie side  
by side for comparison with that of the 
master of the epic6 ,all thanks then to 
,henry ,howard1 ,earl of ,surrey6 who1  
if1 dying on the scaffold at the early  
age of thirty1 he has left no poetry in 
itself of much value1 yet so wrote that 
he refined the poetic usages of the     
language1 and1 above all1 was the first 
who ever made blank verse in ,english4  
,he used it in translating the second   
and fourth books of ,virgil's 8,aeneid40
 ,this translation he probably wrote not
 long before his execution1 which took  
place in #aedg1 seventeen years before  
the birth of ,shakspere4 ,there are     
passages of excellence in the work1 and 
very rarely does a verse quite fail4    
,but1 as might be expected1 it is       
somewhat stiff1 and1 as it were1 stunted
 in sound2 partly from the fact that the
 lines are too much divided1 where      
distinction would have been sufficient4 
,it would have been strange1 indeed1 if 

he had at once made a free use of a     
rhythm which every boy-poet now thinks  
he can do what he pleases with1 but of  
which only a few ever learn the real    
scope and capabilities4 ,besides1 the   
difficulty was increased by the fact    
that the nearest approach to it in      
measure was the heroic couplet1 so well 
known in our language1 although scarce  
one who has used it has come up to the  
variousness of its modelling in the     
hands of ,chaucer1 with whose writings  
,surrey was of course familiar4 ,but    
various as is its melody in ,chaucer1   
the fact of there being always an       
anticipation of the perfecting of a     
rhyme at the end of the couplet would   
make one accustomed to heroic verse     
ready to introduce a rhythmical fall and
 kind of close at the end of every blank
 verse in trying to write that measure  
for the first time4 ,still1 as we say1  
there is good verse in ,surrey's        
translation4 ,take the following lines  
for a specimen1 in which the fault just 

mentioned is scarcely perceptible4      
,mercury is the subject of them4        
8,his golden wings he knits1 which him  
transport1   ,with a light wind above   
the earth and seas2   ,and then with him
 his wand he took1 whereby   ,he calls  
from hell pale ghosts4          99      
99       99       99       99   8,by    
power whereof he drives the winds away1 
,and passeth eke amid the troubled      
clouds1   ,till in his flight he #8gan  
descry the top   ,and the steep flanks  
of rocky ,atlas' hill   ,that with his  
crown sustains the welkin up2   ,whose  
head1 forgrown with pine1 circled alway 
,with misty clouds1 is beaten with wind 
and storm2   ,his shoulders spread with 
snow2 and from his chin   ,the springs  
descend2 his beard frozen with ice4     
,here ,mercury with equal shining wings 
,first touched40  ,in all comparative   
criticism justice demands that he who   
began any mode should not be compared   
with those who follow only on the ground
 of absolute merit in the productions   

themselves2 for while he may be inferior
 in regard to quality1 he stands on a   
height1 as the inventor1 to which they1 
as imitators1 can never ascend1 although
 they may climb other and loftier       
heights1 through the example he has set 
them4 ,it is doubtful1 however1 whether 
,surrey himself invented this verse1 or 
only followed the lead of some poet of  
,italy or ,spain2 in both which         
countries it is said that blank verse   
had been used before ,surrey wrote      
,english in that measure4  ,here then we
 have the low beginnings of blank verse4
 ,it was nearly a hundred and twenty    
years before ,milton took it up1 and1   
while it served him well1 glorified it2 
nor are we aware of any poem of worth   
written in that measure between4 ,here1 
of course1 we speak of the epic form of 
the verse1 which1 as being uttered ore  
rotundo1 is necessarily of considerable 
difference from the form it assumes in  
the drama4  ,let us now glance for a    
moment at the forms of composition in   

use for dramatic purposes before blank  
verse came into favour with             
play-writers4 ,the nature of the verse  
employed in the miracle-plays will be   
sufficiently seen from the short        
specimens already given4 ,these plays   
were made up of carefully measured and  
varied lines1 with correct and          
superabundant rhymes1 and no marked lack
 of melody or rhythm4 ,but as far as we 
have made acquaintance with the moral   
and other rhymed plays which followed1  
there was a great falling off in these  
respects4 ,they are in great measure    
composed of long1 irregular lines1 with 
a kind of rhythmical progress rather    
than rhythm in them4 ,they are          
exceedingly difficult to read musically1
 at least to one of our day4 ,here are a
 few verses of the sort1 from the       
dramatic poem1 rather than drama1 called
 somewhat improperly 8,the ,moral ,play 
of ,god's ,promises10 by ,john ,bale1   
who died the year before ,shakspere was 
born4 ,it is the first in ,dodsley's    

collection4 ,the verses have some poetic
 merit4 ,the rhythm will be allowed to  
be difficult at least4 ,the verses are  
arranged in stanzas1 of which we give   
two4 ,in most plays the verses are      
arranged in rhyming couplets only4      
,pater ,coelestis4    ,i have with      
fearcenesse mankynde oft tymes          
corrected1   ,and agayne1 ,i have       
allured hym by swete promes4   ,i have  
sent sore plages1 when he hath me       
neglected1   ,and then by and by1 most  
comfortable swetnes4   ,to wynne hym to 
grace1 bothe mercye and ryghteousnes    
,i have exercysed1 yet wyll he not      
amende4   ,shall ,i now lose hym1 or    
shall ,i him defende8    ,in hys most   
myschefe1 most hygh grace will ,i sende1
   ,to overcome hym by favoure1 if it   
may be4   ,with hys abusyons no longar  
wyll ,i contende1   ,but now accomplysh 
my first wyll and decre4   ,my worde    
beynge flesh1 from hens shall set hym   
fre1   ,hym teachynge a waye of perfyght
 ryhteousnesse1   ,that he shall not    

nede to perysh in hys weaknesse4  ,to   
our ears1 at least1 the older           
miracle-plays were greatly superior4 ,it
 is interesting to find1 however1 in    
this apparently popular mode of         
8building the rhyme0--certainly not the 
lofty rhyme1 for no such crumbling      
foundation could carry any height of    
superstructure--the elements of the most
 popular rhythm of the present day2 a   
rhythm admitting of any number of       
syllables in the line1 from four up to  
twelve1 or even more1 and demanding only
 that there shall be not more than four 
accented syllables in the line4 ,a song 
written with any spirit in this measure 
has1 other things not being quite equal1
 yet almost a certainty of becoming more
 popular than one written in any other  
measure4 ,most of ,barry ,cornwall's and
 ,mrs4 ,heman's songs are written in it4
 ,scott's 8,lay of the ,last ,minstrel10
 ,coleridge's 8,christabel10  ,byron's  
8,siege of ,corinth10 ,shelley's        
8,sensitive ,plant10 are examples of the

 rhythm4 ,spenser is the first who has  
made good use of it4 ,one of the months 
in the 8,shepherd's ,calendar0 is       
composed in it4 ,we quote a few lines   
from this poem1 to show at once the kind
 we mean3--    8,no marvel1 ,thenot1 if 
thou can bear   ,cheerfully the winter's
 wrathful cheer2   ,for age and winter  
accord full nigh2   ,this chill1 that   
cold2 this crooked1 that wry2   ,and as 
the lowering weather looks down1   ,so  
seemest thou like ,good ,friday to      
frown3   ,but my flowering youth is foe 
to frost2   ,my ship unwont in storms to
 be tost40  ,we can trace it slightly in
 ,sir ,thomas ,wyatt1 and we think in   
others who preceded ,spenser4 ,there is 
no sign of it in ,chaucer4 ,but we judge
 it to be the essential rhythm of       
,anglo-,saxon poetry1 which will quite  
harmonize with1 if it cannot explain1   
the fact of its being the most popular  
measure still4 ,shakspere makes a little
 use of it in one1 if not in more1 of   
his plays1 though it there partakes of  

the irregular character of that of the  
older plays which he is imitating4 ,but 
we suspect the clowns of the authorship 
of some of the rhymes1 8speaking more   
than was set down for them10 evidently  
no uncommon offence4  ,prose was        
likewise in use for the drama at an     
early period4  ,but we must now regard  
the application of blank verse to the   
use of the drama4 ,and in this part of  
our subject we owe most to the          
investigations of ,mr4 ,collier1 than   
whom no one has done more to merit our  
gratitude for such aids4 ,it is         
universally acknowledged that 8,ferrex  
and ,porrex0  was the first drama in    
blank verse4 ,but it was never          
represented on the public stage4 ,it was
 the joint production of ,thomas        
,sackville1 afterwards ,lord ,buckhurst 
and ,earl of ,dorset1 and ,thomas       
,norton1 both gentlemen of the ,inner   
,temple1 by the members of which it was 
played before the ,queen at ,whitehall  
in #aefa1 three years before ,shakspere 

was born4 ,as to its merits1 the        
impression left by it upon our minds is 
such that1 although the verse is decent1
 and in some respects irreproachable1 we
 think the time spent in reading it must
 be all but lost to any but those who   
must verify to themselves their literary
 profession2 a profession which1 like   
all other professions1 involves a good  
deal of disagreeable duty4 ,we spare our
 readers all quotation1 there being no  
occasion to show what blank verse of the
 commonest description is4 ,but we beg  
to be allowed to state that this drama  
by no means represents the poetic powers
 of ,thomas ,sackville4 ,for although we
 cannot agree with ,hallam's general    
criticism1 either for or against        
,sackville1 and although we admire      
,spenser1 we hope1 as much as that      
writer could have admired him1 we yet   
venture to say that not only may some of
 ,sackville's personifications 8fairly  
be compared with some of the most       
poetical passages in ,spenser10 but that

 there is in this kind in ,sackville a  
strength and simplicity of              
representation which surpasses that of  
,spenser in passages in which the latter
 probably imitated the former4 ,we refer
 to the allegorical personages in       
,sackville's 8,induction to the ,mirrour
 of ,magistrates10 and in ,spenser's    
description of the 8,house of ,pride40  
,mr4 ,collier judges that the play in   
blank verse first represented on the    
public stage was the 8,tamburlaine0 of  
,christopher ,marlowe1 and that it was  
acted before #aehg1 at which date       
,shakspere would be twenty-three4 ,this 
was followed by other and better plays  
by the same author4 ,although we cannot 
say much for the dramatic art of        
,marlowe1 he has far surpassed every one
 that went before him in dramatic       
poetry4 ,the passages that might        
worthily be quoted from ,marlowe's      
writings for the sake of their poetry   
are innumerable1 notwithstanding that   
there are many others which occupy a    

border land between poetry and bombast1 
and are such that it is to us impossible
 to say to which class they rather      
belong4 ,of course it is easy for a     
critic to gain the credit of            
common-sense at the same time that he   
saves himself the trouble of doing what 
he too frequently shows himself         
incapable of doing to any good          
purpose--we mean thinking--by classing  
all such passages together as           
bombastical nonsense2 but even in the   
matter of poetry and bombast1 a wise    
reader will recognize that extremes so  
entirely meet1 without being in the     
least identical1 that they are capable  
of a sort of chemico-literary admixture1
 if not of combination4 ,goethe himself 
need not have been ashamed to have      
written one or two of the scenes in     
,marlowe's 8,faust20 not that we mean to
 imply that they in the least resemble  
,goethe's handiwork4 ,his verse is1 for 
dramatic purposes1 far inferior to      
,shakspere's2 but it was a great matter 

for ,shakspere that ,marlowe preceded   
him1 and helped to prepare to his hand  
the tools and fashions he needed4 ,the  
provision of blank verse for            
,shakspere's use seems to us worthy of  
being called providential1 even in a    
system in which we cannot believe that  
there is any chance4 ,for as the stage  
itself is elevated a few feet above the 
ordinary level1 because it is the scene 
of a representation1 just so the speech 
of the drama1 dealing not with unreal   
but with ideal persons1 the fool being a
 worthy fool1 and the villain a worthy  
villain1 needs to be elevated some tones
 above that of ordinary life1 which is  
generally flavoured with so much of the 
commonplace4 ,now the commonplace has no
 place at all in the drama of           
,shakspere1 which fact at once elevates 
it above the tone of ordinary life4 ,and
 so the mode of the speech must be      
elevated as well2 therefore from prose  
into blank verse4 ,if we go beyond this1
 we cease to be natural for the stage as

 well as life2 and the result is that   
kind of composition well enough known in
 ,shakspere's time1 which he ridicules  
in the recitations of the player in     
8,hamlet10 about ,priam and ,hecuba4 ,we
 could show the very passages of the    
play-writer ,nash which ,shakspere      
imitates in these4 ,to use another      
figure1 ,shakspere1 in the same play1   
instructs the players 8to hold1 as      
#8twere1 the mirror up to nature40 ,now 
every one must have felt that somehow   
there is a difference between the       
appearance of any object or group of    
objects immediately presented to the    
eye1 and the appearance of the same     
object or objects in a mirror4 ,nature  
herself is not the same in the mirror   
held up to her4 ,everything changes     
sides in this representation2 and the   
room which is an ordinary1 well-known1  
homely room1 gains something of the     
strange and poetic when regarded in the 
mirror over the fire4 ,now for this     
representation1 for this                

mirror-reflection on the stage1 blank   
verse is just the suitable glass to     
receive the silvering of the genius-mind
 behind it4  ,but if ,shakspere had had 
to sit down and make his tools first1   
and then quarry his stone and fell his  
timber for the building of his house1   
instead of finding everything ready to  
his hand for dressing his stone already 
hewn1 for sawing and carving the timber 
already in logs and planks beside him1  
no doubt his house would have been      
built2 but can we with any reason       
suppose that it would have proved such  
8a lordly pleasure-house08 ,not even    
,shakspere could do without his poor    
little brothers who preceded him1 and1  
like the goblins and gnomes of the      
drama1 got everything out of the bowels 
of the dark earth1 ready for the master1
 whom it would have been a shame to see 
working in the gloom and the dust       
instead of in the open eye of the day4  
,nor is anything so helpful to the true 
development of power as the possibility 

of free action for as much of the power 
as is already operative4 ,this room for 
free action was provided by blank verse4
  ,yet when ,shakspere came first upon  
the scene of dramatic labour1 he had to 
serve his private apprenticeship1 to    
which the apprenticeship of the age in  
the drama1 had led up4 ,he had to act   
first of all4 ,driven to ,london and the
 drama by an irresistible impulse1 when 
the choice of some profession was       
necessary to make him independent of his
 father1 seeing he was himself1 though  
very young1 a married man1 the first    
form in which the impulse to the drama  
would naturally show itself in him would
 be the desire to act2 for the outside  
relations would first operate4 ,as to   
the degree of merit he possessed as an  
actor we have but scanty means of       
judging2 for afterwards1 in his own     
plays1 he never took the best           
characters1 having written them for his 
friend ,richard ,burbage4 ,possibly the 
dramatic impulse was sufficiently       

appeased by the writing of the play1 and
 he desired no further satisfaction from
 personal representation2 although the  
amount of study spent upon the higher   
department of the art might have been   
more than sufficient to render him      
unrivalled as well in the presentation  
of his own conceptions4 ,but the        
dramatic spring1 having once broken the 
upper surface1 would scoop out a deeper 
and deeper well for itself to play in1  
and the actor would soon begin to work  
upon the parts he had himself to study  
for presentation4 ,it being found that  
he greatly bettered his own parts1 those
 of others would be submitted to him1   
and at length whole plays committed to  
his revision1 of which kind there may be
 several in the collection of his works4
 ,if the feather-end of his pen is just 
traceable in 8,titus ,andronicus10 the  
point of it is much more evident1 and to
 as good purpose as ,beaumont or        
,fletcher could have used his to1 at the
 best1 in 8,pericles1 ,prince of ,tyre40

 ,nor would it be long before he would  
submit one of his own plays for         
approbation2 and then the whole of his  
dramatic career lies open before him1   
with every possible advantage for       
perfecting the work1 for the undertaking
 of which he was better qualified by    
nature than probably any other man      
whosoever2 for he knew everything about 
acting1 practically--about the          
play-house and its capabilities1 about  
stage necessities1 about the personal   
endowments and individual qualifications
 of each of the company--so that1 when  
he was writing a play1 he could         
distribute the parts before they even   
appeared upon paper1 and write for each 
actor with the very living form of the  
ideal person present 8in his mind's     
eye10 and often to his bodily sight2 so 
that the actual came in aid of the      
ideal1 as it always does if the ideal be
 genuine1 and the loftiest conceptions  
proved the truest to visible nature4    
,this close relation of ,shakspere to   

the actual leads us to a general and    
remarkable fact1 which again will lead  
us back to ,shakspere4 ,all the great   
writers of ,queen ,elizabeth's time were
 men of affairs2 they were not literary 
men merely1 in the general acceptation  
of the word at present4 ,hooker was a   
hard-working1 sheep-keeping1            
cradle-rocking pastor of a country      
parish4 ,bacon's legal duties were      
innumerable before he became ,lord      
,keeper and ,lord ,chancellor4 ,raleigh 
was soldier1 sailor1 adventurer1        
courtier1 politician1 discoverer3       
indeed1 it is to his imprisonment that  
we are indebted for much the most       
ambitious of his literary undertakings1 
8,the ,history of the ,world10 a work   
which for simple majesty of subject and 
style is hardly to be surpassed in      
prose4 ,sidney1 at the age of           
three-and-twenty1 received the highest  
praise for the management of a secret   
embassy to the ,emperor of ,germany2    
took the deepest and most active        

interest in the political affairs of his
 country2 would have sailed with ,sir   
,francis ,drake for ,south ,american    
discovery2 and might probably have been 
king of poor ,poland1 if the queen had  
not been too selfish or wise to spare   
him4 ,the whole of his literary         
productions was the work of his spare   
hours4 ,spenser himself1 who was1 except
 ,shakspere1 the most purely a literary 
man of them all1 was at one time        
,secretary to the ,lord ,deputy of      
,ireland1 and1 later in life1 ,sheriff  
of ,cork4 ,nor is the remark true only  
of the writers of ,elizabeth's period1  
or of the country of ,england4  ,it     
seems to us one of the greatest         
advantages that can befall a poet1 to be
 drawn out of his study1 and still more 
out of the chamber of imagery in his own
 thoughts1 to behold and speculate upon 
the embodiment of ,divine thoughts and  
purposes in men and their affairs around
 him4 ,now ,shakspere had no public     
appointment1 but he reaped all the      

advantage which such could have given   
him1 and more1 from the perfection of   
his dramatic position4 ,it was not with 
making plays alone that he had to do2   
but1 himself an actor1 himself in a     
great measure the owner of more than one
 theatre1 with a little realm far more  
difficult to rule than many a kingdom--a
 company1 namely1 of actors--although   
possibly less difficult from the fact   
that they were only men and boys2 with  
the pecuniary affairs of the management 
likewise under his supervision--he must 
have found1 in the relations and        
necessities of his own profession1 not  
merely enough of the actual to keep him 
real in his representations1 but almost 
sufficient opportunity for his one great
 study1 that of mankind1 independently  
of social and friendly relations1 which 
in his case were of the widest and      
deepest4  ,but ,shakspere had not       
business relations merely3 he was a man 
of business4 ,there is a common blunder 
manifested1 both in theory on the one   

side1 and in practice on the other1     
which the life of ,shakspere sets full  
in the light4 ,the theory is1 that      
genius is a sort of abnormal development
 of the imagination1 to the detriment   
and loss of the practical powers1 and   
that a genius is therefore a kind of    
incapable1 incompetent being1 as far as 
worldly matters are concerned4 ,the most
 complete refutation of this notion lies
 in the fact that the greatest genius   
the world has known was a successful man
 in common affairs4 ,while his genius   
grew in strength1 fervour1 and executive
 power1 his worldly condition rose as   
well2 he became a man of importance in  
the eyes of his townspeople1 by whom he 
would not have been honoured if he had  
not made money2 and he purchased landed 
property in his native place with the   
results of his management of his        
theatres4  ,the practical blunder lies  
in the notion cherished occasionally by 
young people ambitious of literary      
distinction1 that in the pursuit of such

 things they must be content with the   
poverty to which the world dooms its    
greatest men2 accepting their very      
poverty as an additional proof of their 
own genius4 ,if this means that the poet
 is not to make money his object1 it    
means well3 no man should4 ,but if it   
means either that the world is unkind1  
or that the poet is not to 8gather up   
the fragments1 that nothing be lost10 it
 means ill4 ,shakspere did not make     
haste to be rich4 ,he neither blamed1   
courted1 nor neglected the world3 he was
 friendly with it4 ,he could not have   
pinched and scraped2 but neither did he 
waste or neglect his worldly substance1 
which is ,god's gift too4 ,many immense 
fortunes have been made1 not by absolute
 dishonesty1 but in ways to which a man 
of genius ought to be yet more ashamed  
than another to condescend2 but it does 
not therefore follow that if a man of   
genius will do honest work he will not  
make a fair livelihood by it1 which for 
all good results of intellect and heart 

is better than a great fortune4 ,but    
then ,shakspere began with doing what he
 could4 ,he did not consent to starve   
until the world should recognize his    
genius1 or grumble against the blindness
 of the nation in not seeing what it was
 impossible it should see before it was 
fairly set forth4 ,he began at once to  
supply something which the world wanted2
 for it wants many an honest thing4 ,he 
went on the stage and acted1 and so     
gained power to reveal the genius which 
he possessed2 and the world1 in its     
possible measure1 was not slow to       
recognize it4 ,many a young fellow who  
has entered life with the one ambition  
of being a poet1 has failed because he  
did not perceive that it is better to be
 a man than to be a poet1 that it is his
 first duty to get an honest living by  
doing some honest work that he can do1  
and for which there is a demand1        
although it may not be the most pleasant
 employment4 ,time would have shown     
whether he was meant to be a poet or    

not2 and if he had been no poet he would
 have been no beggar2 and if he had     
turned out a poet1 it would have been   
partly in virtue of that experience of  
life and truth1 gained in his case in   
the struggle for bread1 without which1  
gained somehow1 a man may be a sweet    
dreamer1 but can be no strong maker1 no 
poet4 ,in a word1 here is the           
,englishman of genius1 beginning life   
with nothing1 and dying1 not rich1 but  
easy and honoured2 and this by doing    
what no one else could do1 writing      
dramas in which the outward grandeur or 
beauty is but an exponent of the inward 
worth2 hiding pearls for the wise even  
within the jewelled play of the         
variegated bubbles of fancy1 which he   
blew while he wrought1 for the innocent 
delight of his thoughtless brothers and 
sisters4 ,wherever the rainbow of       
,shakspere's genius stands1 there lies1 
indeed1 at the foot of its glorious     
arch1 a golden key1 which will open the 
secret doors of truth1 and admit the    

humble seeker into the presence of      
,wisdom1 who1 having cried in the       
streets in vain1 sits at home and waits 
for him who will come to find her4 ,and 
,shakspere had cakes and ale1 although  
he was virtuous4  ,but what do we know  
about the character of ,shakspere8 ,how 
can we tell the inner life of a man who 
has uttered himself in dramas1 in which 
of course it is impossible that he      
should ever speak in his own person8 ,no
 doubt he may speak his own sentiments  
through the mouths of many of his       
persons2 but how are we to know in what 
cases he does so8--,at least we may     
assert1 as a self-evident negative1 that
 a passage treating of a wide question  
put into the mouth of a person despised 
and rebuked by the best characters in   
the play1 is not likely to contain any  
cautiously formed and cherished opinion 
of the dramatist4 ,at first sight this  
may seem almost a truism2 but we have   
only to remind our readers that one of  
the passages oftenest quoted with       

admiration1 and indeed separately       
printed and illuminated1 is 8,the ,seven
 ,ages of ,man10 a passage full of      
inhuman contempt for humanity and       
unbelief in its destiny1 in which not   
one of the seven ages is allowed to pass
 over its poor sad stage without a      
sneer2 and that this passage is given by
 ,shakspere to the blas sensualist      
,jaques in 8,as ,you ,like it10 a man   
who1 the good and wise ,duke says1 has  
been as vile as it is possible for man  
to be1 so vile that it would be an      
additional sin in him to rebuke sin2 a  
man who never was capable of seeing what
 is good in any man1 and hates men's    
vices because he hates themselves1      
seeing in them only the reflex of his   
own disgust4 ,shakspere knew better than
 to say that all the world is a stage1  
and all the men and women merely        
players4 ,he had been a player himself1 
but only on the stage3 ,jaques had been 
a player where he ought to have been a  
true man4 ,the whole of his account of  

human life is contradicted and exposed  
at once by the entrance1 the very moment
 when he has finished his wicked        
burlesque1 of ,orlando1 the young       
master1 carrying ,adam1 the old servant1
 upon his back4 ,the song that          
immediately follows1 sings true3 8,most 
friendship is feigning1 most loving mere
 folly40 ,but between the all of ,jaques
 and the most of the song1 there is just
 the difference between earth and       
hell4--,of course1 both from a literary 
and dramatic point of view1 8,the ,seven
 ,ages0 is perfect4  ,now let us make   
one positive statement to balance the   
other3 that wherever we find1 in the    
mouth of a noble character1 not stock   
sentiments of stage virtue1 but         
appreciation of a truth which it needs  
deep thought and experience united with 
love of truth1 to discover or verify for
 one's self1 especially if the truth be 
of a sort which most men will fail not  
merely to recognize as a truth1 but to  
understand at all1 because the          

understanding of it depends on the      
foregoing spiritual perception--then we 
think we may receive the passage as an  
expression of the inner soul of the     
writer4 ,he must have seen it before he 
could have said it2 and to see such a   
truth is to love it2 or rather1 love of 
truth in the general must have preceded 
and enabled to the discovery of it4     
,such a passage is the speech of the    
,duke1 opening the second act of the    
play just referred to1 8,as ,you ,like  
it40 ,the lesson it contains is1 that   
the well-being of a man cannot be       
secured except he partakes of the ills  
of life1 8the penalty of ,adam40 ,and it
 seems to us strange that the excellent 
editors of the ,cambridge edition1 now  
in the course of publication--a great   
boon to all students of                 
,shakspere--should not have perceived   
that the original reading1 that of the  
folios1 is the right one1--    8,here   
feel we not the penalty of ,adam80      
which1 with the point of interrogation  

supplied1 furnishes the true meaning of 
the whole passage2 namely1 that the     
penalty of ,adam is just what makes the 
8wood more free from peril than the     
envious court10  teaching each 8not to  
think of himself more highly than he    
ought to think40  ,but ,shakspere1      
although everywhere felt1 is nowhere    
seen in his plays4 ,he is too true an   
artist to show his own face from behind 
the play of life with which he fills his
 stage4 ,what we can find of him there  
we must find by regarding the whole1 and
 allowing the spiritual essence of the  
whole to find its way to our brain1 and 
thence to our heart4 ,the student of    
,shakspere becomes imbued with the idea 
of his character4 ,it exhales from his  
writings4 ,and when we have found the   
main drift of any play--the grand       
rounding of the whole--then by that we  
may interpret individual passages4 ,it  
is alone in their relation to the whole 
that we can do them full justice1 and in
 their relation to the whole that we    

discover the mind of the master4  ,but  
we have another source of more direct   
enlightenment as to ,shakspere himself4 
,we only say more direct1 not more      
certain or extended enlightenment4 ,we  
have one collection of poems in which he
 speaks in his own person and of        
himself4 ,of course we refer to his     
sonnets4 ,though these occupy1 with     
their presentation of himself1 such a   
small relative space1 they yet admirably
 round and complete1 to our eyes1 the   
circle of his individuality4 ,in them   
and the plays the common saying--one of 
the truest--that extremes meet1 is      
verified4 ,no man is complete in whom   
there are no extremes1 or in whom those 
extremes do not meet4 ,now the very     
individuality of ,shakspere1 judged by  
his dramas alone1 has been declared     
nonexistent2 while in the sonnets he    
manifests some of the deepest phases of 
a healthy self-consciousness4 ,we do not
 intend to enter into the still         
unsettled question as to whether these  

sonnets were addressed to a man or a    
woman4 ,we have scarcely a doubt left on
 the question ourselves1 as will be seen
 from the argument we found on our      
conviction4 ,we cannot say we feel much 
interest in the other question1 ,if a   
man1 what man8 ,a few placed at the end1
 arranged as they have come down to us1 
are beyond doubt addressed to a woman4  
,but the difference in tone between     
these and the others we think very      
remarkable4 ,possibly at the time they  
were written--most of them early in his 
life1 as it appears to us1 although they
 were not published till the year #afji1
 when he was forty-five years of age1   
,meres referring to them in the year    
#aeih1 eleven years before1 as known    
8among his private friends0--he had not 
known such women as he knew afterwards1 
and hence the true devotion of his soul 
is given to a friend of his own sex4    
,gervinus1 whose lectures on ,shakspere1
 profound and lofty to a degree         
unattempted by any other interpreter1 we

 are glad to find have been done into a 
suitable ,english translation1 under the
 superintendence of the author          
himself--,gervinus says somewhere in    
them that1 as ,shakspere lived and      
wrote1 his ideal of womanhood grew      
nobler and purer4 ,certainly the woman  
to whom the last few of these sonnets   
are addressed was neither noble nor     
pure4 ,we think1 in this matter at      
least1 they record one of his early     
experiences4  ,we shall briefly indicate
 what we find in these sonnets about the
 man himself1 and shall commence with   
what is least pleasing and of least     
value4  ,we must confess1 then1 that1   
probably soon after he came first to    
,london1 he1 then a married man1 had an 
intrigue with a married woman1 of which 
there are indications that he was       
afterwards deeply ashamed4 ,one little  
incident seems curiously traceable3 that
 he had given her a set of tablets which
 his friend had given him2 and the      
sonnet in which he excuses himself to   

his friend for having done so1 seems to 
us the only piece of special pleading1  
and therefore ungenuine expression1 in  
the whole4 ,this friend1 to whom the    
rest of the sonnets are addressed1 made 
the acquaintance of this woman1 and both
 were false to ,shakspere4 ,even        
,shakspere could not keep the love of a 
worthless woman4 ,so much the better for
 him2 but it is a sad story at best4    
,yet even in this environment of evil we
 see the nobility of the man1 and his   
real self4 ,the sonnets in which he     
mourns his friend's falsehood1 forgives 
him1 and even finds excuses for him1    
that he may not lose his own love of    
him1 are1 to our minds1 amongst the most
 beautiful1 as they are the most        
profound4 ,of these are the #ccrd and   
#cdth4 ,nor does he stop here1 but      
proceeds in the following1 the #ceth1 to
 comfort his friend in his grief for his
 offence1 even accusing himself of      
offence in having made more excuse for  
his fault than the fault needed6 ,but to

 leave this part of his history1 which1 
as far as we know1 stands alone1 and yet
 cannot with truth be passed by1 any    
more than the story of the crime of     
,david1 though in this case there is no 
comparison to be made between the two   
further than the primary fact1 let us   
look at the one reality which1 from a   
spiritual point of view1 independently  
of the literary beauties of these poems1
 causes them to stand all but alone in  
literature4 ,we mean what has been      
unavoidably touched upon already1 the   
devotion of his friendship4 ,we have    
said this makes the poems stand all but 
alone2 for we ought to be better able to
 understand these poems of ,shakspere1  
from the fact that in our day has       
appeared the only other poem which is   
like these1 and which casts back a light
 upon them4    8,yet turn thee to the   
doubtful shore1     ,where thy first    
form was made a man3     ,i loved thee1 
spirit1 and love2 nor can   ,the soul of
 ,shakspeare love thee more40  ,so sings

 the ,poet of our day1 in the loftiest  
of his poems--8,in                      
,memoriam0--addressing the spirit of his
 vanished friend4 ,in the midst of his  
song arises the thought of the ,poet of 
all time1 who loved his friend too1 and 
would have lost him in a way far worse  
than death1 had not his love been too   
strong even for that death1 alone       
ghastly1 which threatened to cut the    
golden chain that bound them1 and part  
them by the gulf impassable4 ,tennyson's
 friend had never wronged him2 and to   
the divineness of ,shakspere's love is  
added that of forgiveness4 ,such love as
 this between man and man is rare1 and  
therefore to the mind which is in itself
 no way rare1 incredible1 because       
unintelligible4 ,but though all the     
commonest things are very divine1 yet   
divine individuality is and will be a   
rare thing at any given period on the   
earth4 ,faith1 in its ideal sense1 will 
always be hard to find on the earth4    
,but perhaps this kind of affection     

between man and man may1 as ,coleridge  
indicates in his 8,table ,talk10 have   
been more common in the reigns of       
,elizabeth and ,james than it is now4   
,there is a certain dread of the        
demonstrative in the present day1 which 
may1 perhaps1 be carried into regions   
where it is out of place1 and hinder the
 development of a devotion which must be
 real1 and grand1 and divine1 if one man
 such as ,shakspere or ,tennyson has    
ever felt it4 ,if one has felt it1      
humanity may claim it4 ,and surely ,he  
who is the ,son of man has verified the 
claim4 ,we believe there are indeed few 
of us who know what to love our         
neighbour as ourselves means2 but when  
we find a man here and there in the     
course of centuries who does1 we may    
take this man as the prophet of coming  
good for his race1 his prophecy being   
himself4  ,but next to the interest of  
knowing that a man could love so well1  
comes the association of this fact with 
his art4 ,he who could look abroad upon 

men1 and understand them all--who stood1
 as it were1 in the wide-open gates of  
his palace1 and admitted with welcome   
every one who came in sight--had in the 
inner places of that palace one chamber 
in which he met his friend1 and in which
 his whole soul went forth to understand
 the soul of his friend4 ,the man to    
whom nothing in humanity was common or  
unclean2 in whom the most remarkable of 
his artistic morals is fair-play2 who   
fills our hearts with a saintly love for
 ,cordelia and an admiration of ,sir    
,john ,falstaff the lost gentleman1     
mournful even in the height of our      
laughter2 who could make an ,autolycus  
and a ,macbeth both human1 and an ,ariel
 and a ,puck neither human--this is the 
man who loved best4 ,and we believe that
 this depth of capacity for loving lay  
at the root of all his knowledge of men 
and women1 and all his dramatic         
pre-eminence4 ,the heart is more        
intelligent than the intellect4 ,well   
says the poet ,matthew ,raydon1 who has 

hardly left anything behind him but the 
lamentation over ,sir ,philip ,sidney in
 which the lines occur1--    8,he that  
hath love and judgment too   ,sees more 
than any other do40  ,simply1 we believe
 that this1 not this only1 but this more
 than any other endowment1 made         
,shakspere the artist he was1 in        
providing him all the material of       
humanity to work upon1 and keeping him  
to the true spirit of its use4 ,love    
looking forth upon strife1 understood it
 all4 ,love is the true revealer of     
secrets1 because it makes one with the  
object regarded4  8,but10 say some      
impatient readers1 8when shall we have  
done with ,shakspere8 ,there is no end  
to this writing about him40 ,it will be 
a bad day for ,england when we have done
 with ,shakspere2 for that will imply1  
along with the loss of him1 that we are 
no longer capable of understanding him4 
,should that time ever come1 ,heaven    
grant the generation which does not     
understand him at least the grace to    

keep its pens off him1 which will by no 
means follow as a necessary consequence 
of the non-intelligence6 ,but the       
writing about ,shakspere which has been 
hitherto so plentiful must do good just 
in proportion as it directs attention to
 him and gives aid to the understanding 
of him4 ,and while the utterances of    
to-day pass away1 the children of       
to-morrow are born1 and require a new   
utterance for their fresh need from     
those who1 having gone before1 have     
already tasted life and ,shakspere1 and 
can give some little help to further    
progress than their own1 by telling the 
following generation what they have     
found4 ,suppose that this cry had been  
raised last century1 after good ,dr4    
,johnson had ceased to produce to the   
eyes of men the facts about his own     
incapacity which he presumed to be      
criticisms of ,shakspere1 where would   
our aids be now to the understanding of 
the dramatist8 ,our own conviction is1  
when we reflect with how much labour we 

have deepened our knowledge of him1 and 
thereby found in him the best--for the  
best lies not on the surface for the    
careless reader--our own conviction is1 
that not half has been done that ought  
to be done to help young people at least
 to understand the master mind of their 
country4 ,few among them can ever give  
the attention or work to it that we have
 given2 but much may be done with       
judicious aid4 ,and a profound knowledge
 of their greatest writer would do more 
than almost anything else to bind       
together as ,englishmen1 in a true and  
unselfish way1 the hearts of the coming 
generations2 for his works are our      
country in a convex magic mirror4  ,when
 a man finds that every time he reads a 
book not only does some obscurity melt  
away1 but deeper depths1 which he had   
not before seen1 dawn upon him1 he is   
not likely to think that the time for   
ceasing to write about the book has     
come4 ,and certainly in ,shakspere1 as  
in all true artistic work1 as in nature 

herself1 the depths are not to be       
revealed utterly2 while every new       
generation needs a new aid towards      
discovering itself and its own thoughts 
in these forms of the past4 ,and of all 
that read about ,shakspere there are few
 whom more than one or two utterances   
have reached4 ,the speech or the writing
 must go forth to find the soil for the 
growth of its kernel of truth4 ,we      
shall1 therefore1 with the full         
consciousness that perhaps more has been
 already said and written about         
,shakspere than about any other writer1 
yet venture to add to the mass by a few 
general remarks4  ,and first we would   
remind our readers of the marvel of the 
combination in ,shakspere of such a high
 degree of two faculties1 one of which  
is generally altogether inferior to the 
other3 the faculties of reception and   
production4 ,rarely do we find that     
great receptive power1 brought into     
operation either by reading or by       
observation1 is combined with           

originality of thought4 ,some hungers   
are quite satisfied by taking in what   
others have thought and felt and done4  
,by the assimilation of this food many  
minds grow and prosper2 but other minds 
feed far more upon what rises from their
 own depths2 in the answers they are    
compelled to provide to the questions   
that come unsought2 in the theories they
 cannot help constructing for the       
inclusion in one whole of the various   
facts around them1 which seem at first  
sight to strive with each other like the
 atoms of a chaos2 in the examination of
 those impulses of hidden origin which  
at one time indicate a height of being  
far above the thinker's present         
condition1 at another a gulf of evil    
into which he may possibly fall4 ,but in
 ,shakspere the two powers of beholding 
and originating meet like the rejoining 
halves of a sphere4 ,a man who thinks   
his own thoughts much1 will often walk  
through ,london streets and see nothing4
 ,in the man who observes only1 every   

passing object mirrors itself in its    
prominent peculiarities1 having a kind  
of harmony with all the rest1 but       
arouses no magician from the inner      
chamber to charm and chain its image to 
his purpose4 ,in ,shakspere1 on the     
contrary1 every outer form of humanity  
and nature spoke to that ever-moving1   
self-vindicating--we had almost said1   
and in a sense it would be true1        
self-generating--humanity within him4   
,the sound of any action without him1   
struck in him just the chord which1 in  
motion in him1 would have produced a    
similar action4 ,when anything was done1
 he felt as if he were doing            
it--perception and origination          
conjoining in one consciousness4  ,but  
to this gift was united the gift of     
utterance1 or representation4 ,many a   
man both receives and generates who1    
somehow1 cannot represent4 ,nothing is  
more disappointing sometimes than our   
first experience of the artistic        
attempts of a man who has roused our    

expectations by a social display of     
familiarity with1 and command over1 the 
subjects of conversation4 ,have we not  
sometimes found that when such a one    
sought to give vital or artistic form to
 these thoughts1 so that they might not 
be born and die in the same moment upon 
his lips1 but might exist1 a poor1 weak1
 faded simulacrum alone was the result8 
,now ,shakspere was a great talker1 who 
enraptured the listeners1 and was       
himself so rapt in his speech that he   
could scarcely come to a close2 but when
 he was alone with his art1 then and    
then only did he rise to the height of  
his great argument1 and all the talk was
 but as the fallen mortar and stony     
chips lying about the walls of the great
 temple of his drama4  ,but1 along with 
all this wealth of artistic speech1 an  
artistic virtue of an opposite nature   
becomes remarkable3 his reticence4 ,how 
often might he not say fine things1     
particularly poetic things1 when he does
 not1 because it would not suit the     

character or the time6 ,how many        
delicate points are there not in his    
plays which we only discover after many 
readings1 because he will not put a     
single tone of success into the flow of 
natural utterance1 to draw our attention
 to the triumph of the author1 and jar  
with the all-important reality of his   
production6 ,wherever an author obtrudes
 his own self-importance1 an unreality  
is the consequence1 of a nature similar 
to that which we feel in the old moral  
plays1 when historical and allegorical  
personages1 such as ,julius ,caesar and 
,charity1 for instance1 are introduced  
at the same time on the same stage1     
acting in the same story4 ,shakspere    
never points to any stroke of his own   
wit or art4 ,we may find it or not3     
there it is1 and no matter if no one see
 it6  ,much has been disputed about the 
degree of consciousness of his own art  
possessed by ,shakspere3 whether he did 
it by a grand yet blind impulse1 or     
whether he knew what he wanted to do1   

and knowingly used the means to arrive  
at that end4 ,now we cannot here enter  
upon the question2 but we would         
recommend any of our readers who are    
interested in it not to attempt to make 
up their minds upon it before           
considering a passage in another of his 
poems1 which may throw some light on the
 subject for them4 ,it is the           
description of a painting1 contained in 
8,the ,rape of ,lucrece10 towards the   
end of the poem4 ,its very minuteness   
involves the expression of principles1  
and reveals that1 in relation to an art 
not his own1 he could hold principles of
 execution1 and indicate perfection of  
finish1 which1 to say the least1 must   
proceed from a general capacity for art1
 and therefore might find an equally    
conscious operation in his own peculiar 
province of it4 ,for our own part1 we   
think that his results are a perfect    
combination of the results of           
consciousness and unconsciousness2      
consciousness where the arrangements of 

the play1 outside the region of         
inspiration1 required the care of the   
wakeful intellect2 unconsciousness where
 the subject itself bore him aloft on   
the wings of its own creative delight4  
,there is another manifestation of his  
power which will astonish those who     
consider it4 ,it is this3 that1 while he
 was able to go down to the simple and  
grand realities of human nature1 which  
are all tragic2 and while1 therefore1 he
 must rejoice most in such              
contemplations of human nature as find  
fit outlet in a 8,hamlet10 a 8,lear10 a 
8,timon10 or an 8,othello10 the         
tragedies of ,doubt1 ,ingratitude1 and  
,love1 he can yet1 when he chooses1     
float on the very surface of human      
nature1 as in 8,love's ,labour's ,lost10
 8,the ,merry ,wives of ,windsor10 8,the
 ,comedy of ,errors10 8,the ,taming of  
the ,shrew20 or he can descend half way 
as it were1 and there remain suspended  
in the characters and feelings of       
ordinary nice people1 who1 interesting  

enough to meet in society1 have neither 
received that development1 nor are      
placed in those circumstances1 which    
admit of the highest and simplest poetic
 treatment4 ,in these he will bring out 
the ordinary noble or the ordinary      
vicious4 ,of this nature are most of his
 comedies1 in which he gives an ideal   
representation of common social life1   
and steers perfectly clear of what in   
such relations and surroundings would be
 heroics4 ,look how steadily he keeps   
the noble-minded youth ,orlando in this 
middle region2 and look how the best    
comes out at last in the wayward and    
recalcitrant and bizarre1 but honest and
 true natures of ,beatrice and          
,benedick2 and this without any untruth 
to the nature of comedy1 although the   
circumstances border on the tragic4     
,when he wants to give the deeper       
affairs of the heart1 he throws the     
whole at once out of the social circle  
with its multiform restraints4 ,as in   
8,hamlet0 the stage on which the whole  

is acted is really the heart of ,hamlet1
 so he makes his visible stage as it    
were1 slope off into the misty infinite1
 with a grey1 starless heaven overhead1 
and ,hades open beneath his feet4 ,hence
 young people brought up in the country 
understand the tragedies far sooner than
 they can comprehend the comedies4 ,it  
needs acquaintance with society and     
social ways to clear up the latter4     
,the remarks we have made on 8,hamlet0  
by way of illustration1 lead us to point
 out how ,shakspere prepares1 in some of
 his plays1 a stage suitable for all the
 representation4 ,in 8,a ,midsummer     
,night's ,dream0 the place which gives  
tone to the whole is a midnight wood in 
the first flush and youthful delight of 
summer4 ,in 8,as ,you ,like it0 it is a 
daylight wood in spring1 full of morning
 freshness1 with a cold wind now and    
then blowing through the half-clothed   
boughs4 ,in 8,the ,tempest0 it is a     
solitary island1 circled by the         
mysterious sea-horizon1 over which what 

may come who can tell8--a place where   
the magician may work his will1 and have
 all nature at the beck of his superior 
knowledge4  ,the only writer who would  
have had a chance of rivalling          
,shakspere in his own walk1 if he had   
been born in the same period of ,english
 history1 is ,chaucer4 ,he has the same 
gift of individualizing the general1 and
 idealizing the portrait4 ,but the best 
of the dramatic writers of ,shakspere's 
time1 in their desire of dramatic       
individualization1 forget the modifying 
multiformity belonging to individual    
humanity4 ,in their anxiety to present a
 character1 they take1 as it were1 a    
human mould1 label it with a certain    
peculiarity1 and then fill in speeches  
and forms according to the label4 ,thus 
the indications of character1 of        
peculiarity1 so predominate1 the whole  
is so much of one colour1 that the      
result resembles one of those           
allegorical personifications in which1  
as much as possible1 everything human is

 eliminated except what belongs to the  
peculiarity1 the personification4 ,how  
different is it with ,shakspere's       
representations6 ,he knows that no human
 being ever was like that4 ,he makes his
 most peculiar characters speak very    
much like other people2 and it is only  
over the whole that their peculiarities 
manifest themselves with indubitable    
plainness4 ,the one apparent exception  
is ,jaques1 in 8,as ,you ,like it40 ,but
 there we must remember that ,shakspere 
is representing a man who so chooses to 
represent himself4 ,he is a man in his  
humour1 or his own peculiar and chosen  
affectation4 ,jaques is the writer of   
his own part2 for with him 8all the     
world's a stage1 and all the men and    
women10 himself first1 8merely players40
 ,we have his own presentation of       
himself1 not1 first of all1 as he is1   
but as he chooses to be taken4 ,of      
course his real self does come out in   
it1 for no man can seem altogether other
 than he is2 and besides1 the ,duke1 who

 sees quite through him1 rebukes him in 
the manner already referred to2 but it  
is his affectation that gives him the   
unnatural peculiarity of his modes and  
speeches4 ,he wishes them to be such4   
,there is1 then1 for every one of       
,shakspere's characters the firm ground 
of humanity1 upon which the weeds1 as   
well as the flowers1 glorious or        
fantastic1 as the case may be1 show     
themselves4 ,his more heroic persons are
 the most profoundly human4 ,nor are his
 villains unhuman1 although inhuman     
enough4 ,compared with ,marlowe's ,jew1 
,shylock is a terrible man beside a     
dreary monster1 and1 as far as logic and
 the lex talionis go1 has the best of   
the argument4 ,it is the strength of    
human nature itself that makes crime    
strong4 ,wickedness could have no power 
of itself3 it lives by the perverted    
powers of good4 ,and so great is        
,shakspere's sympathy with ,shylock     
even1 in the hard and unjust doom that  
overtakes him1 that he dismisses him    

with some of the spare sympathies of the
 more tender-hearted of his spectators4 
,nowhere is the justice of genius more  
plain than in ,shakspere's utter freedom
 from party-spirit1 even with regard to 
his own creations4 ,each character shall
 set itself forth from its own point of 
view1 and only in the choice and scope  
of the whole shall the judgment of the  
poet be beheld4 ,he never allows his    
opinion to come out to the damaging of  
the individual's own self-presentation4 
,he knows well that for the worst       
something can be said1 and that a       
feeling of justice and his own right    
will be strong in the mind of a man who 
is yet swayed by perfect selfishness4   
,therefore the false man is not         
discoverable in his speech1 not merely  
because the villain will talk as like a 
true man as he may1 but because seldom  
is the villainy clear to the villain's  
own mind4 ,it is impossible for us to   
determine whether1 in their fierce      
bandying of the lie1 ,bolingbroke or    

,norfolk spoke the truth4 ,doubtless    
each believed the other to be the       
villain that he called him4 ,and        
,shakspere has no desire or need to act 
the historian in the decision of that   
question4 ,he leaves his reader in full 
sympathy with the perplexity of         
,richard2 as puzzled1 in fact1 as if he 
had been present at the interrupted     
combat4  ,if every writer could write up
 to his own best1 we should have far    
less to marvel at in ,shakspere4 ,it is 
in great measure the wealth of          
,shakspere's suggestions1 giving him    
abundance of the best to choose from1   
that lifts him so high above those who1 
having felt the inspiration of a good   
idea1 are forced to go on writing1      
constructing1 carpentering1 with dreary 
handicraft1 before the exhausted faculty
 has recovered sufficiently to generate 
another4 ,and then comes in the unerring
 choice of the best of those            
suggestions4 ,yet if any one wishes to  
see what variety of the same kind of    

thoughts he could produce1 let him      
examine the treatment of the same       
business in different plays2 as1 for    
instance1 the way in which instigation  
to a crime is managed in 8,macbeth10    
where ,macbeth tempts the two murderers 
to kill ,banquo2 in 8,king ,john10 when 
the ,king tempts ,hubert to kill        
,arthur2 in 8,the ,tempest10 when       
,antonio tempts ,sebastian to kill      
,alonzo2 in 8,as ,you ,like it10 when   
,oliver instigates ,charles to kill     
,orlando2 and in 8,hamlet10 where       
,claudius urges ,laertes to the murder  
of ,hamlet4  ,he shows no anxiety about 
being original4 ,when a man is full of  
his work he forgets himself4 ,in his    
desire to produce a good play he lays   
hold upon any material that offers      
itself4 ,he will even take a bad play   
and make a good one of it4 ,one of the  
most remarkable discoveries to the      
student of ,shakspere is the hide-bound 
poverty of some of the stories1 which1  
informed by his life-power2 become forms

 of strength1 richness1 and grace4 ,he  
does what the ,spirit in 8,comus0 says  
the music he heard might do1--          
8create a soul   ,under the ribs of     
death20  and then death is straightway  
8clothed upon40 ,and nowhere is the     
refining operation of his genius more   
evident than in the purification of     
these stories4 ,characters and incidents
 which would have been honey and nuts to
 ,beaumont and ,fletcher are1           
notwithstanding their dramatic          
recommendations1 entirely remodelled by 
him4 ,the fair ,ophelia is1 in the old  
tale1 a common woman1 and ,hamlet's     
mistress2 while the policy of the ,lady 
of ,belmont1 who in the old story       
occupies the place for which he invented
 the lovely ,portia1 upon which policy  
the whole story turns1 is such that it  
is as unfit to set forth in our pages as
 it was unfit for ,shakspere's purposes 
of art4 ,his noble art refuses to work  
upon base matter4 ,he sees at once the  
capabilities of a tale1 but he will not 

use it except he may do with it what he 
pleases4  ,if we might here offer some  
assistance to the young student who     
wants to help himself1 we would suggest 
that to follow1 in a measure1           
,plutarch's fashion of comparison1 will 
be the most helpful guide to the        
understanding of the poet4 ,let the     
reader take any two characters1 and     
putting them side by side1 look first   
for differences1 and then for           
resemblances between them1 with the     
causes of each2 or let him make a wider 
attempt1 and setting two plays one over 
against the other1 compare or contrast  
them1 and see what will be the result4  
,let him1 for instance1 take the two    
characters ,hamlet and ,brutus1 and     
compare their beginnings and endings1   
the resemblances in their characters1   
the differences in their conduct1 the   
likeness and unlikeness of what was     
required of them1 the circumstances in  
which action was demanded of each1 the  
helps or hindrances each had to the     

working out of the problem of his life1 
the way in which each encounters the    
supernatural1 or any other question that
 may suggest itself in reading either of
 the plays1 ending off with the main    
lesson taught in each2 and he will be   
astonished to find1 if he has not       
already discovered it1 what a rich mine 
of intellectual and spiritual wealth is 
laid open to his delighted eyes4        
,perhaps not the least valuable end to  
be so gained is1 that the young         
,englishman1 who wants to be delivered  
from any temptation to think himself the
 centre around which the universe       
revolves1 will be aided in his          
endeavours after honourable humility by 
looking up to the man who towers1 like  
,saul1 head and shoulders above his     
brethren1 and seeing that he is humble1 
may learn to leave it to the pismire to 
be angry1 to the earwig to be conceited1
 and to the spider to insist on his own 
importance4  ,but to return to the main 
course of our observations4 ,the dramas 

of ,shakspere are so natural1 that this1
 the greatest praise that can be given  
them1 is the ground of one of the       
difficulties felt by the young student  
in estimating them4 ,the very simplicity
 of ,shakspere's art seems to throw him 
out of any known groove of judgment4    
,when he hears one say1 8,look at this1 
and admire10 he feels inclined to       
rejoin1 8,why1 he only says in the      
simplest way what the thing must have   
been4 ,it is as plain as daylight40     
,yes1 to the reader2 and because        
,shakspere wrote it4 ,but there were a  
thousand wrong ways of doing it3        
,shakspere took the one right way4 ,it  
is he who has made it plain in art1     
whatever it was before in nature2 and   
most likely the very simplicity of it in
 nature was scarcely observed before he 
saw it and represented it4 ,and is it   
not the glory of art to attain this     
simplicity8 for simplicity is the end of
 all things--all manners1 all morals1   
all religion4 ,to say that the thing    

could not have been done otherwise1 is  
just to say that you forget the art in  
beholding its object1 that you forget   
the mirror because you see nature       
reflected in the mirror4 ,any one can   
see the moon in ,lord ,rosse's          
telescope2 but who made the reflector8  
,and let the student try to express     
anything in prose or in verse1 in       
painting or in modelling1 just as it is4
 ,no man knows till he has made many    
attempts1 how hard to reach is this     
simplicity of art4 ,and the greater the 
success1 the fewer are the signs of the 
labour expended4 ,simplicity is art's   
perfection4  ,but so natural are all his
 plays1 and the great tragedies to which
 we would now refer in particular1      
amongst the rest1 that it may appear to 
some1 at first sight1 that ,shakspere   
could not have constructed them after   
any moral plan1 could have had no lesson
 of his own to teach in them1 seeing    
they bear no marks of individual intent1
 in that they depart nowhere from1      

nature1 the construction of the play    
itself going straight on like a history4
 ,the directness of his plays springs in
 part from the fact that it is humanity 
and not circumstance that ,shakspere    
respects4 ,circumstance he uses only for
 the setting forth of humanity2 and for 
the plot of circumstance1 so much in    
favour with ,ben ,jonson1 and others of 
his contemporaries1 he cares nothing4   
,as to their looking too natural to have
 any design in them1 we are not of those
 who believe that it is unlike nature to
 have a design and a result4 ,if the    
proof of a high aim is to be what the   
critics used to call poetic justice1 a  
kind of justice that one would gladly   
find more of in grocers' and            
linen-drapers' shops1 but can as well   
spare from a poem1 then we must say that
 he has not always a high end3 the      
wicked man is not tortured1 nor is the  
good man smothered in bank-notes and    
rose-leaves4 ,even when he shows the    
outward ruin and death that comes upon  

,macbeth at last1 it is only as an      
unavoidable little consequence1         
following in the wake of the mighty     
vengeance of nature1 even of ,god1 that 
,macbeth cannot say ,amen2 that ,macbeth
 can sleep no more2 that ,macbeth is    
8cabined cribbed1 confined1 bound in to 
saucy doubts and fears20 that his very  
brain is a charnel-house1 whence arise  
the ghosts of his own murders1 till he  
envies the very dead the rest to which  
his hand has sent them4 ,that immediate 
and eternal vengeance upon crime1 and   
that inner reward of well-doing1 never  
fail in nature or in ,shakspere1 appear 
as such a matter of course that they    
hardly look like design either in nature
 or in the mirror which he holds up to  
her4 ,the secret is that1 in the ideal1 
habit and design are one4  ,most authors
 seem anxious to round off and finish   
everything in full sight4 ,most of      
,shakspere's tragedies compel our       
thoughts to follow their persons across 
the bourn4 ,they need1 as ,jean ,paul   

says1 a piece of the next world painted 
in to complete the picture1 ,and this is
 surely nature3 but it need not         
therefore be no design4 ,what could be  
done with ,hamlet1 but send him into a  
region where he has some chance of      
finding his difficulties solved2 where  
he will know that his reverence for     
,god1 which was the sole stay left him  
in the flood of human worthlessness1 has
 not been in vain2 that the skies are   
not 8a foul and pestilent congregation  
of vapours20 that there are noble women1
 though his mother was false and        
,ophelia weak2 and that there are noble 
men1 although his uncle and ,laertes    
were villains and his old companions    
traitors8 ,if ,hamlet is not to die1 the
 whole of the play must perish under the
 accusation that the hero of it is left 
at last with only a superadded misery1 a
 fresh demand for action1 namely1 to    
rule a worthless people1 as they seem to
 him1 when action has for him become    
impossible2 that he has to live on1     

forsaken even of death1 which will not  
come though the cup of misery is at the 
brim4  ,but a high end may be gained in 
this world1 and the vision into the     
world beyond so justified1 as in ,king  
,lear4 ,the passionate1 impulsive1      
unreasoning old king certainly must have
 given his wicked daughters occasion    
enough of making the charges to which   
their avarice urged them4 ,he had       
learned very little by his life of      
kingship4 ,he was but a boy with grey   
hair4 ,he had had no inner experiences4 
,and so all the development of manhood  
and age has to be crowded into the few  
remaining weeks of his life4 ,his own   
folly and blindness supply the occasion4
 ,and before the few weeks are gone1 he 
has passed through all the stages of a  
fever of indignation and wrath1 ending  
in a madness from which love redeems    
him2 he has learned that a king is      
nothing if the man is nothing2 that a   
king ought to care for those who cannot 
help themselves2 that love has not its  

origin or grounds in favours flowing    
from royal resource and munificence1 and
 yet that love is the one thing worth   
living for1 which gained1 it is time to 
die4 ,and now that he has the experience
 that life can give1 has become a child 
in simplicity of heart and judgment1 he 
cannot lose his daughter again2 who1    
likewise1 has learned the one thing she 
needed1 as far as her father was        
concerned1 a little more excusing       
tenderness4 ,in the same play it cannot 
be by chance that at its commencement   
,gloucester speaks with the utmost      
carelessness and off-hand wit about the 
parentage of his natural son ,edmund1   
but finds at last that this son is his  
ruin4  ,edgar1 the true son1 says to    
,edmund1 after having righteously dealt 
him his death-wound1--    8,the gods are
 just1 and of our pleasant vices   ,make
 instruments to scourge us3   ,the dark 
and vicious place where thee he got     
,cost him his eyes40  ,to which the     
dying and convicted villain replies1--  

8,thou hast spoken right2 #8tis true3   
,the wheel is come full circle2 ,i am   
here40  ,could anything be put more     
plainly than the moral lesson in this8  
,it would be easy to produce examples of
 fine design from his comedies as well2 
as for instance1 from 8,much ,ado about 
,nothing30 the two who are made to fall 
in love with each other1 by being each  
severally assured of possessing the love
 of the other1 ,beatrice and ,benedick1 
are shown beforehand to have a strong   
inclination towards each other1         
manifested in their continual squabbling
 after a good-humoured fashion2 but not 
all this is sufficient to make them     
heartily in love1 until they find out   
the nobility of each other's character  
in their behaviour about the calumniated
 ,hero2 and the author takes care they  
shall not be married without a previous 
acquaintance with the trick that has    
been played upon them4 ,indeed we think 
the remark1 that ,shakspere never leaves
 any of his characters the same at the  

end of a play as he took them up at the 
beginning1 will be found to be true4    
,they are better or worse1 wiser or more
 irretrievably foolish4 ,the historical 
plays would illustrate the remark as    
well as any4  ,but of all the terrible  
plays we are inclined to think 8,timon0 
the most terrible1 and to doubt whether 
justice has been done to the finish and 
completeness of it4 ,at the same time we
 are inclined to think that it was      
printed 7first in the first folio1      
#afbc1 seven years after ,shakspere's   
death7 from a copy1 corrected by the    
author1 but not written fair1 and       
containing consequent mistakes4 ,the    
same account might belong to others of  
the plays1 but more evidently perhaps   
belongs to the 8,timon40 ,the idea of   
making the generous spendthrift1 whose  
old idolaters had forsaken him because  
the idol had no more to give1 into the  
high-priest of the ,temple of ,mammon1  
dispensing the gold which he hated and  
despised1 that it might be a curse to   

the race which he had learned to hate   
and despise as well2 and the way in     
which ,shakspere discloses the depths of
 ,timon's wound1 by bringing him into   
comparison with one who hates men by    
profession and humour--are as powerful  
as anything to be found even in         
,shakspere4  ,we are very willing to    
believe that 8,julius ,caesar0 was one  
of his latest plays2 for certainly it is
 the play in which he has represented a 
hero in the high and true sense4 ,brutus
 is this hero1 of course2 a hero because
 he will do what he sees to be right1   
independently of personal feeling or    
personal advantage4 ,nor does his       
attempt fail from any overweening or    
blindness1 in himself4 ,had he known    
that the various papers thrown in his   
way1 were the concoctions of ,cassius1  
he would not have made the mistake of   
supposing that the ,romans longed for   
freedom1 and therefore would be ready to
 defend it4 ,as it was1 he attempted to 
liberate a people which did not feel its

 slavery4 ,he failed for others1 but not
 for himself2 for his truth was such    
that everybody was true to him4 ,unlike 
,jaques with his seven acts of the      
burlesque of human life1 ,brutus says at
 the last1--                            
8,countrymen1   ,my heart doth joy1 that
 yet1 in all my life1   ,i found no man 
but he was true to me40  ,of course all 
this is in ,plutarch4 ,but it is easy to
 see with what relish ,shakspere takes  
it up1 setting forth all the aids in    
himself and in others which ,brutus had 
to being a hero1 and thus making the    
representation as credible as possible4 
,we must heartily confess that no amount
 of genius alone will make a man a good 
man2 that genius only shows the right   
way--drives no man to walk in it4 ,but  
there is surely some moral scent in us  
to let us know whether a man only cares 
for good from an artistic point of view1
 or whether he admires and loves good4  
,this admiration and love cannot be     
prominently set forth by any dramatist  

true to his art2 but it must come out   
over the whole4 ,his predilections must 
show themselves in the scope of his     
artistic life1 in the things and        
subjects he chooses1 and the way in     
which he represents them4               
,notwithstanding ,uncle ,toby and       
,maria1 who will venture to say that    
,sterne was noble or virtuous1 when he  
looks over the whole that he has        
written8 ,but in ,shakspere there is no 
suspicion of a cloven foot4 ,everywhere 
he is on the side of virtue and of      
truth4 ,many small arguments1 with great
 cumulative force1 might be adduced to  
this effect4  ,for ourselves we cannot  
easily believe that the calmness of his 
art could be so unvarying except he     
exercised it with a good conscience2    
that he could have kept looking out upon
 the world around him with the          
untroubled regard necessary for seeing  
all things as they are1 except there had
 been peace in his house at home2 that  
he could have known all men as he did1  

and failed to know himself4 ,we can     
understand the co-existence of any      
degree of partial or excited genius with
 evil ways1 but we cannot understand the
 existence of such calm and universal   
genius1 wrought out in his works1 except
 in association with all that is noblest
 in human nature4 ,nor is it other than 
on the side of the argument for his     
rectitude that he never forces rectitude
 upon the attention of others4 ,the     
strong impression left upon our minds   
is1 that however ,shakspere may have    
strayed in the early portion of his life
 in ,london1 he was not only an upright 
and noble man for the main part1 but a  
repentant man1 and a man whose life was 
influenced by the truths of             
,christianity4  ,much is now said about 
a memorial to ,shakspere4 ,the best and 
only true memorial is no doubt that     
described in ,milton's poem on this very
 subject3 the living and ever-changing  
monument of human admiration1 expressed 
in the faces and forms of those absorbed

 in the reading of his works4 ,but if   
the external monument might be such as  
to foster the constant reproduction of  
the inward monument of love and         
admiration1 then1 indeed1 it might be   
well to raise one2 and with this object 
in view let us venture to propose one   
mode which we think would favour the    
attainment of it4  ,let a ,gothic hall  
of the fourteenth century be built2 such
 a hall as would be more in the         
imagination of ,shakspere than any of   
the architecture of his own time4 ,let  
all the copies that can be procured of  
every early edition of his works1 singly
 or collectively1 be stored in this     
hall4 ,let a copy of every other edition
 ever printed be procured and deposited4
 ,let every book or treatise that can be
 found1 good1 bad1 or indifferent1      
written about ,shakspere or any of his  
works1 be likewise collected for the    
,shakspere library4 ,let a special place
 be allotted to the shameless           
corruptions of his plays that have been 

produced as improvements upon them1 some
 of which1 to the disgrace of ,england1 
still partially occupy the stage instead
 of what ,shakspere wrote4 ,let one     
department contain every work of        
whatever sort that tends to direct      
elucidation of his meaning1 chiefly     
those of the dramatic writers who       
preceded him and closely followed him4  
,let the windows be filled with stained 
glass1 representing the popular sports  
of his own time and the times of his    
,english histories4 ,let a small museum 
be attached1 containing all procurable  
antiquities that are referred to in his 
plays1 along with first editions1 if    
possible1 of the best books that came   
out in his time1 and were probably read 
by him4 ,let the whole thus as much as  
possible represent his time4 ,let a     
marble statue in the midst do the best  
that ,english art can accomplish for the
 representation of the vanished man2 and
 let copies1 if not the originals1 of   
the several portraits be safely shrined 

for the occasional beholding of the     
multitude4 ,let the perpetuity of care  
necessary for this monument be secured  
by endowment2 and let it be for the use 
of the public1 by means of a            
reading-room fitted for the comfort of  
all who choose to avail themselves of   
these facilities for a true acquaintance
 with our greatest artist4 ,let there   
likewise be a simple and                
moderately-sized theatre attached1 not  
for regular1 but occasional use2 to be  
employed for the representation of      
,shakspere's plays only1 and allowed    
free of expense for amateur or other    
representations of them for charitable  
purposes4 ,but within a certain cycle of
 years--if1 indeed1 it would be too much
 to expect that out of the ,london      
play-goers a sufficient number would be 
found to justify the representation of  
all the plays of ,shakspere once in the 
season--let the whole of ,shakspere's   
plays be acted in the best manner       
possible to the managers for the time   

being4  ,the very existence of such a   
theatre would be a noble protest of the 
highest kind against the sort of play1  
chiefly translated and adapted from the 
,french1 which infests our boards1 the  
low tone of which1 even where it is not 
decidedly immoral1 does more harm than  
any amount of the rough1 honest         
plain-spokenness of ,shakspere1 as      
judged by our more fastidious1 if not   
always purer manners4 ,the              
representation of such plays forms the  
real ground of objection to             
theatre-going4 ,we believe that other   
objections1 which may be equally urged  
against large assemblies of any sort1   
are not really grounded upon such an    
amount of objectionable fact as good    
people often suppose4 ,at all events it 
is not against the drama itself1 but its
 concomitants1 its avoidable            
concomitants1 that such objections are1 
or ought to be1 felt and directed4 ,the 
dramatic impulse1 as well as all other  
impulses of our nature1 are from the    

,maker4  ,a monument like this would    
help to change a blind enthusiasm and a 
dilettante-talk into knowledge1         
reverence1 and study2 and surely this   
would be the true way to honour the     
memory of the man who appeals to        
posterity by no mighty deeds of worldly 
prowess1 but has left behind him food   
for heart1 brain1 and conscience1 on    
which the generations will feed till the
 end of time4 ,it would be the one true 
and natural mode of perpetuating his    
fame in kind2 helping him to do more of 
that for which he was born1 and because 
of which we humbly desire to do him     
honour1 as the years flow farther away  
from the time when1 at the age of       
fifty-two1 he left the world a richer   
legacy of the results of intellectual   
labour than any other labourer in       
literature has ever done4 ,it would be  
to raise a monument to his mind more    
than to his person4  ,but to honour     
,shakspere in the best way we must not  
gaze upon some grand memorial of his    

fame1 we must not talk largely of his   
wonderful doings1 we must not even      
behold the representation of his works  
on the stage1 invaluable aid as that is 
to the right understanding of what he   
has written2 but we must1 by close1     
silent1 patient study1 enter into an    
understanding with the spirit of the    
departed poet-sage1 and thus let his own
 words be the necromantic spell that    
raises the dead1 and brings us into     
communion with that man who knew what   
was in men more than any other mere man 
ever did4 ,well was it for ,shakspere   
that he was humble2 else on what a      
desolate pinnacle of companionless      
solitude must he have stood6 ,where was 
he to find his peers8 ,to most          
thoughtful minds it is a terrible fancy 
to suppose that there were no greater   
human being than themselves4 ,from the  
terror of such a truth ,shakspere's love
 for men preserved him4 ,he did not     
think about himself so much as he       
thought about them4 ,had he been a      

self-student alone1 or chiefly1 could he
 ever have written those dramas8 ,we    
close with the repetition of this truth3
 that the love of our kind is the one   
key to the knowledge of humanity and of 
ourselves4 ,and have we not sacred      
authority for concluding that he who    
loves his brother is the more able and  
the more likely to love ,him who made   
him and his brother also1 and then told 
them that love is the fulfilling of the 
law8     ,,the ,,art ,,of ,,shakspere1  
,,as ,,revealed ,,by ,,himself4         
,footnote3 #ahfc4     ,who taught you   
this8   ,i learn'd it out of women's    
faces4  ,winter's ,tale1 ,act ii4 scene 
#a4   ,one occasionally hears the       
remark1 that the commentators upon      
,shakspere find far more in ,shakspere  
than ,shakspere ever intended to        
express4 ,taking this assertion as it   
stands1 it may be freely granted1 not   
only of ,shakspere1 but of every writer 
of genius4 ,but if it be intended by it1
 that nothing can exist in any work of  

art beyond what the writer was conscious
 of while in the act of producing it1 so
 much of its scope is false4  ,no artist
 can have such a claim to the high title
 of creator1 as that he invents for     
himself the forms1 by means of which he 
produces his new result2 and all the    
forms of man and nature which he        
modifies and combines to make a new     
region in his world of art1 have their  
own original life and meaning4 ,the laws
 likewise of their various combinations 
are natural laws1 harmonious with each  
other4 ,while1 therefore1 the artist    
employs many or few of their original   
aspects for his immediate purpose1 he   
does not and cannot thereby deprive them
 of the many more which are essential to
 their vitality1 and the vitality       
likewise of his presentation of them1   
although they form only the background  
from which his peculiar use of them     
stands out4 ,the objects presented must 
therefore fall1 to the eye of the       
observant reader1 into many different   

combinations and harmonies of operation 
and result1 which are indubitably there1
 whether the writer saw them or not4    
,these latent combinations and relations
 will be numerous and true1 in          
proportion to the scope and the truth of
 the representation2 and the greater the
 number of meanings1 harmonious with    
each other1 which any work of art       
presents1 the greater claim it has to be
 considered a work of genius4 ,it must1 
therefore1 be granted1 and that         
joyfully1 that there may be meanings in 
,shakspere's writings which ,shakspere  
himself did not see1 and to which       
therefore his art1 as art1 does not     
point4  ,but the probability1           
notwithstanding1 must surely be allowed 
as well1 that1 in great artists1 the    
amount of conscious art will bear some  
proportion to the amount of unconscious 
truth3 the visible volcanic light will  
bear a true relation to the hidden fire 
of the globe2 so that it will not seem  
likely that1 in such a writer as        

,shakspere1 we should find many         
indications of present and operative    
art1 of which he was himself unaware4   
,some truths may be revealed through    
him1 which he himself knew only         
potentially2 but it is not likely that  
marks of work1 bearing upon the results 
of the play1 should be fortuitous1 or   
that the work thus indicated should be  
unconscious work4 ,a stroke of the      
mallet may be more effective than the   
sculptor had hoped2 but it was intended4
 ,in the drama it is easier to discover 
individual marks of the chisel1 than in 
the marble whence all signs of such are 
removed3 in the drama the lines         
themselves fall into the general finish1
 without necessary obliteration as      
lines3 ,still1 the reader cannot help   
being fearful1 lest1 not as regards     
truth only1 but as regards art as well1 
he be sometimes clothing the idol of his
 intellect with the weavings of his     
fancy4 ,my conviction is1 that it is the
 very consummateness of ,shakspere's    

art1 that exposes his work to the doubt 
that springs from loving anxiety for his
 honour2 the dramatist1 like the        
sculptor1 avoiding every avoidable hint 
of the process1 in order to render the  
result a vital whole4 ,but1 fortunately1
 we are not left to argue entirely from 
probabilities4 ,he has himself given us 
a peep into his studio--let me call it  
workshop1 as more comprehensive4  ,it is
 not1 of course1 in the shape of        
literary criticism1 that we should      
expect to meet such a revelation2 for to
 use art even consciously1 and to regard
 it as an object of contemplation1 or to
 theorize about it1 are two very        
different mental operations4 ,the       
productive and critical faculties are   
rarely found in equal combination2 and  
even where they are1 they cannot operate
 equally in regard to the same object4  
,there is a perfect satisfaction in     
producing1 which does not demand a      
re-presentation to the critical faculty4
 ,in other words1 the criticism which a 

great writer brings to bear upon his own
 work1 is from within1 regarding it upon
 the hidden side1 namely1 in relation to
 his own idea2 whereas criticism1       
commonly understood1 has reference to   
the side turned to the public gaze4     
,neither could we expect one so prolific
 as ,shakspere to find time for the     
criticism of the works of other men1    
except in such moments of relaxation as 
those in which the friends at the       
,mermaid ,tavern sat silent beneath the 
flow of his wisdom and humour1 or made  
the street ring with the overflow of    
their own enjoyment4  ,but if the artist
 proceed to speculate upon the nature or
 productions of another art than his    
own1 we may then expect the principles  
upon which he operates in his own1 to   
take outward and visible form--a form   
modified by the difference of the art to
 which he now applies them4 ,in one of  
,shakspere's poems1 we have the         
description of an imagined production of
 a sister-art--that of ,painting--a     

description so brilliant that the light 
reflected from the poet-picture         
illumines the art of the ,poet himself1 
revealing the principles which he held  
with regard to representative art       
generally1 and suggesting many thoughts 
with regard to detail and harmony1      
finish1 pregnancy1 and scope4 ,this     
description is found in 8,the ,rape of  
,lucrece40 ,apology will hardly be      
necessary for making a long quotation1  
seeing that1 besides the convenience it 
will afford of easy reference to the    
ground of my argument1 one of the       
greatest helps which even the artist can
 give to us1 is to isolate peculiar     
beauties1 and so compel us to perceive  
them4  ,lucrece has sent a messenger to 
beg the immediate presence of her       
husband4 ,awaiting his return1 and worn 
out with weeping1 she looks about for   
some variation of her misery4    #a4    
,at last she calls to mind where hangs a
 piece     ,of skilful painting1 made   
for ,priam's ,troy2   ,before the which 

is drawn the power of ,greece1     ,for 
,helen's rape the city to destroy1      
,threatening cloud-kissing ,ilion with  
annoy2   ,which the conceited painter   
drew so proud1   ,as heaven1 it seemed1 
to kiss the turrets1 bowed4    #b4    ,a
 thousand lamentable objects there1     
,in scorn of ,nature1 ,art gave lifeless
 life3   ,many a dry drop seemed a      
weeping tear1     ,shed for the         
slaughtered husband by the wife2        
,the red blood reeked1 to show the      
painter's strife4   ,and dying eyes     
gleamed forth their ashy lights1   ,like
 dying coals burnt out in tedious       
nights4    #c4    ,there might you see  
the labouring pioneer     ,begrimed with
 sweat1 and smeared all with dust2      
,and1 from the towers of ,troy there    
would appear     ,the very eyes of men  
through loopholes thrust1     ,gazing   
upon the ,greeks with little lust3      
,such sweet observance in this work was 
had1   ,that one might see those far-off
 eyes look sad4    #d4    ,in great     

commanders1 grace and majesty     ,you  
might behold1 triumphing in their faces2
   ,in youth1 quick bearing and         
dexterity2     ,and here and there the  
painter interlaces     ,pale cowards1   
marching on with trembling paces1       
,which heartless peasants did so well   
resemble1   ,that one would swear he saw
 them quake and tremble4    #e4    ,in  
,ajax and ,ulysses1 ,o what art     ,of 
physiognomy might one behold6   ,the    
face of either ciphered either's heart2 
,their face their manners most expressly
 told3     ,in ,ajax' eyes blunt rage   
and rigour rolled2   ,but the mild      
glance that sly ,ulysses lent   ,showed 
deep regard1 and smiling government4    
#f4    ,there pleading might you see    
grave ,nestor stand1     ,as #8twere    
encouraging the ,greeks to fight2       
,making such sober action with his hand1
     ,that it beguiled attention1       
charmed the sight2     ,in speech1 it   
seemed his beard1 all silver-white1     
,wagged up and down1 and from his lips  

did fly   ,thin winding breath1 which   
purled up to the sky4    #g4    ,about  
him were a press of gaping faces1       
,which seemed to swallow up his sound   
advice2   ,all jointly listening1 but   
with several graces1     ,as if some    
mermaid did their ears entice2     ,some
 high1 some low1 the painter was so     
nice4   ,the scalps of many1 almost hid 
behind1   ,to jump up higher seemed1 to 
mock the mind4    #h4    ,here one man's
 hand leaned on another's head1     ,his
 nose being shadowed by his neighbour's 
ear2   ,here one1 being thronged1 bears 
back1 all bollen and red2     ,another1 
smothered1 seems to pelt and swear2     
,and in their rage such signs of rage   
they bear1   ,as1 but for loss of       
,nestor's golden words1   ,it seemed    
they would debate with angry swords4    
#i4    ,for much imaginary work was     
there2     ,conceit deceitful1 so       
compact1 so kind1   ,that for ,achilles'
 image stood his spear1     ,griped in  
an armed hand2 himself behind     ,was  

left unseen1 save to the eye of mind3   
,a hand1 a foot1 a face1 a leg1 a head1 
,stood for the whole to be imagined4    
#aj4    ,and1 from the walls of         
strong-besieged ,troy1     ,when their  
brave hope1 bold ,hector1 marched to    
field1   ,stood many ,trojan mothers1   
sharing joy     ,to see their youthful  
sons bright weapons wield1     ,and to  
their hope they such odd action yield2  
,that through their light joy seemed to 
appear1   ,like bright things stained1 a
 kind of heavy fear4    #aa4    ,and    
from the strond of ,dardan1 where they  
fought1     ,to ,simois' reedy banks1   
the red blood ran2   ,whose waves to    
imitate the battle sought1     ,with    
swelling ridges2 and their ranks began  
,to break upon the galled shore1 and    
then   ,retire again1 till1 meeting     
greater ranks1   ,they join1 and shoot  
their foam at ,simois' banks4  ,the     
oftener ,i read these verses1 amongst   
the very earliest compositions of       
,shakspere1 ,i am the more impressed    

with the carefulness with which he      
represents the work of the              
picture--8shows the strife of the       
painter40  ,the most natural thought to 
follow in sequence is3 ,how like his own
 art6  ,the scope and variety of the    
whole picture1 in which mass is effected
 by the accumulation of individuality2  
in which1 on the one hand1 ,troy stands 
as the impersonation of the aim and     
object of the whole2 and on the other1  
the ,simois flows in foaming rivalry of 
the strife of men1--the pictorial form  
of that sympathy of nature with human   
effort and passion1 which he so often   
introduces in his plays1--is like       
nothing else so much as one of the works
 of his own art4 ,but to take a portion 
as a more condensed representation of   
his art in combining all varieties into 
one harmonious whole3 his genius is like
 the oratory of ,nestor as described by 
its effects in the seventh and eighth   
stanzas4 ,every variety of attitude and 
countenance and action is harmonized by 

the influence which is at once the      
occasion of debate1 and the charm which 
restrains by the fear of its own loss3  
the eloquence and the listening form the
 one bond of the unruly mass4 ,so the   
dramatic genius that harmonizes his     
play1 is visible only in its effects2 so
 ethereal in its own essence that it    
refuses to be submitted to the analysis 
of the ruder intellect1 it is like the  
words of ,nestor1 for which in the      
picture there stands but 8thin winding  
breath which purled up to the sky40     
,take1 for an instance of this1 the     
reconciling power by which1 in the      
mysterious midnight of the summer-wood1 
he brings together in one harmony the   
graceful passions of childish elves1 and
 the fierce passions of men and women1  
with the ludicrous reflection of those  
passions in the little convex mirror of 
the artisan's drama2 while the          
mischievous ,puck revels in things that 
fall out preposterously1 and the        
,elf-,queen is in love with ass-headed  

,bottom1 from the hollows of whose long 
hairy ears--strange                     
bouquet-holders--bloom and breathe the  
musk-roses1 the characteristic          
odour-founts of the play2 and the       
philosophy of the unbelieving ,theseus1 
with the candour of ,hippolyta1 lifts   
the whole into relation with the        
realities of human life4 ,or take1 as   
another instance1 the pretended madman  
,edgar1 the court-fool1 and the rugged  
old king going grandly mad1 sheltered in
 one hut1 and lapped in the roar of a   
thunderstorm4  ,my object1 then1 in     
respect to this poem1 is to produce1    
from many instances1 a few examples of  
the metamorphosis of such excellences as
 he describes in the picture1 into the  
corresponding forms of the drama2 in the
 hope that it will not then be necessary
 to urge the probability that the       
presence of those artistic virtues in   
his own practice1 upon which he         
expatiates in his representation of     
another man's art1 were accompanied by  

the corresponding consciousness--that1  
namely1 of the artist as differing from 
that of the critic1 its objects being   
regarded from the concave side of the   
hammered relief4 ,if this probability be
 granted1 ,i would1 from it1 advance to 
a higher and far more important         
conclusion--how unlikely it is that if  
the writer was conscious of such        
fitnesses1 he should be unconscious of  
those grand embodiments of truth1 which 
are indubitably present in his plays1   
whether he knew it or not4 ,this portion
 of my argument will be strengthened by 
an instance to show that ,shakspere was 
himself quite at home in the            
contemplation of such truths4  ,let me  
adduce1 then1 some of those             
corresponding embodiments in words      
instead of in forms2 in which colours   
yield to tones1 lines to phrases4 ,i    
will begin with the lowest kind1 in     
which the art has to do with matters so 
small1 that it is difficult to believe  
that unconscious art could have any     

relation to them4 ,they can hardly have 
proceeded directly from the great       
inspiration of the whole4 ,their very   
minuteness is an argument for their     
presence to the poet's consciousness2   
while belonging1 as they do1 only to the
 construction of the play1 no such      
independent existence can be accorded to
 them1 as to truths1 which1 being in    
themselves realities1 are there1 whether
 ,shakspere saw them or not4 ,if he did 
not intend them1 the most that can be   
said for them is1 that such is the      
naturalness of ,shakspere's             
representations1 that there is room in  
his plays1 as in life1 for those        
wonderful coincidences which are        
reducible to no law4  ,perhaps every one
 of the examples ,i adduce will be found
 open to dispute4 ,this is a kind in    
which direct proof can have no share2   
nor should ,i have dared thus to combine
 them in argument1 but for the ninth    
stanza of those quoted above1 to which  
,i beg my readers to revert4 ,its       

imaginary work means--work hinted at1   
and then left to the imagination of the 
reader4 ,of course1 in dramatic         
representation1 such work must exist on 
a great scale2 but the minute           
particularization of the 8conceit       
deceitful0 in the rest of the stanza1   
will surely justify us in thinking it   
possible that ,shakspere intended many1 
if not all1 of the little fitnesses     
which a careful reader discovers in his 
plays4 ,that such are not oftener       
discovered comes from this3 that1 like  
life itself1 he so blends into vital    
beauty1 that there are no salient       
points4 ,to use a homely simile3 he is  
not like the barn-door fowl1 that always
 runs out cackling when she has laid an 
egg2 and often when she has not4 ,in the
 tone of an ordinary drama1 you may know
 when something is coming2 and the tone 
itself declares--,i have done it4 ,but  
,shakspere will not spoil his art to    
show his art4 ,it is there1 and does its
 part3 that is enough4 ,if you can      

discover it1 good and well2 if not1 pass
 on1 and take what you can find4 ,he can
 afford not to be fathomed for every    
little pearl that lies at the bottom of 
his ocean4 ,if ,i succeed in showing    
that such art may exist where it is not 
readily discovered1 this may give some  
additional probability to its existence 
in places where it is harder to isolate 
and define4  ,to produce a few          
instances1 then3  ,in 8,much ,ado about 
,nothing10 seeing the very nature of the
 play is expressed in its name1 is it   
not likely that ,shakspere named the two
 constables1 ,dogberry 7a poisonous     
berry7 and ,verjuice 7the juice of      
crab-apples72 those names having        
absolutely nothing to do with the stupid
 innocuousness of their characters1 and 
so corresponding to their way of turning
 things upside down1 and saying the very
 opposite of what they mean8  ,in the   
same play we find ,margaret objecting to
 her mistress's wearing a certain rebato
 7a large plaited ruff71 on the morning 

of her wedding3 may not this be intended
 to relate to the fact that ,margaret   
had dressed in her mistress's clothes   
the night before8 ,she might have       
rumpled or soiled it1 and so feared     
discovery4  ,in 8,king ,henry ,,iv410   
,part ,i41 we find1 in the last scene1  
that the ,prince kills ,hotspur4 ,this  
is not recorded in history3 the         
conqueror of ,percy is unknown4 ,had it 
been a fact1 history would certainly    
have recorded it2 and the silence of    
history in regard to a deed of such     
mark1 is equivalent to its              
contradiction4 ,but ,shakspere requires1
 for his play's sake1 to identify the   
slayer of ,hotspur with his rival the   
,prince4 ,yet ,shakspere will not       
contradict history1 even in its silence4
 ,what is he to do8 ,he will account for
 history not knowing the                
fact4--,falstaff claiming the honour1   
the ,prince says to him3    8,for my    
part1 if a lie may do thee grace1       
,i'll gild it with the happiest terms ,i

 have20  revealing thus the magnificence
 of his own character1 in his readiness1
 for the sake of his friend1 to part    
with his chief renown4 ,but the         
,historic ,muse could not believe that  
fat ,jack ,falstaff had killed ,hotspur1
 and therefore she would not record the 
claim4  ,in the second part of the same 
play1 act i4 scene #b1 we find ,falstaff
 toweringly indignant with ,mr4         
,dombledon1 the silk mercer1 that he    
will stand upon security with a         
gentleman for a short cloak and slops of
 satin4 ,in the first scene of the      
second act1 the hostess mentions that   
,sir ,john is going to dine with ,master
 ,smooth1 the silkman4 ,foiled with ,mr4
 ,dombledon1 he has already made himself
 so agreeable to ,master ,smooth1 that  
he is 8indited to dinner0 with him4     
,this is1 by the bye1 as to the action  
of the play2 but as to the character of 
,sir ,john1 is it not    8,conceit      
deceitful1 so compact1 so               
kind0--kinned--natural8  ,the conceit   

deceitful in the painting1 is the       
imagination that means more than its    
says4 ,so the words of the speakers in  
the play1 stand for more than the       
speakers mean4 ,they are ,shakspere's in
 their relation to his whole4 ,to       
,achilles1 his spear is but his spear3  
to the painter and his company1 the     
spear of ,achilles stands for ,achilles 
himself4  ,coleridge remarks upon ,james
 ,gurney1 in 8,king ,john30 8,how       
individual and comical he is with the   
four words allowed to his dramatic      
life60  ,these words are those with     
which he answers the ,bastard's request 
to leave the room4 ,he has been         
lingering with all the inquisitiveness  
and privilege of an old servant2 when   
,faulconbridge says3 8,james ,gurney1   
wilt thou give us leave a while80 with  
strained politeness4 ,with marked       
condescension to the request of the     
second son1 whom he has known and served
 from infancy1 ,james ,gurney replies3  
8,good leave1 good ,philip20  giving    

occasion to ,faulconbridge to show his  
ambition1 and scorn of his present      
standing1 in the contempt with which he 
treats even the ,christian name he is so
 soon to exchange with his surname for  
,sir ,richard and ,plantagenet2 ,philip 
being the name for a sparrow in those   
days1 when ladies made pets of them4    
,surely in these words of the           
serving-man1 we have an outcome of the  
same art by which    8,a hand1 a foot1 a
 face1 a leg1 a head1   ,stood for the  
whole to be imagined40  ,in the         
8,winter's ,tale10 act iv4 scene #c1    
,perdita1 dressed with unwonted gaiety  
at the festival of the sheep-shearing1  
is astonished at finding herself talking
 in full strains of poetic verse4 ,she  
says1 half-ashamed3    8,methinks ,i    
play as ,i have seen them do   ,in      
,whitsun pastorals3 sure1 this robe of  
mine   ,does change my disposition60    
,she does not mean this seriously4 ,but 
the robe has more to do with it than she
 thinks4 ,her passion for ,florizel is  

the warmth that sets the springs of her 
thoughts free1 and they flow with the   
grace belonging to a princess-nature2   
but it is the robe that opens the door  
of her speech1 and1 by elevating her    
consciousness of herself1 betrays her   
into what is only natural to her1 but   
seems to her1 on reflection1            
inconsistent with her low birth and poor
 education4 ,this instance1 however1    
involves far higher elements than any of
 the examples ,i have given before1 and 
naturally leads to a much more important
 class of illustrations4  ,in           
8,macbeth10 act ii4 scene #d1 why is the
 old man1 who has nothing to do with the
 conduct of the play1                   
introduced8--,that1 in conversation with
 ,rosse1 he may1 as an old man1 bear    
testimony to the exceptionally terrific 
nature of that storm1 which1 we         
find--from the words of ,banquo3        
8,there's husbandry in heaven3   ,their 
candles are all out10--  had begun to   
gather1 before supper was over in the   

castle4 ,this storm is the sympathetic  
horror of ,nature at the breaking open  
of the ,lord's anointed temple--horror  
in which the animal creation partakes1  
for the horses of ,duncan1 8the minions 
of their race10 and therefore the most  
sensitive of their sensitive race1 tear 
each other to pieces in the wildness of 
their horror4 ,consider along with this 
a foregoing portion of the second scene 
in the same act4 ,macbeth1 having joined
 his wife after the murder1 says3       
8,who lies i' the second chamber8       
8,lady ,m4        ,donalbain4           
99       99       99       99       99  
8,there are two lodged together40       
,these two1 ,macbeth says1 woke each    
other--the one laughing1 the other      
crying murder4 ,then they said their    
prayers and went to sleep again4--,i    
used to think that the natural companion
 of ,donalbain would be ,malcolm1 his   
brother2 and that the two brothers woke 
in horror from the proximity of their   
father's murderer who was just passing  

the door4 ,a friend objected to this1   
that1 had they been together1 ,malcolm1 
being the elder1 would have been        
mentioned rather than ,donalbain4       
,accept this objection1 and we find a   
yet more delicate significance3 the     
presence operated differently on the    
two1 one bursting out in a laugh1 the   
other crying murder2 but both were in   
terror when they awoke1 and dared not   
sleep till they had said their prayers4 
,his sons1 his horses1 the elements     
themselves1 are shaken by one           
unconscious sympathy with the murdered  
king4  ,associate with this the end of  
the third scene of the fourth act of    
8,julius ,caesar20 where we find that   
the attendants of ,brutus all cry out in
 their sleep1 as the ghost of ,caesar   
leaves their master's tent4 ,this outcry
 is not given in ,plutarch4  ,to return 
to 8,macbeth30 ,why is the doctor of    
medicine introduced in the scene at the 
,english court8 ,he has nothing to do   
with the progress of the play itself1   

any more than the old man already       
alluded to4--,he is introduced for a    
precisely similar reason4--,as a doctor1
 he is the best testimony that could be 
adduced to the fact1 that the ,english  
,king ,edward the ,confessor1 is a      
fountain of health to his people1 gifted
 for his goodness with the sacred       
privilege of curing ,the ,king's ,evil1 
by the touch of his holy hands4 ,the    
,english ,king himself is thus          
introduced1 for the sake of contrast    
with the ,scotch ,king1 who is a raging 
bear amongst his subjects4  ,in the     
8,winter's ,tale10 to which he gives the
 name because of the altogether         
extraordinary character of the          
occurrences 7referring to it in the play
 itself1 in the words3 8a sad tale's    
best for winter3 ,i have one of sprites 
and goblins07 ,antigonus has a          
remarkable dream or vision1 in which    
,hermione appears to him1 and commands  
the exposure of her child in a place to 
all appearance the most unsuitable and  

dangerous4 ,convinced of the reality of 
the vision1 ,antigonus obeys2 and the   
whole marvellous result depends upon    
this obedience4 ,therefore the vision   
must be intended for a genuine one4 ,but
 how could it be such1 if ,hermione was 
not dead1 as1 from her appearance to    
him1 ,antigonus firmly believed she was8
 ,i should feel this to be an objection 
to the art of the play1 but for the     
following answer3--,at the time she     
appeared to him1 she was still lying in 
that deathlike swoon1 into which she    
fell when the news of the loss of her   
son reached her as she stood before the 
judgment-seat of her husband1 at a time 
when she ought not to have been out of  
her chamber4  ,note likewise1 in the    
first scene of the second act of the    
same play1 the changefulness of         
,hermione's mood with regard to her boy1
 as indicative of her condition at the  
time4 ,if we do not regard this fact1 we
 shall think the words introduced only  
for the sake of filling up the business 

of the play4  ,in 8,twelfth ,night10    
both ladies make the first advances in  
love4 ,is it not worthy of notice that  
one of them has lost her brother1 and   
that the other believes she has lost    
hers8 ,in this respect1 they may be     
placed with ,phoebe1 in 8,as ,you ,like 
,it10 who1 having suddenly lost her love
 by the discovery that its object was a 
woman1 immediately and heartily accepts 
the devotion of her rejected lover1     
,silvius4 ,along with these may be      
classed ,romeo1 who1 rejected and1 as he
 believes1 inconsolable1 falls in love  
with ,juliet the moment he sees her4    
,that his love for ,rosaline1 however1  
was but a kind of calf-love compared    
with his love for ,juliet1 may be found 
indicated in the differing tones of his 
speech under the differing conditions4  
,compare what he says in his            
conversation with ,benvolio1 in the     
first scene of the first act1 with any  
of his many speeches afterwards1 and1   
while conceit will be found prominent   

enough in both1 the one will be found to
 be ruled by the fancy1 the other by the
 imagination4  ,in this same play1 there
 is another similar point which ,i      
should like to notice4 ,in ,arthur      
,brook's story1 from which ,shakspere   
took his1 there is no mention of any    
communication from ,lady ,capulet to    
,juliet of their intention of marrying  
her to ,count ,paris4 ,why does         
,shakspere insert this8--to explain her 
falling in love with ,romeo so suddenly4
 ,her mother has set her mind moving in 
that direction4 ,she has never seen     
,paris4 ,she is looking about her1      
wondering which may be he1 and whether  
she shall be able to like him1 when she 
meets the love-filled eyes of ,romeo    
fixed upon her1 and is at once overcome4
 ,what a significant speech is that     
given to ,paulina in the 8,winter's     
,tale10 act v4 scene #a3 8,how8 ,not    
women80 ,paulina is a thorough partisan1
 siding with women against men1 and     
strengthened in this by the treatment   

her mistress has received from her      
husband4 ,one has just said to her1     
that1 if ,perdita would begin a sect1   
she might 8make proselytes of who she   
bid but follow40 8,how8 ,not women80    
,paulina rejoins4 ,having received      
assurance that 8women will love her10   
she has no more to say4  ,i had the     
following explanation of a line in      
8,twelfth ,night0 from a stranger ,i met
 in an old book-shop3--,malvolio1 having
 built his castle in the air1 proceeds  
to inhabit it4 ,describing his own      
behaviour in a supposed case1 he says   
7act ii4 scene #e73 8,i frown the while2
 and perchance1 wind up my watch1 or    
play with my some rich jewel0--,a dash  
ought to come after my4 ,malvolio was   
about to say chain2 but remembering that
 his chain was the badge of his office  
of steward1 and therefore of his        
servitude1 he alters the word to 8some  
rich jewel0  uttered with pretended     
carelessness4  ,in 8,hamlet10 act iii4  
scene #a1 did not ,shakspere intend the 

passionate soliloquy of ,ophelia--a     
soliloquy which no maiden knowing that  
she was overheard would have            
uttered1--coupled with the words of her 
father3                8,how now1       
,ophelia8   ,you need not tell us what  
lord ,hamlet said1   ,we heard it       
all20--  to indicate that1 weak as      
,ophelia was1 she was not false enough  
to be accomplice in any plot for        
betraying ,hamlet to her father and the 
,king8 ,they had remained behind the    
arras1 and had not gone out as she must 
have supposed4  ,next1 let me request my
 reader to refer once more to the poem2 
and having considered the physiognomy of
 ,ajax and ,ulysses1 as described in the
 fifth stanza1 to turn then to the play 
of 8,troilus and ,cressida10  and there 
contemplate that description as         
metamorphosed into the higher form of   
revelation in speech4 ,then1 if he will 
associate the general principles in that
 stanza with the third1 especially the  
last two lines1 ,i will apply this to   

the character of ,lady ,macbeth4  ,of   
course1 ,shakspere does not mean that   
one regarding that portion of the       
picture alone1 could see the eyes       
looking sad2 but that the sweet         
observance of the whole so roused the   
imagination that it supplied what       
distance had concealed1 keeping the     
far-off likewise in sweet observance    
with the whole3 the rest pointed that   
way4--,in a manner something like this  
are we conducted to a right             
understanding of the character of ,lady 
,macbeth4 ,first put together these her 
utterances3    8,you do unbend your     
noble strength1 to think     ,so        
brainsickly of things40                 
8,get some water1   ,and wash this      
filthy witness from your hands40        
8,the sleeping and the dead   ,are but  
as pictures40    8,a little water clears
 us of this deed40                      
8,when all's done1   ,you look but on a 
stool40    8,you lack the season of all 
natures1 sleep40--  ,had these passages 

stood in the play unmodified by others1 
we might have judged from them that     
,shakspere intended to represent ,lady  
,macbeth as an utter materialist1       
believing in nothing beyond the         
immediate communications of the senses4 
,but when we find them associated with  
such passages as these--                
8,memory1 the warder of the brain1      
,shall be a fume1 and the receipt of    
reason   ,a limbeck only20              
8,had he not resembled   ,my father as  
he slept1 ,i had done't2                
8,these deeds must not be thought       
,after these ways2 so1 it will make us  
mad20--  then we find that our former   
theory will not do1 for here are deeper 
and broader foundations to build upon4  
,we discover that ,lady ,macbeth was an 
unbeliever morally1 and so found it     
necessary to keep down all imagination1 
which is the upheaving of that inward   
world whose very being she would have   
annihilated4 ,yet out of this world     
arose at last the phantom of her slain  

self1 and possessing her sleeping frame1
 sent it out to wander in the night1 and
 rub its distressed and blood-stained   
hands in vain4 ,for1 as in this same    
8,rape of ,lucrece10               8the 
soul's fair temple is defaced2   ,to    
whose weak ruins muster troops of cares1
   ,to ask the spotted princess how she 
fares40  ,but when so many lines of     
delineation meet1 and run into1 and     
correct one another1 assuming such a    
natural and vital form1 that there is no
 making of a point anywhere2 and the    
woman is shown after no theory1 but     
according to the natural laws of human  
declension1 we feel that the only way to
 account for the perfection of the      
representation is to say that1 given a  
shadow1 ,shakspere had the power to     
place himself so1 that that shadow      
became his own--was the correct         
representation as shadow1 of his form   
coming between it and the sunlight4 ,and
 this is the highest dramatic gift that 
a man can possess4 ,but we feel at the  

same time1 that this is1 in the main1   
not so much art as inspiration4 ,there  
would be1 in all probability1 a great   
mingling of conscious art with the      
inspiration2 but the lines of the former
 being lost in the general glow of the  
latter1 we may be left where we were as 
to any certainty about the artistic     
consciousness of ,shakspere4 ,i will now
 therefore attempt to give a few plainer
 instances of such sweet observance in  
his own work as he would have admired in
 a painting4  ,first1 then1 ,i would    
request my reader to think how          
comparatively seldom ,shakspere uses    
poetry in his plays4 ,the whole play is 
a poem in the highest sense2 but truth  
forbids him to make it the rule for his 
characters to speak poetically4 ,their  
speech is poetic in relation to the     
whole and the end1 not in relation to   
the speaker1 or in the immediate        
utterance4 ,and even although their     
speech is immediately poetic1 in this   
sense1 that every character is          

idealized2 yet it is idealized after its
 kind2 and poetry certainly would not be
 the ideal speech of most of the        
characters4 ,this granted1 let us look  
at the exceptions3 we shall find that   
such passages not only glow with poetic 
loveliness and fervour1 but are very    
jewels of sweet observance1 whose       
setting allows them their force as      
lawful1 and their prominence as natural4
 ,i will mention a few of such4  ,in    
8,julius ,caesar10 act i4 scene #c1 we  
are inclined to think the way ,casca    
speaks1 quite inconsistent with the     
8sour fashion0 which ,cassius very      
justly attributes to him2 till we       
remember that he is speaking in the     
midst of an almost supernatural         
thunder-storm3 the hidden electricity of
 the man's nature comes out in poetic   
forms and words1 in response to the wild
 outburst of the overcharged heavens and
 earth4  ,shakspere invariably makes the
 dying speak poetically1 and generally  
prophetically1 recognizing the identity 

of the poetic and prophetic moods1 in   
their highest development1 and the      
justice that gives them the same name4  
,even ,sir ,john1 poor ruined gentleman1
 babbles of green fields4 ,every one    
knows that the passage is disputed3 ,i  
believe that if this be not the         
restoration of the original reading1    
,shakspere himself would justify it1 and
 wish that he had so written it4  ,romeo
 and ,juliet talk poetry as a matter of 
course4  ,in 8,king ,john10 act v4      
scenes #d and #e1 see how differently   
the dying ,melun and the living and     
victorious ,lewis regard the same       
sunset3    ,melun4    4 4 4 4 4 this    
night1 whose black contagious breath    
,already smokes about the burning crest 
,of the old1 feeble1 and day-wearied    
sun4    ,lewis4    ,the sun in heaven1  
methought1 was loath to set2   ,but     
stayed1 and made the western welkin     
blush1   ,when the ,english measured    
backward their own ground4  ,the        
exquisite duet between ,lorenzo and     

,jessica1 in the opening of the fifth   
act of 8,the ,merchant of ,venice10     
finds for its subject the circumstances 
that produce the mood--the lovely night 
and the crescent moon--which first make 
them talk poetry1 then call for music1  
and next speculate upon its nature4     
,let us turn now to some instances of   
sweet observance in other kinds4  ,there
 is observance1 more true than sweet1 in
 the character of ,jacques1 in 8,as ,you
 ,like ,it30 the fault-finder in age was
 the fault-doer in youth and manhood4   
,jacques patronizing the fool1 is one of
 the rarest shows of self-ignorance4    
,in the same play1 when ,rosalind hears 
that ,orlando is in the wood1 she cries 
out1 8,alas the day6 what shall ,i do   
with my doublet and hose80  ,and when   
,orlando asks her1 8,where dwell you1   
pretty youth80 she answers1 tripping in 
her rle1 8,here in the skirts of the    
forest1 like fringe upon a petticoat40  
,in the second part of 8,king ,henry    
,,iv410 act iv4 scene #c1 ,falstaff says

 of ,prince ,john3 8,good faith1 this   
same young sober-blooded boy doth not   
love me2 nor a man cannot make him      
laugh2--but that's no marvel3 he drinks 
no wine40 ,this is the ,prince ,john who
 betrays the insurgents afterwards by   
the falsest of quibbles1 and gains his  
revenge through their good faith4  ,in  
8,king ,henry ,,iv10 act i4 scene #b1   
,poins does not say ,falstaff is a      
coward like the other two2 but          
only--8,if he fight longer than he sees 
reason1 ,i'll forswear arms40 ,associate
 this with ,falstaff's soliloquy about  
honour in the same play1 act v4 scene   
#a1 and the true character of his       
courage or cowardice--for it may bear   
either name--comes out4  ,is there not  
conscious art in representing the       
hospitable face of the castle of        
,macbeth1 bearing on it a homely welcome
 in the multitude of the nests of the   
temple-haunting martlet 7,psalm lxxxiv4 
#c71 just as ,lady ,macbeth1 the        
fiend-soul of the house1 steps from the 

door1 like the speech of the building1  
with her falsely smiled welcome8 ,is    
there not observance in it8  ,but the   
production of such instances might be   
endless1 as the work of ,shakspere is   
infinite4 ,i confine myself to two more1
 taken from 8,the ,merchant of ,venice40
  ,shakspere requires a character       
capable of the magnificent devotion of  
friendship which the old story          
attributes to ,antonio4 ,he therefore   
introduces us to a man sober even to    
sadness1 thoughtful even to melancholy4 
,the first words of the play unveil this
 characteristic4 ,he holds 8the world   
but as the world10--    8,a stage where 
every man must play a part1   ,and mine 
a sad one40  ,the cause of this sadness 
we are left to conjecture4 ,antonio     
himself professes not to know4 ,but such
 a disposition1 even if it be not       
occasioned by any definite event or     
object1 will generally associate itself 
with one2 and when ,antonio is accused  
of being in love1 he repels the         

accusation with only a sad 8,fie6 fie60 
,this1 and his whole character1 seem to 
me to point to an old but ever cherished
 grief4  ,into the original story upon  
which this play is founded1 ,shakspere  
has1 among other variations1 introduced 
the story of ,jessica and ,lorenzo1     
apparently altogether of his own        
invention4 ,what was his object in doing
 so8 ,surely there were characters and  
interests enough already6--,it seems to 
me that ,shakspere doubted whether the  
,jew would have actually proceeded to   
carry out his fell design against       
,antonio1 upon the original ground of   
his hatred1 without the further         
incitement to revenge afforded by       
another passion1 second only to his love
 of gold--his affection for his         
daughter2 for in the ,jew having        
reference to his own property1 it had   
risen to a passion4 ,shakspere therefore
 invents her1 that he may send a dog of 
a ,christian to steal her1 and1 yet     
worse1 to tempt her to steal her        

father's stones and ducats4 ,i suspect  
,shakspere sends the old villain off the
 stage at the last with more of the pity
 of the audience than any of the other  
dramatists of the time would have       
ventured to rouse1 had they been capable
 of doing so4 ,i suspect he is the only 
human ,jew of the ,english drama up to  
that time4  ,i have now arrived at the  
last and most important stage of my     
argument4 ,it is this3 ,if ,shakspere   
was so well aware of the artistic       
relations of the parts of his drama1 is 
it likely that the grand meanings       
involved in the whole were unperceived  
by him1 and conveyed to us without any  
intention on his part--had their origin 
only in the fact that he dealt with     
human nature so truly1 that his         
representations must involve whatever   
lessons human life itself involves8  ,is
 there no intention1 for instance1 in   
placing ,prospero1 who forsook the      
duties of his dukedom for the study of  
magic1 in a desert island1 with just    

three subjects2 one1 a monster below    
humanity2 the second1 a creature        
etherealized beyond it2 and the third a 
complete embodiment of human perfection8
 ,is it not that he may learn how to    
rule1 and1 having learned1 return1 by   
the aid of his magic wisely directed1 to
 the home and duties from which         
exclusive devotion to that magic had    
driven him8  ,in 8,julius ,caesar10 the 
death of ,brutus1 while following as the
 consequence of his murder of ,caesar1  
is yet as much distinguished in         
character from that death1 as the       
character of ,brutus is different from  
that of ,caesar4 ,caesar's last words   
were ,et tu ,brute8 ,brutus1 when       
resolved to lay violent hands on        
himself1 takes leave of his friends with
 these words3                           
8,countrymen1   ,my heart doth joy1 that
 yet1 in all my life1   ,i found no man1
 but he was true to me40  ,here         
,shakspere did not invent4 ,he found    
both speeches in ,plutarch4 ,but how    

unerring his choice6  ,is the final     
catastrophe in 8,hamlet0 such1 because  
,shakspere could do no better8--,it is3 
he could do no better than the best4    
,where but in the regions beyond could  
such questionings as ,hamlet's be put to
 rest8 ,it would have been a fine thing 
indeed for the most nobly perplexed of  
thinkers to be left--his love in the    
grave2 the memory of his father a       
torment1 of his mother a blot2 with     
innocent blood on his innocent hands1   
and but half understood by his best     
friend--to ascend in desolate dreariness
 the contemptible height of the degraded
 throne1 and shine the first in a       
drunken court6  ,before bringing forward
 my last instance1 ,i will direct the   
attention of my readers to a passage1 in
 another play1 in which the lesson of   
the play ,i am about to speak of1 is    
directly taught3 the first speech in the
 second act of 8,as ,you ,like ,it10    
might be made a text for the exposition 
of the whole play of 8,king ,lear40     

,the banished duke is seeking to bring  
his courtiers to regard their exile as a
 part of their moral training4 ,i am    
aware that ,i point the passage         
differently1 while ,i revert to the old 
text4                       8,are not   
these woods   ,more free from peril than
 the envious court8   ,here feel we not 
the penalty of ,adam--   ,the season's  
difference1 as the icy fang1   ,and     
churlish chiding of the winter's wind8  
,which1 when it bites and blows upon my 
body1   ,even till ,i shrink with cold1 
,i smile and say--   ,this is no        
flattery2 these are counsellors   ,that 
feelingly persuade me what ,i am4       
,sweet are the uses of adversity40  ,the
 line ,here feel we not the penalty of  
,adam8 has given rise to much           
perplexity4 ,the expounders of          
,shakspere do not believe he can mean   
that the uses of adversity are really   
sweet4 ,but the duke sees that the      
penalty of ,adam is what makes the woods
 more free from peril than the envious  

court2 that this penalty is in fact the 
best blessing1 for it feelingly         
persuades man what he is2 and to know   
what we are1 to have no false judgments 
of ourselves1 he considers so sweet1    
that to be thus taught1 the churlish    
chiding of the winter's wind is well    
endured4  ,now let us turn to ,lear4 ,we
 find in him an old man with a large    
heart1 hungry for love1 and yet not     
knowing what love is2 an old man as     
ignorant as a child in all matters of   
high import2 with a temper so unsubdued1
 and therefore so unkingly1 that he     
storms because his dinner is not ready  
by the clock of his hunger2 a child1 in 
short1 in everything but his grey hairs 
and wrinkled face1 but his failing1     
instead of growing1 strength4 ,if a life
 end so1 let the success of that life be
 otherwise what it may1 it is a wretched
 and unworthy end4 ,but let ,lear be    
blown by the winds and beaten by the    
rains of heaven1 till he pities 8poor   
naked wretches20 till he feels that he  

has 8ta'en too little care of0 such2    
till pomp no longer conceals from him   
what 8a poor1 bare1 forked animal0 he   
is2 and the old king has risen higher in
 the real social scale--the scale of    
that country to which he is bound--far  
higher than he stood while he still held
 his kingdom undivided to his thankless 
daughters4 ,then let him learn at last  
that 8love is the only good in the      
world20 let him find his ,cordelia1 and 
plot with her how they will in their    
dungeon singing like birds i' the cage1 
and1 dwelling in the secret place of    
peace1 look abroad on the world like    
,god's spies2 and then let the generous 
great old heart swell till it breaks at 
last--not with rage and hate and        
vengeance1 but with love2 and all is    
well3 it is time the man should go to   
overtake his daughter2 henceforth to    
dwell with her in the home of the true1 
the eternal1 the unchangeable4 ,all his 
suffering came from his own fault2 but  
from the suffering has sprung another   

crop1 not of evil but of good2 the seeds
 of which had lain unfruitful in the    
soil1 but were brought within the       
blessed influences of the air of heaven 
by the sharp tortures of the ploughshare
 of ill4     ,,the ,,elder ,,hamlet4    
,footnote3 #ahge            #8,tis      
bitter cold1   ,and ,i am sick at heart4
  ,the ghost in 8,hamlet0 is as         
faithfully treated as any character in  
the play4 ,next to ,hamlet himself1 he  
is to me the most interesting person of 
the drama4 ,the rumour of his appearance
 is wrapped in the larger rumour of war4
 ,loud preparations for uncertain attack
 fill the ears of 8the subject of the   
land40 ,the state is troubled4 ,the new 
king has hardly compassed his election  
before his marriage with his brother's  
widow swathes the court in the          
dust-cloud of shame1 which the merriment
 of its forced revelry can do little to 
dispel4 ,a feeling is in the moral air  
to which the words of ,francisco1 the   
only words of significance he utters1   

give the key3 8#8,tis bitter cold1 and  
,i am sick at heart40 ,into the frosty  
air1 the pallid moonlight1 the drunken  
shouts of ,claudius and his court1 the  
bellowing of the cannon from the rampart
 for the enlargement of the insane      
clamour that it may beat the drum of its
 own disgrace at the portals of heaven1 
glides the silent prisoner of hell1 no  
longer a king of the day walking about  
his halls1 8the observed of all         
observers10 but a thrall of the night1  
wandering between the bell and the cock1
 like a jailer on each side of him4 ,a  
poet tells the tale of the king who lost
 his garments and ceased to be a king3  
here is the king who has lost his body1 
and in the eyes of his court has ceased 
to be a man4 ,is the cold of the earth's
 night pleasant to him after the purging
 fire8 ,what crimes had the honest ghost
 committed in his days of nature8 ,he   
calls them foul crimes6 ,could such be  
his8 ,only who can tell how a ghost1    
with his doubled experience1 may think  

of this thing or that8 ,the ghost and   
the fire may between them distinctly    
recognize that as a foul crime which the
 man and the court regarded as a        
weakness at worst1 and indeed in a king 
laudable4  ,alas1 poor ghost6 ,around   
the house he flits1 shifting and        
shadowy1 over the ground he once paced  
in ringing armour--armed still1 but his 
very armour a shadow6 ,it cannot keep   
out the arrow of the cock's cry1 and the
 heart that pierces is no shadow4 ,where
 now is the loaded axe with which1 in   
angry dispute1 he smote the ice at his  
feet that cracked to the blow8 ,where is
 the arm that heaved the axe8 ,wasting  
in the marble maw of the sepulchre1 and 
the arm he carries now--,i know not what
 it can do1 but it cannot slay his      
murderer4 ,for that he seeks his son's4 
,doubtless his new ethereal form has its
 capacities and privileges4 ,it can     
shift its garb at will2 can appear in   
mail or night-gown1 unaided of armourer 
or tailor2 can pass through ,hades-gates

 or chamber-door with equal ease2 can   
work in the ground like mole or pioneer1
 and let its voice be heard from the    
cellarage4 ,but there is one to whom it 
cannot appear1 one whom the ghost can   
see1 but to whom he cannot show himself4
 ,she has built a doorless1 windowless  
wall between them1 and sees the husband 
of her youth no more4 ,outside her      
heart--that is the night in which he    
wanders1 while the palace-windows are   
flaring1 and the low wind throbs to the 
wassail shouts3 within1 his murderer    
sits by the wife of his bosom1 and in   
the orchard the spilt poison is yet     
gnawing at the roots of the daisies4    
,twice has the ghost grown out of the   
night upon the eyes of the sentinels4   
,with solemn march1 slow and stately1   
three times each night1 has he walked by
 them2 they1 jellied with fear1 have    
uttered no challenge4 ,they seek        
,horatio1 who the third night speaks to 
him as a scholar can4 ,to the first     
challenge he makes no answer1 but stalks

 away2 to the second1    ,it lifted up  
its head1 and did address   ,itself to  
motion1 like as it would speak2  but the
 gaoler cock calls him1 and the kingly  
shape            started like a guilty  
thing   ,upon a fearful summons2  and   
then            shrunk in haste away1   
,and vanished from our sight4  ,ah1 that
 summons6 at which majesty welks and    
shrivels1 the king and soldier starts   
and cowers1 and1 armour and all1 withers
 from the air6  ,but why has he not     
spoken before8 why not now ere the cock 
could claim him8 ,he cannot trust the   
men4 ,his court has forsaken his        
memory--crowds with as eager discontent 
about the mildewed ear as ever about his
 wholesome brother1 and how should he   
trust mere sentinels8 ,there is but one 
who will heed his tale4 ,a word to any  
other would but defeat his intent4 ,out 
of the multitude of courtiers and       
subjects1 in all the land of ,denmark1  
there is but one whom he can trust--his 
student-son4 ,him he has not yet        

found--the condition of a ghost         
involving strange difficulties4  ,or did
 the horror of the men at the sight of  
him wound and repel him8 ,does the sense
 of regal dignity1 not yet exhausted for
 all the fasting in fires1 unite with   
that of grievous humiliation to make him
 shun their speech8  ,but ,horatio--why 
does the ghost not answer him ere the   
time of the cock is come8 ,does he fold 
the cloak of indignation around him     
because his son's friend has addressed  
him as an intruder on the night1 an     
usurper of the form that is his own8    
,the companions of the speaker take note
 that he is offended and stalks away4   
,much has the kingly ghost to endure in 
his attempt to re-open relations with   
the world he has left3 when he has      
overcome his wrath and returns1 that    
moment ,horatio again insults him1      
calling him an illusion4 ,but this time 
he will bear it1 and opens his mouth to 
speak4 ,it is too late2 the cock is     
awake1 and he must go4 ,then alas for   

the buried majesty of ,denmark6 with    
upheaved halberts they strike at the    
shadow1 and would stop it if they       
might--usage so grossly unfitting that  
they are instantly ashamed of it        
themselves1 recognizing the offence in  
the majesty of the offended4 ,but he is 
already gone4 ,the proud1 angry king has
 found himself but a thing of nothing to
 his body-guard--for he has lost the    
body which was their guard4 ,still1 not 
even yet has he learned how little it   
lies in the power of an honest ghost to 
gain credit for himself or his tale6    
,his very privileges are against him4   
,all this time his son is consuming his 
heart in the knowledge of a mother      
capable of so soon and so utterly       
forgetting such a husband1 and in pity  
and sorrow for the dead father who has  
had such a wife4 ,he is thirty years of 
age1 an obedient1 honourable son--a man 
of thought1 of faith1 of aspiration4    
,him now the ghost seeks1 his heart     
burning like a coal with the sense of   

unendurable wrong4 ,he is seeking the   
one drop that can fall cooling on that  
heart--the sympathy1 the answering rage 
and grief of his boy4 ,but when at      
length he finds him1 the generous1      
loving father has to see that son       
tremble like an aspen-leaf in his       
doubtful presence4 ,he has exposed      
himself to the shame of eyes and the    
indignities of dullness1 that he may    
pour the pent torrent of his wrongs into
 his ears1 but his disfranchisement from
 the flesh tells against him even with  
his son3 the young ,hamlet is doubtful  
of the identity of the apparition with  
his father4 ,after all the burning words
 of the phantom1 the spirit he has seen 
may yet be a devil2 the devil has power 
to assume a pleasing shape1 and is      
perhaps taking advantage of his         
melancholy to damn him4  ,armed in the  
complete steel of a suit well known to  
the eyes of the sentinels1 visionary    
none the less1 with useless truncheon in
 hand1 resuming the memory of old       

martial habits1 but with quiet          
countenance1 more in sorrow than in     
anger1 troubled--not now with the       
thought of the hell-day to which he must
 sleepless return1 but with that        
unceasing ache at the heart1 which ever1
 as often as he is released into the    
cooling air of the upper world1 draws   
him back to the region of his           
wrongs--where having fallen asleep in   
his orchard1 in sacred security and old 
custom1 suddenly1 by cruel assault1 he  
was flung into ,hades1 where horror upon
 horror awaited him--worst horror of    
all1 the knowledge of his wife6--armed  
he comes1 in shadowy armour but how real
 sorrow6 ,still it is not pity he seeks 
from his son3 he needs it not--he can   
endure4 ,there is no weakness in the    
ghost4 ,it is but to the imperfect human
 sense that he is shadowy4 ,to himself  
he knows his doom his deliverance2 that 
the hell in which he finds himself shall
 endure but until it has burnt up the   
hell he has found within him--until the 

evil he was and is capable of shall have
 dropped from him into the lake of fire2
 he nerves himself to bear4 ,and the cry
 of revenge that comes from the         
sorrowful lips is the cry of a king and 
a ,dane rather than of a wronged man4   
,it is for public justice and not       
individual vengeance he calls4 ,he      
cannot endure that the royal bed of     
,denmark should be a couch for luxury   
and damned incest4 ,to stay this he     
would bring the murderer to justice4    
,there is a worse wrong1 for which he   
seeks no revenge3 it involves his wife2 
and there comes in love1 and love knows 
no amends but amendment1 seeks only the 
repentance tenfold more needful to the  
wronger than the wronged4 ,it is not    
alone the father's care for the human   
nature of his son that warns him to take
 no measures against his mother2 it is  
the husband's tenderness also for her   
who once lay in his bosom4 ,the murdered
 brother1 the dethroned king1 the       
dishonoured husband1 the tormented      

sinner1 is yet a gentle ghost4 ,has     
suffering already begun to make him1    
like ,prometheus1 wise8  ,but to measure
 the gentleness1 the forgiveness1 the   
tenderness of the ghost1 we must well   
understand his wrongs4 ,the murder is   
plain2 but there is that which went     
before and is worse1 yet is not so plain
 to every eye that reads the story4     
,there is that without which the murder 
had never been1 and which1 therefore1 is
 a cause of all the wrong4 ,for listen  
to what the ghost reveals when at length
 he has withdrawn his son that he may   
speak with him alone1 and ,hamlet has   
forestalled the disclosure of the       
murderer3    8,ay1 that incestuous1 that
 adulterate beast1   ,with witchcraft of
 his wit1 with traitorous gifts1   7,o  
wicked wit and gifts that have the power
   ,so to seduce67 won to his shameful  
lust   ,the will of my most seeming     
virtuous queen3   ,oh1 ,hamlet1 what a  
falling off was there6   ,from me1 whose
 love was of that dignity   ,that it    

went hand in hand even with the vow   ,i
 made to her in marriage1 and to decline
   ,upon a wretch1 whose natural gifts  
were poor   ,to those of mine6   ,but   
virtue--as it never will be moved       
,though lewdness court it in a shape of 
heaven1   ,so lust1 though to a radiant 
angel linked1   ,will sate itself in a  
celestial bed1   ,and prey on garbage40 
,reading this passage1 can any one doubt
 that the ghost charges his late wife   
with adultery1 as the root of all his   
woes8 ,it is true that1 obedient to the 
ghost's injunctions1 as well as his own 
filial instincts1 ,hamlet accuses his   
mother of no more than was patent to all
 the world2 but unless we suppose the   
ghost misinformed or mistaken1 we must  
accept this charge4 ,and had ,gertrude  
not yielded to the witchcraft of        
,claudius' wit1 ,claudius would never   
have murdered ,hamlet4 ,through her his 
life was dishonoured1 and his death     
violent and premature3 unhuzled1        
disappointed1 unaneled1 he woke to the  

air--not of his orchard-blossoms1 but of
 a prison-house1 the lightest word of   
whose terrors would freeze the blood of 
the listener4 ,what few men can say1 he 
could--that his love to his wife had    
kept even step with the vow he made to  
her in marriage2 and his son says of    
him--                8so loving to my   
mother   ,that he might not beteem the  
winds of heaven   ,visit her face too   
roughly20  and this was her return6 ,yet
 is it thus he charges his son          
concerning her3    8,but howsoever thou 
pursu'st this act1   ,taint not thy     
mind1 nor let thy soul contrive         
,against thy mother aught2 leave her to 
heaven1   ,and to those thorns that in  
her bosom lodge1   ,to prick and sting  
her40  ,and may we not suppose it to be 
for her sake in part that the ghost     
insists1 with fourfold repetition1 upon 
a sword-sworn oath to silence from      
,horatio and ,marcellus8  ,only once    
again does he show himself--not now in  
armour upon the walls1 but in his gown  

and in his wife's closet4  ,ever since  
his first appearance1 that is1 all the  
time filling the interval between the   
first and second acts1 we may presume   
him to have haunted the palace unseen1  
waiting what his son would do4 ,but the 
task has been more difficult than either
 had supposed4 ,the ambassadors have    
gone to ,norway and returned2 but       
,hamlet has done nothing4 ,probably he  
has had no opportunity2 certainly he has
 had no clear vision of duty4 ,but now  
all through the second and third acts1  
together occupying1 it must be          
remembered1 only one day1 something     
seems imminent4 ,the play has been      
acted1 and ,hamlet has gained some      
assurance1 yet the one chance presented 
of killing the king--at his prayers--he 
has refused4 ,he is now in his mother's 
closet1 whose eyes he has turned into   
her very soul4 ,there1 and then1 the    
ghost once more appears--come1 he says1 
to whet his son's almost blunted        
purpose4 ,but1 as ,i have said1 he does 

not know all the disadvantages of one   
who1 having forsaken the world1 has yet 
business therein to which he would      
persuade2 he does not know how hard it  
is for a man to give credence to a      
ghost2 how thoroughly he is justified in
 delay1 and the demand for more perfect 
proof4 ,he does not know what good      
reasons his son has had for uncertainty1
 or how much natural and righteous doubt
 has had to do with what he takes for   
the blunting of his purpose4 ,neither   
does he know how much more tender his   
son's conscience is than his own1 or how
 necessary it is to him to be sure      
before he acts4 ,as little perhaps does 
he understand how hateful to ,hamlet is 
the task laid upon him--the killing of  
one wretched villain in the midst of a  
corrupt and contemptible court1 one of a
 world of whose women his mother may be 
the type6  ,whatever the main object of 
the ghost's appearance1 he has spoken   
but a few words concerning the matter   
between him and ,hamlet1 when he turns  

abruptly from it to plead with his son  
for his wife4 ,the ghost sees and       
mistakes the terror of her looks2       
imagines that1 either from some feeling 
of his presence1 or from the power of   
,hamlet's words1 her conscience is      
thoroughly roused1 and that her vision1 
her conception of the facts1 is now more
 than she can bear4 ,she and her        
fighting soul are at odds4 ,she is a    
kingdom divided against itself4 ,he     
fears the consequences4 ,he would not   
have her go mad4 ,he would not have her 
die yet4 ,even while ready to start at  
the summons of that hell to which she   
has sold him1 he forgets his vengeance  
on her seducer in his desire to comfort 
her4 ,he dares not1 if he could1        
manifest himself to her3 what word of   
consolation could she hear from his     
lips8 ,is not the thought of him her one
 despair8 ,he turns to his son for help3
 he cannot console his wife2 his son    
must take his place4 ,alas6 even now he 
thinks better of her than she deserves2 

for it is only the fancy of her son's   
madness that is terrifying her3 he gazes
 on the apparition of which she sees    
nothing1 and from his looks she         
anticipates an ungovernable outbreak4   
8,but look2 amazement on thy mother     
sits6   ,oh2 step between her and her   
fighting soul   ,conceit in weakest     
bodies strongest works4   ,speak to her1
 ,hamlet40  ,the call to his son to     
soothe his wicked mother is the ghost's 
last utterance4 ,for a few moments1     
sadly regardful of the two1 he          
stands--while his son seeks in vain to  
reveal to his mother the presence of his
 father--a few moments of piteous       
action1 all but ruining the remnant of  
his son's sorely-harassed               
self-possession--his whole concern his  
wife's distress1 and neither his own    
doom nor his son's duty2 then1 as if    
lost in despair at the impassable gulf  
betwixt them1 revealed by her utter     
incapacity for even the imagination of  
his proximity1 he turns away1 and steals

 out at the portal4 ,or perhaps he has  
heard the black cock crow1 and is wanted
 beneath3 his turn has come4  ,will the 
fires ever cleanse her8 ,will his love  
ever lift him above the pain of its     
loss8 ,will eternity ever be bliss1 ever
 be endurable to poor ,king ,hamlet8    
,alas6 even the memory of the poor ghost
 is insulted4 ,night after night on the 
stage his effigy appears--cadaverous1   
sepulchral--no longer as ,shakspere must
 have represented him1 aerial1 shadowy1 
gracious1 the thin corporeal husk of an 
eternal--shall ,i say                   
ineffaceable8--sorrow6 ,it is no hollow 
monotone that can rightly upbear such   
words as his1 but a sound mingled of    
distance and wind in the pine-tops1 of  
agony and love1 of horror and hope and  
loss and judgment--a voice of endless   
and sweetest inflection1 yet with a     
shuddering echo in it as from the caves 
of memory1 on whose walls1 are written  
the eternal blazon that must not be to  
ears of flesh and blood4 ,the spirit    

that can assume form at will must surely
 be able to bend that form to completest
 and most delicate expression1 and the  
part of the ghost in the play offers    
work worthy of the highest artist4 ,the 
would-be actor takes from it vitality   
and motion1 endowing it instead with the
 rigidity of death1 as if the soul had  
resumed its cast-off garment1 the       
stiffened and mouldy corpse--whose      
frozen deadness it could ill model to   
the utterance of its lively will6       
,,on ,,polish4   ,footnote3 #ahfe  ,by  
,polish ,i mean a certain well-known and
 immediately recognizable condition of  
surface4 ,but ,i must request my reader 
to consider well what this condition    
really is4 ,for the definition of it    
appears to us to be1 that condition of  
surface which allows the inner structure
 of the material to manifest itself4    
,polish is1 as it were1 a translucent   
skin1 in which the life of the inorganic
 comes to the surface1 as in the animal 
skin the animal life4 ,once clothed in  

this1 the inner glories of the marble   
rock1 of the jasper1 of the porphyry1   
leave the darkness behind1 and glow into
 the day4 ,from the heart of the agate  
the mossy landscape comes dreaming out4 
,from the depth of the green chrysolite 
looks up the eye of its gold4 ,the      
8goings on of life0 hidden for ages     
under the rough bark of the patient     
forest-trees1 are brought to light2 the 
rings of lovely shadow which the        
creature went on making in the dark1 as 
the oyster its opaline laminations1 and 
its tree-pearls of beautiful knots1     
where a beneficent disease has broken   
the geometrical perfection of its       
structure1 gloom out in their infinite  
variousness4  ,nor are the revelations  
of polish confined to things having     
variety in their internal construction2 
they operate equally in things of       
homogeneous structure4 ,it is the       
polished ebony or jet which gives the   
true blank1 the material darkness4 ,it  
is the polished steel that shines keen  

and remorseless and cold1 like that     
human justice whose symbol it is4 ,and  
in the polished diamond the distinctive 
purity is most evident2 while from it1  
,i presume1 will the light absorbed from
 the sun gleam forth on the dark most   
plentifully4  ,but the mere fact that   
the end of polish is revelation1 can    
hardly be worth setting forth except for
 some ulterior object1 some further     
revelation in the fact itself4--,i wish 
to show that in the symbolic use of the 
word the same truth is involved1 or1 if 
not involved1 at least suggested4 ,but  
let me first make another remark on the 
preceding definition of the word4       
,there is no denying that the first     
notion suggested by the word polish is  
that of smoothness1 which will indeed be
 the sole idea associated with it before
 we begin to contemplate the matter4    
,but when we consider what things are   
chosen to be 8clothed upon0 with this   
smoothness1 then we find that the       
smoothness is scarcely desired for its  

own sake1 and remember besides that in  
many materials and situations it is     
elaborately avoided4 ,we find that here 
it is sought because of its faculty of  
enabling other things to show           
themselves--to come to the surface4  ,i 
proceed then to examine how far my      
pregnant interpretation of the word will
 apply to its figurative use in two     
cases--,polish of ,style1 and ,polish of
 ,manners4 ,the two might be treated    
together1 seeing that ,style may be     
called the manners of intellectual      
utterance1 and ,manners the style of    
social utterance2 but it is more        
convenient to treat them separately4  ,i
 will begin with the ,polish of ,style4 
,it will be seen at once that if the    
notion of polish be limited to that of  
smoothness1 there can be little to say  
on the matter1 and nothing worthy of    
being said4 ,for mere smoothness is no  
more a desirable quality in a style than
 it is in a country or a countenance2   
and its pursuit will result at length in

 the gain of the monotonous and the loss
 of the melodious and harmonious4 ,but  
it is only upon worthless material that 
polish can be mere smoothness2 and where
 the material is not valuable1 polish   
can be nothing but smoothness4 ,no      
amount of polish in a style can render  
the production of value1 except there be
 in it embodied thought thereby         
revealed2 and the labour of the polish  
is lost4 ,let us then take the fuller   
meaning of polish1 and see how it will  
apply to style4  ,if it applies1 then   
,polish of ,style will imply the        
approximately complete revelation of the
 thought4 ,it will be the removal of    
everything that can interfere between   
the thought of the speaker and the mind 
of the hearer4 ,true polish in marble or
 in speech reveals inlying realities1   
and1 in the latter at least1 mere       
smoothness1 either of sound or of       
meaning1 is not worthy of the name4 ,the
 most polished style will be that which 
most immediately and most truly flashes 

the meaning embodied in the utterance   
upon the mind of the listener or reader4
  8,will you then10 ,i imagine a reader 
objecting1 8admit of no ornament in     
style80  8,assuredly10 ,i answer1 8,i   
would admit of no ornament whatever40   
,but let me explain what ,i mean by     
ornament4 ,i mean anything stuck in or  
on1 like a spangle1 because it is pretty
 in itself1 although it reveals nothing4
 ,not one such ornament can belong to a 
polished style4 ,it is paint1 not       
polish4 ,and if this is not what my     
questioner means by ornament1 my answer 
must then be read according to the      
differences in his definition of the    
word4 ,what ,i have said has not the    
least application to the natural forms  
of beauty which thought assumes in      
speech4 ,between such beauty and such   
ornament there lies the same difference 
as between the overflow of life in the  
hair1 and the dressing of that loveliest
 of utterances in grease and gold4      
,for1 when ,i say that polish is the    

removal of everything that comes between
 thought and thinking1 it must not be   
supposed that in my idea thought is only
 of the intellect1 and therefore that   
all forms but bare intellectual forms   
are of the nature of ornament4 ,as well 
might one say that the only essential   
portion of the human form is the bones4 
,and every human thought is in a sense a
 human being1 has as necessarily its    
muscles of motion1 its skin of beauty1  
its blood of feeling1 as its skeleton of
 logic4 ,for complete utterance1 music  
itself in its right proportions1        
sometimes clear and strong1 as in rhymed
 harmonies1 sometimes veiled and dim1 as
 in the prose compositions of the       
masters of speech1 is as necessary as   
correctness of logic1 and common sense  
in construction4 ,i should have said    
conveyance rather than utterance2 for   
there may be utterance such as to       
relieve the mind of the speaker with    
more or less of fancied communication1  
while the conveyance of thought may be  

little or none2 as in the speaking with 
tongues of the infant ,church1 to which 
the lovely babblement of our children   
has probably more than a figurative     
resemblance1 relieving their own minds1 
but1 the interpreter not yet at his     
post1 neither instructing nor misleading
 any one4 ,but as the object of grown-up
 speech must in the main be the         
conveyance of thought1 and not the mere 
utterance1 everything in the style of   
that speech which interposes between the
 mental eyes and the thought embodied in
 the speech1 must be polished away1 that
 the indwelling life may manifest       
itself4  ,what1 then 7for now we must   
come to the practical71 is the kind of  
thing to be polished away in order that 
the hidden may be revealed8  ,all words 
that can be dismissed without loss2 for 
all such more or less obscure the       
meaning upon which they gather4 ,the    
first step towards the polishing of most
 styles is to strike out--polish        
off--the useless words and phrases4 ,it 

is wonderful with how many fewer words  
most things could be said that are said2
 while the degree of certainty and      
rapidity with which an idea is conveyed 
would generally be found to be in an    
inverse ratio to the number of words    
employed4  ,all ornaments so called--the
 nose and lip jewels of style--the      
tattooing of the speech2 all similes    
that1 although true1 give no additional 
insight into the meaning2 everything    
that is only pretty and not beautiful2  
all mere sparkle as of jewels that lose 
their own beauty by being set in the    
grandeur of statues or the dignity of   
monumental stone1 must be ruthlessly    
polished away4  ,all utterances which1  
however they may add to the amount of   
thought1 distract the mind1 and confuse 
its observation of the main idea1 the   
essence or life of the book or paper1   
must be diligently refused4 ,in the     
manuscript of ,comus there exists1      
cancelled but legible1 a passage of     
which ,i have the best authority for    

saying that it would have made the      
poetic fame of any writer4 ,but the     
grand old self-denier struck it out of  
the opening speech because that would be
 more polished without it--because the  
,attendant ,spirit would say more       
immediately and exclusively1 and        
therefore more completely1 what he had  
to say1 without it4--,all this applies  
much more widely and deeply in the      
region of art2 but ,i am at present     
dealing with the surface of style1 not  
with the round of result4  ,i have one  
instance at hand1 however1 belonging to 
this region1 than which ,i could        
scarcely produce a more apt illustration
 of my thesis4 ,one of the greatest of  
living painters1 walking with a friend  
through the late ,exhibition of         
,art-,treasures at ,manchester1 came    
upon ,albert ,drer's ,melancholia4      
,after looking at it for a moment1 he   
told his friend that now for the first  
time he understood it1 and proceeded to 
set forth what he saw in it4 ,it was a  

very early impression1 and the delicacy 
of the lines was so much the greater4   
,he had never seen such a perfect       
impression before1 and had never        
perceived the intent and scope of the   
engraving4 ,the mere removal of         
accidental thickness and furriness in   
the lines of the drawing enabled him to 
see into the meaning of that wonderful  
production4 ,the polish brought it to   
the surface4 ,or1 what amounts to the   
same thing for my argument1 the dulling 
of the surface had concealed it even    
from his experienced eyes4  ,in fine1   
and more generally1 all cause whatever  
of obscurity must be polished away4     
,there may lie in the matter itself a   
darkness of colour and texture which no 
amount of polishing can render clear or 
even vivid2 the thoughts themselves may 
be hard to think1 and difficulty must   
not be confounded with obscurity4 ,the  
former belongs to the thoughts          
themselves2 the latter to the mode of   
their embodiment4 ,all cause of         

obscurity in this must1 ,i say1 be      
removed4 ,such may lie even in the      
region of grammar1 or in the mere       
arrangement of a sentence4 ,and while1  
as ,i have said1 no ornament is to be   
allowed1 so all roughnesses1 which      
irritate the mental ear1 and so far     
incapacitate it for receiving a true    
impression of the meaning from the      
words1 must be carefully reduced4 ,for  
the true music of a sentence1 belonging 
as it does to the essence of the thought
 itself1 is the herald which goes before
 to prepare the mind for the following  
thought1 calming the surface of the     
intellect to a mirror-like reflection of
 the image about to fall upon it4 ,but  
syllables that hang heavy on the tongue 
and grate harsh upon the ear are the    
trumpet of discord rousing to           
unconscious opposition and conscious    
rejection4  ,and now the consideration  
of the ,polish of ,manners will lead us 
to some yet more important reflections4 
,here again ,i must admit that the      

ordinary use of the phrase is analogous 
to that of the preceding2 but its       
relations lead us deep into realities4  
,for as diamond alone can polish        
diamond1 so men alone can polish men2   
and hence it is that it was first by    
living in a city 7,greek3 polis1 polis7 
that men--    8rubbed each other's      
angles down10  and became polished4 ,and
 while a certain amount of ease with    
regard to ourselves and of consideration
 with regard to others is everywhere    
necessary to a man's passing as a       
gentleman--all unevenness of behaviour  
resulting either from shyness or        
self-consciousness 7in the shape of     
awkwardness71 or from overweening or    
selfishness 7in the shape of rudeness71 
having to be polished away--true human  
polish must go further than this4 ,its  
respects are not confined to the manners
 of the ball-room or the dinner-table1  
of the club or the exchange1 but        
wherever a man may rejoice with them    
that rejoice or weep with them that     

weep1 he must remain one and the same1  
as polished to the tiller of the soil as
 to the leader of the fashion4  ,but how
 will the figure of material polish aid 
us any further8 ,how can it be said that
 ,polish of ,manners is a revelation of 
that which is within1 a calling up to   
the surface of the hidden loveliness of 
the material8 ,for do we not know that  
courtesy may cover contempt2 that smiles
 themselves may hide hate2 that one who 
will place you at his right hand when in
 want of your inferior aid1 may scarce  
acknowledge your presence when his      
necessity has gone by8 ,and how then can
 polished manners be a revelation of    
what is within8 ,are they not the result
 of putting on rather than of taking    
off8 ,are they not paint and varnish    
rather than polish8  ,i must yield the  
answer to each of these questions2      
protesting1 however1 that with such     
polish ,i have nothing to do2 for these 
manners are confessedly false4 ,but even
 where least able to mislead1 they are1 

with corresponding courtesy1 accepted as
 outward signs of an inward grace4      
,hence even such1 by the nature of their
 falsehood1 support my position4 ,for in
 what forms are the colours of the paint
 laid upon the surface of the material8 
,is it not in as near imitations of the 
real right human feelings about oneself 
and others as the necessarily imperfect 
knowledge of such an artist can produce8
 ,he will not encounter the labour of   
polishing1 for he does not believe in   
the divine depths of his own nature3 he 
paints1 and calls the varnish polish4   
8,but why talk of polish with reference 
to such a character1 seeing that no     
amount of polishing can bring to the    
surface what is not there8 ,no polishing
 of sandstone will reveal the mottling  
of marble4 ,for it is sandstone1        
crumbling and gritty--not noble in any  
way40  ,is it so then8 ,can such be the 
real nature of the man8 ,and can polish 
reach nothing deeper in him than such8  
,may not this selfishness be polished   

away1 revealing true colour and harmony 
beneath8 ,was not the man made in the   
image of ,god8 ,or1 if you say that man 
lost that image1 did not a new process  
of creation begin from the point of that
 loss1 a process of re-creation in him  
in whom all shall be made alive1 which1 
although so far from being completed    
yet1 can never be checked8 ,if we cut   
away deep enough at the rough block of  
our nature1 shall we not arrive at some 
likeness of that true man who1 the      
apostle says1 dwells in us--the hope of 
glory8 ,he informs us--that is1 forms us
 from within4  ,dr4 ,donne 7who knew    
less than any other writer in the       
,english language what ,polish of ,style
 means7 recognizes this divine polishing
 to the full4 ,he says in a poem called 
8,the ,cross30--    ,as perchance       
carvers do not faces make1   ,but that  
away1 which hid them there1 do take1    
,let ,crosses so take what hid ,christ  
in thee1   ,and be his ,image1 or not   
his1 but ,he4  ,this is no doubt a      

higher figure than that of polish1 but  
it is of the same kind1 revealing the   
same truth4 ,it recognizes the fact that
 the divine nature lies at the root of  
the human nature1 and that the polish   
which lets that spiritual nature shine  
out in the simplicity of heavenly       
childhood1 is the true ,polish of       
,manners of which all merely social     
refinements are a poor                  
imitation4--,whence ,coleridge says that
 nothing but religion can make a man a  
gentleman4--,and when these harmonies of
 our nature come to the surface1 we     
shall be indeed 8lively stones10 fit for
 building into the great temple of the  
universe1 and echoing the music of      
creation4 ,dr4 ,donne recognizes1       
besides1 the notable fact that crosses  
or afflictions are the polishing powers 
by means of which the beautiful         
realities of human nature are brought to
 the surface4 ,one can tell at once by  
the peculiar loveliness of certain      
persons that they have suffered4  ,but1 

to look for a moment less profoundly    
into the matter1 have we not known those
 whose best never could get to the      
surface just from the lack of           
polish8--persons who1 if they could only
 reveal the kindness of their nature1   
would make men believe in human nature1 
but in whom some roughness of           
awkwardness or of shyness prevents the  
true self from appearing8 ,even the     
dread of seeming to claim a good deed or
 to patronize a fellow-man will         
sometimes spoil the last touch of       
tenderness which would have been the    
final polish of the act of giving1 and  
would have revealed infinite depths of  
human devotion4 ,for let the truth out1 
and it will be seen to be true4         
,simplicity is the end of all ,polish1  
as of all ,art1 ,culture1 ,morals1      
,religion1 and ,life4 ,the ,lord our    
,god is one ,lord1 and we and our       
brothers and sisters are one ,humanity1 
one ,body of the ,head4  ,now to the    
practical3 what are we to do for the    

polish of our manners8  ,just what ,i   
have said we must do for the polish of  
our style4 ,take off2 do not put on4    
,polish away this rudeness1 that        
awkwardness4 ,correct everything        
self-assertive1 which includes nine     
tenths of all vulgarity4 ,imitate no    
one's behaviour2 that is to paint4 ,do  
not think about yourself2 that is to    
varnish4 ,put what is wrong right1 and  
what is in you will show itself in      
harmonious behaviour4  ,but no one can  
go far in this track without discovering
 that true polish reaches much deeper2  
that the outward exists but for the sake
 of the inward2 and that the manners1 as
 they depend on the morals1 must be     
forgotten in the morals of which they   
are but the revelation4 ,look at the    
high-shouldered1 ungainly child in the  
corner3 his mother tells him to go to   
his book1 and he wants to go to his     
play4 ,regard the swollen lips1 the skin
 tightened over the nose1 the distortion
 of his shape1 the angularity of his    

whole appearance4 ,yet he is not an     
awkward child by nature4 ,look at him   
again the moment after he has given in  
and kissed his mother4 ,his shoulders   
have dropped to their place2 his limbs  
are free from the fetters that bound    
them2 his motions are graceful1 and the 
one blends harmoniously with the other4 
,he is no longer thinking of himself4   
,he has given up his own way4 ,the true 
childhood comes to the surface1 and you 
see what the boy is meant to be always4 
,look at the jerkiness of the conceited 
man4 ,look at the quiet fluency of      
motion in the modest man4 ,look how     
anger itself which forgets self1 which  
is unhating and righteous1 will elevate 
the carriage and ennoble the movements4 
,but how far can the same rule of       
omission or rejection be applied with   
safety to this deeper character--the    
manners of the spirit8  ,it seems to me 
that in morals too the main thing is to 
avoid doing wrong2 for then the active  
spirit of life in us will drive us on to

 the right4 ,but on such a momentous    
question ,i would not be dogmatic4 ,only
 as far as regards the feelings ,i would
 say3 it is of no use to try to make    
ourselves feel thus or thus4 ,let us    
fight with our wrong feelings2 let us   
polish away the rough ugly distortions  
of feeling4 ,then the real and the good 
will come of themselves4 ,or rather1 to 
keep to my figure1 they will then show  
themselves of themselves as the natural 
home-produce1 the indwelling facts of   
our deepest--that is1 our divine nature4
  ,here ,i find that ,i am sinking      
through my subject into another and     
deeper--a truth1 namely1 which should1  
however1 be the foundation of all our   
building1 the background of all our     
representations3 that ,life is at work  
in us--the sacred ,spirit of ,god       
travailing in us4 ,that ,spirit has     
gained one end of his labour--at which  
he can begin to do yet more for us--when
 he has brought us to beg for the help  
which he has been giving us all the     

time4  ,i have been regarding infinite  
things through the medium of one limited
 figure1 knowing that figures with all  
their suggestions and relations could   
not reveal them utterly4 ,but so far as 
they go1 these thoughts raised by the   
word ,polish and its figurative uses    
appear to me to be most true4           
,,browning',s 8,,christmas ,,eve0       
,footnote3 #ahec4   ,goethe says3--     
8,poems are painted window panes4   ,if 
one looks from the square into the      
church1   ,dusk and dimness are his     
gains--   ,sir ,philistine is left in   
the lurch6   ,the sight1 so seen1 may   
well enrage him1   ,nor anything        
henceforth assuage him4    8,but come   
just inside what conceals2   ,cross the 
holy threshold quite--   ,all at once   
#8tis rainbow-bright1   ,device and     
story flash to light1   ,a gracious     
splendour truth reveals4   ,this to     
,god's children is full measure1   ,it  
edifies and gives you pleasure60  ,this 
is true concerning every form in which  

truth is embodied1 whether it be sight  
or sound1 geometric diagram or          
scientific formula4 ,unintelligible1 it 
may be dismal enough1 regarded from the 
outside2 prismatic in its revelation of 
truth from within4 ,such is the world   
itself1 as beheld by the speculative    
eye2 a thing of disorder1 obscurity1 and
 sadness3 only the child-like heart1 to 
which the door into the divine idea is  
thrown open1 can understand somewhat the
 secret of the ,almighty4 ,in human     
things it is particularly true of art1  
in which the fundamental idea seems to  
be the revelation of the true through   
the beautiful4 ,but of all the arts it  
is most applicable to poetry2 for the   
others have more that is beautiful on   
the outside2 can give pleasure to the   
senses by the form of the marble1 the   
hues of the painting1 or the sweet      
sounds of the music1 although the heart 
may never perceive the meaning that lies
 within4 ,but poetry1 except its        
rhythmic melody1 and its scattered      

gleams of material imagery1 for which   
few care that love it not for its own   
sake1 has no attraction on the outside  
to entice the passer to enter and       
partake of its truth4 ,it is inwards    
that its colours shine1 within that its 
forms move1 and the sound of its holy   
organ cannot be heard from without4     
,now1 if one has been able to reach the 
heart of a poem1 answering to ,goethe's 
parabolic description2 or even to       
discover a loop-hole1 through which1    
from an opposite point1 the glories of  
its stained windows are visible2 it is  
well that he should seek to make others 
partakers in his pleasure and profit4   
,some who might not find out for        
themselves1 would yet be evermore       
grateful to him who led them to the     
point of vision4 ,surely if a man would 
help his fellow-men1 he can do so far   
more effectually by exhibiting truth    
than exposing error1 by unveiling beauty
 than by a critical dissection of       
deformity4 ,from the very nature of the 

things it must be so4 ,let the true and 
good destroy their opposites4 ,it is    
only by the good and beautiful that the 
evil and ugly are known4 ,it is the     
light that makes manifest4  ,the poem   
8,christmas ,eve10 by ,robert ,browning1
 with the accompanying poem 8,easter    
,day10 seems not to have attracted much 
notice from the readers of poetry1      
although highly prized by a few4 ,this  
is1 perhaps1 to be attributed1 in a     
great measure1 to what many would call a
 considerable degree of obscurity4 ,but 
obscurity is the appearance which to a  
first glance may be presented either by 
profundity or carelessness of thought4  
,to some1 obscurity itself is           
attractive1 from the hope that          
worthiness is the cause of it4 ,to apply
 a test similar to that by which ,pascal
 tries the ,koran and the ,scriptures3  
what is the character of those portions1
 the meaning of which is plain8 ,are    
they wise or foolish8 ,if the former1   
the presumption is that the obscurity of

 other parts is caused not by opacity1  
but profundity4 ,but some will object1  
notwithstanding1 that a writer ought to 
make himself plain to his readers2 nay1 
that if he has a clear idea himself1 he 
must be able to express that idea       
clearly4 ,but for communion of thought1 
two minds1 not one1 are necessary4 ,the 
fault may lie in him that receives or in
 him that gives1 or it may be in        
neither4 ,for how can the result of much
 thought1 the idea which for mouths has 
been shaping itself in the mind of one  
man1 be at once received by another mind
 to which it comes a stranger and       
unexpected8 ,the reader has no right to 
complain of so caused obscurity4 ,nor is
 that form of expression1 which is most 
easily understood at first sight1       
necessarily the best4 ,it will not1     
therefore1 continue to move2 nor will it
 gather force and influence with more   
intimate acquaintance4 ,here ,goethe's  
little parable1 as he calls it1 is      
peculiarly applicable4 ,but1 indeed1 if 

after all a writer is obscure1 the man  
who has spent most labour in seeking to 
enter into his thoughts1 will be the    
least likely to complain of his         
obscurity2 and they who have the least  
difficulty in understanding a writer1   
are frequently those who understand him 
the least4  ,to those to whom the       
religion of ,christ has been the law of 
liberty2 who by that door have entered  
into the universe of ,god1 and have     
begun to feel a growing delight in all  
the manifestations of ,god1 it is cause 
of much joy to find that1 whatever may  
be the position taken by men of science1
 or by those in whom the intellect      
predominates1 with regard to the        
,christian religion1 men of genius1 at  
least1 in virtue of what is child-like  
in their nature1 are1 in the present    
time1 plainly manifesting deep devotion 
to ,christ4 ,there are exceptions1      
certainly2 but even in those1 there are 
symptoms of feelings which1 one can     
hardly help thinking1 tend towards him1 

and will one day flame forth in         
conscious worship4 ,a mind that         
recognizes any of the multitudinous     
meanings of the revelation of ,god1 in  
the world of sounds1 and forms1 and     
colours1 cannot be blind to the higher  
manifestation of ,god in common         
humanity2 nor to him in whom is hid the 
key to the whole1 the ,first-born of the
 creation of ,god1 in whose heart lies1 
as yet but partially developed1 the     
kingdom of heaven1 which is the         
redemption of the earth4 ,the mind that 
delights in that which is lofty and     
great1 which feels there is something   
higher than self1 will undoubtedly be   
drawn towards ,christ2 and they1 who at 
first looked on him as a great prophet1 
came at length to perceive that he was  
the radiation of the ,father's glory1   
the likeness of his unseen being4  ,a   
description of the poem may1 perhaps1   
both induce to the reading of it1 and   
contribute to its easier comprehension  
while being perused4 ,on a stormy       

,christmas ,eve1 the poet1 or rather the
 seer 7for the whole must be regarded as
 a poetic vision71 is compelled to take 
refuge in the 8lath and plaster entry0  
of a little chapel1 belonging to a      
congregation of ,calvinistic            
,methodists1 who are at the time        
assembling for worship4 ,wonderful in   
its reality is the description of       
various of the flock that pass him as   
they enter the chapel1 from             
8the many-tattered   ,little old-faced1 
peaking sister-turned-mother   ,of the  
sickly babe she tried to smother        
,somehow up1 with its spotted face1     
,from the cold1 on her breast1 the one  
warm place30  to the 8shoemaker's lad20 
whom he follows1 determined not to      
endure the inquisition of their looks   
any longer1 into the chapel4 ,the humour
 of the whole scene within is excellent4
 ,the stifling closeness1 both of the   
atmosphere and of the sermon1 the       
wonderful content of the audience1 the  
8old fat woman10 who                    

8purred with pleasure1   ,and thumb     
round thumb went twirling faster1       
,while she1 to his periods keeping      
measure1   ,maternally devoured the     
pastor20  are represented by a few rapid
 touches that bring certain points of   
the reality almost unpleasantly near4   
,at length1 unable to endure it longer1 
he rushes out into the air4 ,objection  
may1 probably1 be made to the mingling  
of the humorous1 even the ridiculous1   
with the serious2 at least1 in a work of
 art like this1 where they must be      
brought into such close proximity4 ,but 
are not these things as closely         
connected in the world as they can be in
 any representation of it8 ,surely there
 are few who have never had occasion to 
attempt to reconcile the thought of the 
two in their own minds4 ,nor can there  
be anything human that is not1 in some  
connexion or other1 admissible into art4
 ,the widest idea of art must comprehend
 all things4 ,a work of this kind must1 
like ,god's world1 in which he sends    

rain on the just and on the unjust1 be  
taken as a whole and in regard to its   
design4 ,the requisition is1 that       
everything introduced have a relation to
 the adjacent parts and to the whole    
suitable to the design4 ,here the thing 
is real1 is true1 is human2 a thing to  
be thought about4 ,it has its place     
amongst other phenomena1 with which1    
however apparently incongruous1 it is   
yet vitally connected within4  ,a       
coolness and delight visit us1 on       
turning over the page and commencing to 
read the description of sky1 and moon1  
and clouds1 which greet him outside the 
chapel4 ,it is as a vision of the       
vision-bearing world itself1 in one of  
its fine1 though not1 at first1 one of  
its rarest moods4 ,and here a short     
digression to notice like feelings in   
unlike dresses1 one thought differently 
expressed will1 perhaps1 be pardoned4   
,the moon is prevented from shining out 
by the 8blocks0 of cloud 8built up in   
the west30--    8,and the empty other   

half of the sky   ,seemed in its silence
 as if it knew   ,what1 any moment1     
might look through   ,a chance-gap in   
that fortress massy40  ,old ,henry      
,vaughan says of the 8,dawning30--      
8,the whole ,creation shakes off night1 
,and for thy shadow looks the ,light2   
,stars now vanish without number1       
,sleepie ,planets set and slumber1      
,the pursie ,clouds disband and scatter1
   ,all expect some sudden matter40     
,calmness settles down on his mind4 ,he 
walks on1 thinking of the scene he had  
left1 and the sermon he had heard4 ,in  
the latter he sees the good and the bad 
intimately mingled2 and is convinced    
that the chief benefit derived from it  
is a reproducing of former impressions4 
,the thought crosses him1 in how many   
places and how many different forms the 
same thing takes place1 8a convincing0  
of the 8convinced20 and he rejoices in  
the contrast which his church presents  
to these2 for in the church of ,nature  
his love to ,god1 assurance of ,god's   

love to him1 and confidence in the      
design of ,god regarding him1 commenced4
 ,while exulting in ,god and the        
knowledge of ,him to be attained        
hereafter1 he is favoured with a sight  
of a glorious moon-rainbow1 which       
elevates his worship to ecstasy4 ,during
 which--    8,all at once ,i looked up  
with terror--   ,he was there4   ,he    
himself with ,his human air1   ,on the  
narrow pathway1 just before3   ,i saw   
the back of ,him1 no more--   ,he had   
left the chapel1 then1 as ,i4   ,i      
forgot all about the sky4   ,no face3   
only the sight   ,of a sweepy garment1  
vast and white1   ,with a hem that ,i   
could recognize4   ,i felt terror1 no   
surprise3   ,my mind filled with the    
cataract1   ,at one bound1 of the mighty
 fact4   ,i remembered1 ,he did say     
,doubtless1 that1 to this world's end1  
,where two or three should meet and     
pray1   ,he would be in the midst1 their
 friend3   ,certainly ,he was there with
 them4   ,and my pulses leaped for joy  

,of the golden thought without alloy1   
,that ,i saw ,his very vesture's hem4   
,then rushed the blood back1 cold and   
clear1   ,with a fresh enhancing shiver 
of fear40  ,praying for forgiveness     
wherein he has sinned1 and prostrate in 
adoration before the form of ,christ1 he
 is 8caught up in the whirl and drift0  
of his vesture1 and carried along with  
him over the earth4  ,stopping at length
 at the entrance of ,st4 ,peter's in    
,rome1 he remains outside1 while the    
form disappears within4 ,he is able1    
however1 to see all that goes on1 in the
 crowded1 hushed interior4 ,it is high  
mass4 ,he has been carried at once from 
the little chapel to the opposite       
aesthetic pole4 ,from the entry1 where--
    8,the flame of the single tallow    
candle   ,in the cracked square lanthorn
 ,i stood under   ,shot its blue lip at 
me10  to--   8,this miraculous dome of  
,god--                 ,this colonnade  
,with arms wide open to embrace   ,the  
entry of the human race   ,to the breast

 of4444 what is it1 yon building1       
,ablaze in front1 all paint and gilding1
   ,with marble for brick1 and stones of
 price   ,for garniture of the edifice80
  to 8those fountains0--    8,growing up
 eternally   ,each to a musical         
water-tree1   ,whose blossoms drop1 a   
glittering boon1   ,before my eyes1 in  
the light of the moon1   ,to the granite
 lavers underneath20  from the singing  
of the chapel to the organ              
self-restrained1 that 8holds his breath 
and grovels latent10 while expecting the
 elevation of the ,host4 ,christ is     
within2 he is left without4 ,reflecting 
on the matter1 he thinks his ,lord would
 not require him to go in1 though he    
himself entered1 because there was a way
 to reach him there4 ,by-and-by1        
however1 his heart awakes and declares  
that ,love goes beyond error with them1 
and if the ,intellect be kept down1 yet 
,love is the oppressor2 so next time he 
resolves to enter and praise along with 
them4 ,the passage commencing1 8,oh1    

love of those first ,christian days60   
describing ,love's victory over         
,intellect1 is very fine4  ,again he is 
caught up and carried along as before4  
,this time halt is made at the door of a
 college in a ,german town1 in which the
 class-room of one of the professors is 
open for lecture this ,christmas ,eve4  
,it is1 intellectually considered1 the  
opposite pole to both the ,methodist    
chapel and the ,roman ,basilica4 ,the   
poet enters1 fearful of losing the      
society of 8any that call themselves his
 friends40 ,he describes the assembled  
company1 and the entrance of 8the       
hawk-nosed1 high-cheek-boned professor10
 of part of whose ,christmas ,eve's     
discourse he proceeds to give the       
substance4 ,the professor takes it for  
granted that 8plainly no such life was  
liveable10 and goes on to inquire what  
explanation of the phenomena of the life
 of ,christ it were best to adopt4 ,not 
that it mattered much1 8so the idea be  
left the same40 ,taking the popular     

story1 for convenience sake1 and        
separating all extraneous matter from   
it1 he found that ,christ was simply a  
good man1 with an honest1 true heart2   
whose disciples thought him divine2 and 
whose doctrine1 though quite mistaken by
 those who received and published it1   
8had yet a meaning quite as             
respectable40 ,here the poet takes      
advantage of a pause to leave him2      
reflecting that though the air may be   
poisoned by the sects1 yet here 8the    
critic leaves no air to poison40 ,his   
meditations and arguments following1 are
 among the most valuable passages in the
 book4 ,the professor1 notwithstanding  
the idea of ,christ has by him been     
exhausted of all that is peculiar to it1
 yet recommends him to the veneration   
and worship of his hearers1 8rather than
 all who went before him1 and all who   
ever followed after40 ,but why8 says the
 poet4 ,for his intellect1    8,which   
tells me simply what was told   7,if    
mere morality1 bereft   ,of the ,god in 

,christ1 be all that's left7            
,elsewhere by voices manifold80  with   
which must be combined the fact that    
this intellect of his did not save him  
from making the 8important stumble10 of 
saying that he and ,god were one4 8,but 
his followers misunderstood him10 says  
the objector4 ,perhaps so2 but 8the     
stumbling-block1 his speech1 who laid   
it80 ,well then1 is it on the score of  
his goodness that he should rule his    
race8                    8,you pledge   
,your fealty to such rule8 ,what1 all-- 
,from ,heavenly ,john and ,attic ,paul1 
,and that brave weather-battered ,peter1
   ,whose stout faith only stood        
completer   ,for buffets1 sinning to be 
pardoned1   ,as the more his hands      
hauled nets1 they hardened--   ,all1    
down to you1 the man of men1            
,professing here at ,gttingen1          
,compose ,christ's flock6 ,so1 you and  
,i   ,are sheep of a good man6 ,and     
why80  ,did ,christ invent goodness8 or 
did he only demonstrate that of which   

the common conscience was judge8        
8,i would decree   ,worship for such    
mere demonstration   ,and simple work of
 nomenclature1   ,only the day ,i       
praised1 not ,nature1   ,but ,harvey1   
for the circulation40  ,the worst man1  
says the poet1 knows more than the best 
man does4 ,god in ,christ appeared to   
men to help them to do1 to awaken the   
life within them4    8,morality to the  
uttermost1   ,supreme in ,christ as we  
all confess1   ,why need we prove would 
avail no jot   ,to make ,him ,god1 if   
,god he were not8   ,what is the point  
where ,himself lays stress8   ,does the 
precept run1 #8,believe in good1   ,in  
justice1 truth1 now understood   ,for   
the first time8'--or1 #8,believe in     
,,me1   ,who lived and died1 yet        
essentially   ,am ,lord of life'8       
,whoever can take   ,the same to his    
heart1 and for mere love's sake         
,conceive of the love1--that man obtains
   ,a new truth2 no conviction gains    
,of an old one only1 made intense   ,by 

a fresh appeal to his faded sense40  ,in
 this lies the most direct practical    
argument with regard to what is commonly
 called the ,divinity of ,christ4 ,here 
is a man whom those that magnify him the
 least confess to be a good man1 the    
best of men4 ,he says1 8,i and the      
,father are one40 ,will an earnest      
heart1 knowing this1 be likely to draw  
back1 or will it draw nearer to behold  
the great sight8 ,will not such a heart 
feel3 8,a good man like this would not  
have said so1 were it not so4 ,in all   
probability the great truth of ,god lies
 behind this veil40 ,the reality of     
,christ's nature is not to be proved by 
argument4 ,he must be beheld4 ,the      
manifestation of ,him must 8gravitate   
inwards0 on the soul4 ,it is by looking 
that one can know4 ,as a mathematical   
theorem is to be proved only by the     
demonstration of that theorem itself1   
not by talking about it2 so ,christ must
 prove himself to the human soul through
 being beheld4 ,the only proof of       

,christ's divinity is his humanity4     
,because his humanity is not            
comprehended1 his divinity is doubted2  
and while the former is uncomprehended1 
an assent to the latter is of little    
avail4 ,for a man to theorize           
theologically in any form1 while he has 
not so apprehended ,christ1 or to       
neglect the gazing on him for the       
attempt to substantiate to himself any  
form of belief respecting him1 is to    
bring on himself1 in a matter of divine 
import1 such errors as the expounders of
 nature in old time brought on          
themselves1 when they speculated on what
 a thing must be1 instead of observing  
what it was2 this must be having for its
 foundation not self-evident truth1 but 
notions whose chief strength lay in     
their preconception4 ,there are thoughts
 and feelings that cannot be called up  
in the mind by any power of will or     
force of imagination2 which1 being      
spiritual1 must arise in the soul when  
in its highest spiritual condition2 when

 the mind1 indeed1 like a smooth lake1  
reflects only heavenly images4 ,a       
steadfast regarding of ,him will produce
 this calm1 and ,his will be the        
heavenly form reflected from the mental 
depth4  ,but to return to the poem4 ,the
 fact that ,christ remains inside1 leads
 the poet to reflect1 in the spirit of  
,him who found all the good in men he   
could1 neglecting no point of contact   
which presented itself1 whether there   
was anything at this lecture with which 
he could sympathize2 and he finds that  
the heart of the professor does         
something to rescue him from the error  
of his brain4 ,in his brain1 even1 8if  
,love's dead there1 it has left a       
ghost40 ,for when the natural deduction 
from his argument would be that our     
faith    8,be swept forthwith to its    
natural dust-hole1--   ,he bids us1 when
 we least expect it1   ,take back our   
faith--if it be not just whole1   ,yet a
 pearl indeed1 as his tests affect it1  
,which fact pays the damage done        

rewardingly1   ,so1 prize we our dust   
and ashes accordingly60  ,love as well  
as learning being necessary to the      
understanding of the ,new ,testament1 it
 is to the poet matter of regret that   
8loveless learning0  should leave its   
proper work1 and make such havoc in that
 which belongs not to it4 ,but while he 
sits 8talking with his mind10 his mood  
begins to degenerate from sympathy with 
that which is good to indifference      
towards all forms1 and he feels inclined
 to rest quietly in the enjoyment of his
 own religious confidence1 and trouble  
himself in no wise about the faith of   
his neighbours2 for doubtless all are   
partakers of the central light1 though  
variously refracted by the varied       
translucency of the mental prism4444    
8#8,twas the horrible storm began       
afresh6   ,the black night caught me in 
his mesh1   ,whirled me up1 and flung me
 prone6   ,i was left on the            
college-step alone4   ,i looked1 and far
 there1 ever fleeting   ,far1 far away1 

the receding gesture1   ,and looming of 
the lessening vesture1   ,swept forward 
from my stupid hand1   ,while ,i watched
 my foolish heart expand   ,in the lazy 
glow of benevolence   ,o'er the various 
modes of man's belief4   ,i sprang up   
with fear's vehemence4   --,needs must  
there be one way1 our chief   ,best way 
of worship3 let me strive   ,to find it1
 and when found1 contrive   ,my fellows 
also take their share4   ,this          
constitutes my earthly care3   ,god's is
 above it and distinct60  ,the symbolism
 in the former part of this extract is  
grand4 ,as soon as he ceases to look    
practically on the phenomena with which 
he is surrounded1 he is enveloped in    
storm and darkness1 and sees only in the
 far distance the disappearing skirt of 
his ,lord's garment4 ,god's care is over
 all1 he goes on to say2 ,i must do my  
part4 ,if ,i look speculatively on the  
world1 there is nothing but dimness and 
mystery4 ,if ,i look practically on it1 
8,no mere mote's-breadth1 but teems     

immense   ,with witnessings of          
,providence40  ,and whether the world   
which ,i seek to help censures or       
praises me--that is nothing to me4 ,my  
life--how is it with me8    8,soul of   
mine1 hadst thou caught and held   ,by  
the hem of the vesture4444              
,and ,i caught   ,at the flying robe1   
and1 unrepelled1   ,was lapped again in 
its folds full-fraught   ,with warmth   
and wonder and delight1   ,god's mercy  
being infinite4   ,and scarce had the   
words escaped my tongue1   ,when1 at a  
passionate bound1 ,i sprung   ,out of   
the wandering world of rain1   ,into the
 little chapel again40  ,had he dreamed8
 how then could he report of the sermon 
and the preacher8 of which and of whom  
he proceeds to give a very external     
account4 ,but correcting himself--      
8,ha6 ,is ,god mocked1 as ,he asks8     
,shall ,i take on me to change his      
tasks1   ,and dare1 despatched to a     
river-head   ,for a simple draught of   
the element1   ,neglect the thing for   

which ,he sent1   ,and return with      
another thing instead6   ,saying 4444   
#8,because the water found   ,welling up
 from underground1   ,is mingled with   
the taints of earth1   ,while ,thou1 ,i 
know1 dost laugh at dearth1   ,and      
couldest1 at a word1 convulse   ,the    
world with the leap of its              
river-pulse1--   ,therefore ,i turned   
from the oozings muddy1   ,and bring    
thee a chalice ,i found1 instead4   ,see
 the brave veins in the breccia ruddy6  
,one would suppose that the marble bled4
   ,what matters the water8 ,a hope ,i  
have nursed1   ,that the waterless cup  
will quench my thirst4'   --,better have
 knelt at the poorest stream   ,that    
trickles in pain from the straitest     
rift6   ,for the less or the more is all
 ,god's gift1   ,who blocks up or breaks
 wide the granite seam4   ,and here1 is 
there water or not1 to drink80  ,he     
comes to the conclusion1 that the best  
for him is that mode of worship which   
partakes the least of human forms1 and  

brings him nearest to the spiritual2    
and1 while expressing good wishes for   
the ,pope and the professor--           
8,meantime1 in the still recurring fear 
,lest myself1 at unawares1 be found1    
,while attacking the choice of my       
neighbours round1   ,without my own     
made--,i choose here60  ,he therefore   
joins heartily in the hymn which is sung
 by the congregation of the little      
chapel at the close of their worship4   
,and this concludes the poem4  ,what is 
the central point from which this poem  
can be regarded8 ,it does not seem to be
 very hard to find4 ,novalis has said3  
8,die ,philosophie ist eigentlich       
,heimweh1 ein ,trieb berall zu ,hause zu
 sein40 7,philosophy is really          
home-sickness1 an impulse to be at home 
everywhere47 ,the life of a man here1 if
 life it be1 and not the vain image of  
what might be a life1 is a continual    
attempt to find his place1 his centre of
 recipiency1 and active agency4 ,he     
wants to know where he is1 and where he 

ought to be and can be2 for1 rightly    
considered1 the position a man ought to 
occupy is the only one he truly can     
occupy4 ,it is a climbing and striving  
to reach that point of vision where the 
multiplex crossings and apparent        
intertwistings of the lines of fact and 
feeling and duty shall manifest         
themselves as a regular and symmetrical 
design4 ,a contradiction1 or a thing    
unrelated1 is foreign and painful to    
him1 even as the rocky particle in the  
gelatinous substance of the oyster2 and1
 like the latter1 he can only rid       
himself of it by encasing it in the     
pearl-like enclosure of faith2 believing
 that hidden there lies the necessity   
for a higher theory of the universe than
 has yet been generated in his soul4    
,the quest for this home-centre1 in the 
man who has faith1 is calm and          
ceaseless2 in the man whose faith is    
weak1 it is stormy and intermittent4    
,unhappy is that man1 of necessity1     
whose perceptions are keener than his   

faith is strong4 ,everywhere ,nature    
herself is putting strange questions to 
him2 the human world is full of dismay  
and confusion2 his own conscience is    
bewildered by contradictory appearances2
 all which may well happen to the man   
whose eye is not yet single1 whose heart
 is not yet pure4 ,he is not at home2   
his soul is astray amid people of a     
strange speech and a stammering tongue4 
,but the faithful man is led onward2 in 
the stillness that his confidence       
produces arise the bright images of     
truth2 and visions of ,god1 which are   
only beheld in solitary places1 are     
granted to his soul4    8,o struggling  
with the darkness all the night1   ,and 
visited all night by troops of stars60  
,what is true of the whole1 is true of  
its parts4 ,in all the relations of     
life1 in all the parts of the great     
whole of existence1 the true man is ever
 seeking his home4 ,this poem seems to  
show us such a quest4 8,here ,i am in   
the midst of many who belong to the same

 family4 ,they differ in education1 in  
habits1 in forms of thought2 but they   
are called by the same name4 ,what      
position with regard to them am ,i to   
assume8 ,i am a ,christian2 how am ,i to
 live in relation to ,christians80 ,such
 seems to be something like the poet's  
thought4 ,what central position can he  
gain1 which1 while it answers best the  
necessities of his own soul with regard 
to ,god1 will enable him to feel himself
 connected with the whole ,christian    
world1 and to sympathize with all2 so   
that he may not be alone1 but one of the
 whole4 ,certainly the position         
necessary for both requirements is one  
and the same4 ,he that is isolated from 
his brethren1 loses one of the greatest 
helps to draw near to ,god4 ,now1 in    
this time1 which is so peculiarly       
transitional1 this is a question of no  
little import for all who1 while they   
gladly forsake old1 or rather modern1   
theories1 for what is to them a more    
full development of ,christianity as    

well as a return to the fountain-head1  
yet seek to be saved from the danger of 
losing sympathy with those who are      
content with what they are compelled to 
abandon4 ,seeing much in the common     
modes of thought and belief that is     
inconsistent with ,christianity1 and    
even opposed to it1 they yet cannot but 
see likewise in many of them a power of 
spiritual good2 which1 though not       
dependent on the peculiar mode1 is yet  
enveloped1 if not embodied1 in that     
mode4    8,ask1 else1 these ruins of    
humanity1   ,this flesh worn out to rags
 and tatters1   ,this soul at struggle  
with insanity1   ,who thence take       
comfort1 can ,i doubt1   ,which an      
empire gained1 were a loss without40    
,the love of ,god is the soul of        
,christianity4 ,christ is the body of   
that truth4 ,the love of ,god is the    
creating and redeeming1 the forming and 
satisfying power of the universe4 ,the  
love of ,god is that which kills evil   
and glorifies goodness4 ,it is the      

safety of the great whole4 ,it is the   
home-atmosphere of all life4 ,well does 
the poet of the 8,christmas ,eve0 say3--
    8,the loving worm within its clod1  
,were diviner than a loveless ,god      
,amid his worlds1 ,i will dare to say40 
,surely then1 inasmuch as man is made in
 the image of ,god nothing less than a  
love in the image of ,god's love1       
all-embracing1 quietly excusing1        
heartily commending1 can constitute the 
blessedness of man2 a love not          
insensible to that which is foreign to  
it1 but overcoming it with good4 ,where 
man loves in his kind1 even as ,god     
loves in ,his kind1 then man is saved1  
then he has reached the unseen and      
eternal4 ,but if1 besides the necessity 
to love that lies in a man1 there be    
likewise in the man whom he ought to    
love something in common with him1 then 
the law of love has increased force4 ,if
 that point of sympathy lies at the     
centre of the being of each1 and if     
these centres are brought into contact1 

then the circles of their being will be1
 if not coincident1 yet concentric4 ,we 
must wait patiently for the completion  
of ,god's great harmony1 and meantime   
love everywhere and as we can4  ,but the
 great lesson which this poem teaches1  
and which is taught more directly in the
 8,easter ,day0 7forming part of the    
same volume71 is that the business of a 
man's life is to be a ,christian4 ,a man
 has to do with ,god first2 in ,him only
 can he find the unity and harmony he   
seeks4 ,to be one with ,him is to be at 
the centre of things4 ,if one           
acknowledges that ,god has revealed     
himself in ,christ2 that ,god has       
recognized man as his family1 by        
appearing among them in their form2     
surely that very acknowledgment carries 
with it the admission that man's chief  
concern is with this revelation4 ,what  
does ,god say and mean1 teach and       
manifest1 herein8 ,if this world is     
,god's making1 and he is present in all 
nature2 if he rules all things and is   

present in all history2 if the soul of  
man is in his image1 with all its       
circles of thought and multiplicity of  
forms2 and if for man it be not enough  
to be rooted in ,god1 but he must       
likewise lay hold on ,god2 then surely  
no question1 in whatever direction1 can 
be truly answered1 save by him who      
stands at the side of ,christ4 ,the     
doings of ,god cannot be understood1    
save by him who has the mind of ,christ1
 which is the mind of ,god4 ,all things 
must be strange to one who sympathizes  
not with the thought of the ,maker1 who 
understands not the design of the       
,artist4 ,where is he to begin8 ,what   
light has he by which to classify8 ,how 
will he bring order out of this apparent
 confusion1 when the order is higher    
than his thought2 when the confusion to 
him is caused by the order's being      
greater than he can comprehend8 ,because
 he stands outside and not within1 he   
sees an entangled maze of forces1 where 
there is in truth an intertwining dance 

of harmony4 ,there is for no one any    
solution of the world's mystery1 or of  
any part of its mystery1 except he be   
able to say with our poet3--    8,i have
 looked to ,thee from the beginning1    
,straight up to ,thee through all the   
world1   ,which1 like an idle scroll1   
lay furled   ,to nothingness on either  
side3   ,and since the time ,thou wast  
descried1   ,spite of the weak heart1 so
 have ,i   ,lived ever1 and so fain     
would die1   ,living and dying1 ,thee   
before60  ,christianity is not the      
ornament1 or even complement1 of life2  
it is its necessity2 it is life itself  
glorified into ,god's ideal4  ,dr4      
,chalmers1 from considering the         
minuteness of the directions given to   
,moses for the making of the tabernacle1
 was led to think that he himself was   
wrong in attending too little to the    
8petite morale0 of dress4 ,will this be 
excuse enough for occupying a few       
sentences with the rhyming of this poem8
 ,certainly the rhymes of a poem form no

 small part of its artistic existence4  
,probably there is a deeper meaning in  
this part of the poetic art than has yet
 been made clear to poet's mind4 ,in    
this poem the rhymes have their share in
 its humorous charm4 ,the writer's power
 of using double and triple rhymes is   
remarkable1 and the effect is often     
pleasing1 even where they are used in   
the more solemn parts of the poem4 ,take
 the lines3--    8,no6 love which1 on   
earth1 amid all the shows of it1   ,has 
ever been seen the sole good of life in 
it1   ,the love1 ever growing there1    
spite of the strife in it1   ,shall     
arise1 made perfect1 from death's repose
 of it40  ,a poem is a thing not for the
 understanding or heart only1 but       
likewise for the ear2 or1 rather1 for   
the understanding and heart through the 
ear4 ,the best poem is best set forth   
when best read4 ,if1 then1 there be     
rhymes which1 when read aloud1 do1 by   
their composition of words1 prevent the 
understanding from laying hold on the   

separate words1 while the ear lays hold 
on the rhymes1 the perfection of the art
 must here be lost sight of1            
notwithstanding the completeness which  
the rhyming manifests on close          
examination4 ,for instance1 in 8equipt  
yours10  8,scriptures20 8,manchester10  
8haunches stir20 or 8affirm any10       
8,germany20 where two words rhyme with  
one word4 ,but there are very few of    
them that are objectionable on account  
of this difficulty and necessity of     
rapid analysis4  ,one of the most       
wonderful things in the poem is1 that so
 much of argument is expressed in a     
species of verse1 which one might be    
inclined1 at first sight1 to think the  
least fitted for embodying it4 ,but1 in 
fact1 the same amount of argument in any
 other kind of verse would1 in all      
likelihood1 have been intolerably dull  
as a work of art4 ,here the verse is    
full of life and vigour1 flagging never4
 ,where1 in several parts1 the exact    
meaning is difficult to reach1 this     

results chiefly from the dramatic       
rapidity and condensation of the        
thoughts4 ,the argumentative power is   
indeed wonderful2 the arguments         
themselves powerful in their simplicity1
 and embodied in words of admirable     
force4 ,the poem is full of pathos and  
humour2 full of beauty and grandeur1    
earnestness and truth4     ,,essays ,,on
 ,,some ,,of ,,the ,,forms ,,of         
,,literature   ,footnote3 8,essays on   
some of the ,forms of ,literature40 ,by 
,t4,t4 ,lynch1 ,author of 8,theophilus  
,trinal40  ,longmans4   ,schoppe1 the   
satiric chorus of ,jean ,paul's romance 
of ,titan1 makes his appearance at a    
certain masked ball1 carrying in front  
of him a glass case1 in which the ball  
is remasked1 repeated1 and again        
reflected in a mirror behind1 by a set  
of puppets1 ludicrously aping the apery 
of the courtiers1 whose whole life and  
outward manifestation was but a         
body-mask mechanically moved with the   
semblance of real life and action4 ,the 

court simulates reality4 ,the masks are 
a multiform mockery at their own        
unreality1 and as such are regarded by  
,schoppe1 who takes them off with the   
utmost ridicule in his masked           
puppet-show1 which1 with its reflection 
in the mirror1 is again indefinitely    
multiplied in the many-sided reflector  
of ,schoppe's1 or of ,richter's1 or of  
the reader's own imagination4 ,the      
successive retreating and beholding in  
this scene is suggested to the reviewer 
by the fact that the last of these      
essays by ,mr4 ,lynch is devoted in part
 to reviews4 ,so that the reviews review
 books1--,mr4 ,lynch reviews the        
reviews1 and the present ,reviewer finds
 himself 7somewhat presumptuously1 it   
may be7 attempting to review ,mr4       
,lynch4 ,in this1 however1 his office   
must be very different from that of     
,schoppe 7for there is a deeper and more
 real correspondence between the        
position of the showman and the reviewer
 than that outward resemblance which    

first caused the one to suggest the     
other74 ,the latter's office1 in the    
present instance1 was1 by mockery1 to   
destroy the false1 the very involution  
of the satire adding to the strength of 
the ridicule4 ,his glass case was simply
 a review uttered by shapes and wires   
instead of words and handwriting4 ,and  
the work of the true critic must        
sometimes be to condemn1 and1 as far as 
his strength can reach1 utterly to      
destroy the false1--scorching and       
withering its seeming beauty1 till it is
 reduced to its essence and original    
groundwork of dust and ashes4 ,it is    
only1 however1 when it wears the form of
 beauty which is the garment of truth1  
and so1 like the ,erl-maidens1 has power
 to bewitch1 that it is worth the notice
 and attack of the critic4 ,many forms  
of error1 perhaps most1 are better left 
alone to die of their own weakness1 for 
the galvanic battery of criticism only  
helps to perpetuate their ghastly life4 
,the highest work of the critic1        

however1 must surely be to direct       
attention to the true1 in whatever form 
it may have found utterance4 ,but on    
this let us hear ,mr4 ,lynch himself in 
the last of these four lectures which   
were delivered by him at the ,royal     
,institution1 ,manchester1 and are now  
before us in the form of a book3--      
8,the kritikos1 the discerner1 if he is 
ever saying to us1 ,this is not gold2   
and never1 ,this is2 is either very     
humbly useful1 or very perverse1 or very
 unfortunate4 ,this is not gold1 he     
says4 ,thank you1 we reply1 we perceived
 as much4 ,and this is not1 he adds4    
,true1 we answer1 but we see gold grains
 glittering out of its rude1 dark mass4 
,well1 at least1 this is not1 he        
proceeds4 ,perverse man6 we retort1 are 
you seeking what is not gold8 ,we are   
inquiring for what is1 and unfortunate  
indeed are we if1 born into a world of  
,nature1 and of ,spirit once so rich1 we
 are born but to find that it has spent 
or has lost all its wealth4 ,unhappy man

 would he be1 who1 walking his garden1  
should scent only the earthy savour of  
leaves dead or dying1 never perceiving1 
and that afar off1 the heavenly odour of
 roses fresh to-day from the ,maker's   
hands4 ,the discerning by spiritual     
aroma may lead to discernment by the    
eye1 and to that careful scrutiny1 and  
thence greater knowledge1 of which the  
eye is instrument and minister40  ,and  
again3--  8,the critic criticized1 if   
dealt with in the worst fashion of his  
own class1 must be pronounced a mere    
monster1 #8seeking whom he may devour2' 
and1 therefore1 to be hunted and slain  
as speedily as possible1 and stuffed for
 the museum1 where he may be regarded   
with due horror1 but in safety4 ,but if 
dealt with after the best fashion of his
 class1 a very honourable and beneficent
 office is assigned him1 and he is      
warned only--though zealously--against  
its perversions4 ,a judicial chair in   
the kingdom of human thought1 filled by 
a man of true integrity1                

comprehensiveness1 and delicacy of      
spirit1 is a seat of terror and praise1 
whose powers are at once most fostering 
to whatever is good1 most repressive of 
whatever is evil4444 ,the critic1 in his
 office of censurer1 has need so much to
 controvert1 expose1 and punish1 because
 of the abundance of literary faults2   
and as there is a right and a wrong side
 in warfare1 so there will be in        
criticism4 ,and as when soldiers are    
numerous1 there will be not a few who   
are only tolerable1 if even that1 so of 
critics4 ,but then the critic is more   
than the censurer2 and in his higher and
 happier aspect appears before us and   
serves us1 as the discoverer1 the       
vindicator1 and the eulogist of         
excellence40  ,but resisting the        
temptation to quote further from ,mr4   
,lynch's book on this matter of         
,criticism1 which seemed the natural    
point of contact by which the ,reviewer 
could lay hold on the book1 he would    
pass on with the remark that his duty in

 the present instance is of the nobler  
and better sort--nobler and better1 that
 is1 with regard to the object1 for duty
 in the man remains ever the            
same--namely1 the exposition of         
excellence1 and not of its opposite4    
,mr4 ,lynch is a man of true insight and
 large heart1 who has already done good 
in the world1 and will do more2         
although1 possibly1 he belongs rather to
 the last class of writers described by 
himself1 in the extract ,i am about to  
give from this same essay1 than to any  
of the preceding3--  8,some of the best 
books are written avowedly1 or with     
evident consciousness of the fact1 for  
the select public that is constituted by
 minds of the deeper class1 or minds the
 more advanced of their time4 ,such     
books may have but a restricted         
circulation and limited esteem in their 
own day1 and may afterwards extend both 
their fame and the circle of their      
readers4 ,others of the best books1     
written with a pathos and a power that  

may be universally felt1 appeal at once 
to the common humanity of the world1 and
 get a response marvellously strong and 
immediate4 ,an ordinary human eye and   
heart1 whose glances are true1 whose    
pulses healthy1 will fit us to say of   
much that we read--,this is good1 that  
is poor4 ,but only the educated eye and 
the experienced heart will fit us to    
judge of what relates to matters veiled 
from ordinary observation1 and belonging
 to the profounder region of human      
thought and emotion4 ,powers1 however1  
that the few only possess1 may be       
required to paint what everybody can    
see1 so that everybody shall say1 ,how  
beautiful6 how like6 ,and powers        
adequate to do this in the finest manner
 will be often adequate to do much      
more--may produce1 indeed1 books or     
pictures1 whose singular merit only the 
few shall perceive1 and the many for    
awhile deny1 and books or pictures      
which1 while they give an immediate and 
pure pleasure to the common eye1 shall  

give a far fuller and finer pleasure to 
that eye that is the organ of a deeper  
and more cultivated soul4 ,there are1   
too1 men of peculiar powers1 rare and   
fine1 who can never hope to please the  
large public1 at least of their own age1
 but whose writings are a heart's ease  
and heart's joy to the select few1 and  
serve such as a cup of heavenly comfort 
for the earth's journey1 and a lamp of  
heavenly light for the shadows of the   
way40  ,one other extract from the      
general remarks on ,books in this essay1
 and we will turn to another3--  8,in   
all our estimation of the various       
qualities of books1 if it be true that  
our reading assists our life1 it is true
 also that our life assists our reading4
 ,if we let our spirit talk to us in    
undistracted moments--if we commune with
 friendly1 serious ,nature1 face to     
face1 often--if we pursue honourable    
aims in a steady progress--if we learn  
how a man's best work falls below his   
thought1 yet how still his failure      

prompts a tenderer love of his          
thought--if we live in sincere1 frank   
relations with some few friends1 joying 
in their joy1 hearing the tale and      
sharing the pain of their grief1 and in 
frequent interchange of honest1         
household sensibility--if we look about 
us on character1 marking distinctly what
 we can see1 and feeling the prompting  
of a hundred questions concerning what  
is out of our ken3--if we live thus1 we 
shall be good readers and critics of    
books1 and improving ones40  ,the second
 and third of these essays are on       
,biography and ,fiction respectively and
 principally2 treating1 however1 of     
collateral subjects as well4 ,deep is   
the relation between the life shadowed  
forth in a biography1 and the life in a 
man's brain which he shadows forth in a 
fiction--when that fiction is of the    
highest order1 and written in love1 is  
beheld even by the writer himself with  
reverence4 ,delightful1 surely1 it must 
be2 yes1 awful too1 to read to-day the  

embodiment of a man's noblest thought1  
to follow the hero of his creation      
through his temptations1 contests1 and  
victories1 in a world which likewise    
is--    8,all made out of the carver's  
brain20  and to-morrow to read the      
biography of this same writer4 ,what of 
his own ideal has he realized8 ,where   
can the life-fountain be detected within
 him which found issue to the world's   
light and air1 in this ideal self8      
,shall ,god's fiction1 which is man's   
reality1 fall short of man's fiction8   
,shall a man be less than what he can   
conceive and utter8 ,surely it will not1
 cannot end thus4 ,if a man live at all 
in harmony with the great laws of       
being--if he will permit the working out
 of ,god's idea in him1 he must one day 
arrive at something greater than what   
now he can project and behold4 ,yet1 in 
biography1 we do not so often find      
traces of those struggles depicted in   
the loftier fiction4 ,one reason may be 
that the contest is often entirely      

within1 and so a man may have won his   
spiritual freedom without any outward   
token directly significant of the       
victory2 except1 if he be an artist1    
such expression as it finds in fiction1 
whether the fiction be in marble1 or in 
sweet harmonies1 or in ink4 ,nor can we 
determine the true significance of any  
living act2 for being ourselves within  
the compass of the life-mystery1 we     
cannot hold it at arm's length from us  
and look at its lines of configuration4 
,nor of a life can we in any measure    
determine the success by what we behold 
of it4 ,it is to us at best but a       
truncated spire1 whose want of          
completion may be the greater because of
 the breadth of its base1 and its slow  
taper1 indicating the lofty height to   
which it is intended to aspire4 ,the    
idea of our own life is more than we can
 embrace4 ,it is not ours1 but ,god's1  
and fades away into the infinite4 ,our  
comprehension is finite2 we ourselves   
infinite4 ,we can only trust in ,god and

 do the truth2 then1 and then only1 is  
our life safe1 and sure both of         
continuance and development4  ,but the  
reviewer perhaps too often merely steals
 his author's text and writes upon it2  
or1 like a man who lies in bed thinking 
about a dream till its folds enwrap him 
and he sinks into the midst of its      
visions1 he forgets his position of     
beholding1 and passes from observation  
into spontaneous utterance4 ,what says  
our author about 8biography1            
autobiography1 and history80 ,this      
lecture has pleased the reviewer most of
 the four4 ,reading it in a lonely      
place1 under a tree1 with wide fields   
and slopes around1 it produced on his   
mind the two effects which perhaps ,mr4 
,lynch would most wish it should        
produce--namely1 first1 a longing to    
lead a more true and noble life2 and1   
secondly1 a desire to read more         
biography4 ,nor can he but hope that it 
must produce the same effect on every   
earnest reader1 on every one whose own  

biography would not be altogether a     
blank in what regards the individual    
will and spiritual aim4  8,in meditative
 hours1 when we blend despair of ourself
 with complaint of the world1 the       
biography of a man successful in this   
great business of living is as the visit
 of an angel sent to strengthen us4     
,give the soldier his sword1 the farmer 
his plough1 the carpenter his hammer and
 nails1 the manufacturer his machines1  
the merchant his stores1 and the scholar
 his books2 these are but implements2   
the man is more than his work or tools4 
,how far has he fulfilled the law of his
 being1 and attained its desire8 ,is his
 life a whole2 the days as threads and  
as touches2 the life1 the well-woven    
garment1 the well-painted picture8      
,which of two sacrifices has he         
offered--the one so acceptable to the   
powers of dark worlds1 the other so     
acceptable to powers of bright          
ones--that of soul to body1 or that of  
body to soul8 ,has he slain what was    

holiest in him to obtain gifts from     
,fashion or ,mammon8 ,or has he1 in days
 so arduous1 so assiduous1 that they are
 like a noble army of martyrs1 made     
burnt-offering of what was secondary1   
throwing into the flames the salt of    
true moral energy and the incense of    
cordial affections8 ,we want the work to
 show us by its parts1 its mass1 its    
form1 the qualities of the man1 and to  
see that the man is perfected through   
his work as well as the work finished by
 his effort40  ,perhaps the highest     
moral height which a man can reach1 and 
at the same time the most difficult of  
attainment1 is the willingness to be    
nothing relatively1 so that he attain   
that positive excellence which the      
original conditions of his being render 
not merely possible1 but imperative4 ,it
 is nothing to a man to be greater or   
less than another--to be esteemed or    
otherwise by the public or private world
 in which he moves4 ,does he1 or does he
 not1 behold1 and love1 and live1 the   

unchangeable1 the essential1 the divine8
 ,this he can only do according as ,god 
hath made him4 ,he can behold and       
understand ,god in the least degree1 as 
well as in the greatest1 only by the    
godlike within him2 and he that loves   
thus the good and great1 has no room1 no
 thought1 no necessity for comparison   
and difference4 ,the truth satisfies    
him4 ,he lives in its absoluteness4 ,god
 makes the glow-worm as well as the     
star2 the light in both is divine4 ,if  
mine be an earth-star to gladden the    
wayside1 ,i must cultivate humbly and   
rejoicingly its green earth-glow1 and   
not seek to blanch it to the whiteness  
of the stars that lie in the fields of  
blue4 ,for to deny ,god in my own being 
is to cease to behold him in any4 ,god  
and man can meet only by the man's      
becoming that which ,god meant him to   
be4 ,then he enters into the house of   
life1 which is greater than the house of
 fame4 ,it is better to be a child in a 
green field than a knight of many orders

 in a state ceremonial4  8,one biography
 may help conjecture or satisfy reason  
concerning the story of a thousand      
unrecorded lives4 ,and how few even of  
the deserving among the multitude can   
deserve1 as #8dear sons of memory1' to  
be shrined in the public heart4 ,few of 
us die unwept1 but most of us unwritten4
 ,we shall find a grave--less certainly 
a tombstone--and with much less         
likelihood a biographer4 ,those #8bright
 particular' stars that at evening look 
towards us from afar1 yet still are     
individual in the distance1 are at      
clearest times but about a thousand2 but
 the milky lustre that runs through mid 
heaven is composed of a million million 
lights1 which are not the less separate 
because seen undistinguishably4         
,absorbed1 not lost1 in the multitude of
 the unrecorded1 our private dear ones  
make part in this mild1 blissful shining
 of the #8general assembly1' the great  
congregation of the skies4 ,thus the    
past is aglow with the unwritten1 the   

nameless4 ,the leaders1 sons of fame1   
conspicuous in lustre1 eminent in place2
 these are the few1 whose great         
individuality burns with distinct1      
starry light through the dark of ages4  
,such stars1 without the starry way1    
would not teach us the vastness of      
heaven2 and the #8way1' without these1  
were not sufficient to gladden and      
glorify the night with pomp of          
,hierarchical ,ascents of ,domination40 
,there are many passages in this essay  
with which the reviewer would be glad to
 enrich his notice of the book1 but     
limitation of space1 and perhaps justice
 to the essay itself1 which ought to be 
read in its own completeness1 forbid4   
,mr4 ,lynch looks to the heart of the   
matter1 and makes one put the           
question--8,would not a biography       
written by ,mr4 ,lynch himself be a     
valuable addition to this kind of       
literature80 ,his would not be an       
interesting account of outward events   
and relationships and progress1 nor even

 a succession of revelations of inward  
conditions1 but we should expect to find
 ourselves elevated by him to a point of
 view from which the life of the man    
would assume an artistic individuality1 
as it were an isolation of existence2   
for the supposed author could not choose
 for his regard any biography for which 
this would be impossible2 or in which   
the reticulated nerves of purpose did   
not combine the whole1 with more or less
 of success1 into a true and remarkable 
unity4 ,one passage more from this      
essay1--  8,biography1 then1 makes life 
known to us as more wealthy in          
character1 and much more remarkable in  
its every-day stories1 than we had      
deemed it4 ,another good it does us is  
this4 ,it introduces us to some of our  
most agreeable and stimulative          
friendships4 ,people may be more        
beneficially intimate with one they     
never saw than even with a neighbour or 
brother4 ,many a solitary1 puzzled1     
incommunicative person1 has found       

society provided1 his riddle read1 and  
his heart's secret1 that longed and     
strove for utterance1 outspoken for him 
in a biography4 ,and both a love purer  
than any yet entertained may be         
originated1 and a pure but ungratified  
love already existing1 find an object1  
by the visit of a biography4 ,in actual 
life you see your friend to-day1 and    
will see him again to-morrow or next    
year2 but in the dear book1 you have    
your friend and all his experiences at  
once and ever4 ,he is with you wholly1  
and may be with you at any time4 ,he    
lives for you1 and has already died for 
you1 to give finish to the meaning1     
fulness1 and sanctity1 to the comfort of
 his days4 ,he is mysteriously above as 
well as before you1 by this fact1 that  
he has died4 ,thus your intimate is your
 superior1 your solace1 but your        
support1 too1 and an example of the     
victory to which he calls you4 ,his end1
 or her end1 is our own in view1 and the
 flagging spirit revives4 ,we see the   

goal1 and gird our loins anew for the   
race4 ,or1 speaking of things minor1    
there is fresh prospect of the game1    
there is companionship in the hunt1 and 
spirit for the winning4 ,such biography1
 too1 is a mirror in which we see       
ourselves2 and we see that we may trim  
or adorn1 or that the plain signs of our
 deficient health or ill-ruled temper   
may set us to look for1 and to use the  
means of improvement4 ,but such a mirror
 is as a water one2 in which first you  
may see your face1 and which then       
becomes for you a bath to wash away the 
stains you see1 and to offer its pure1  
cool stream as a restorative and        
cosmetic for your wrinkles and pallors4 
,and what a pleasure there will be      
sometimes as we peruse a biography1 in  
finding another who is so like          
ourself--saying the same things1 feeling
 the same dreads1 and shames1 and       
flutterings2 hampered and harassed much 
as poor self is4 ,then1 the escapes of  
such a friend give us hope of           

deliverance for ourself2 and his better1
 or if not better1 yet rewarded1        
patience1 freshens our eye and sinews1  
and puts a staff into our hand4 ,and    
certain seals of impossibility that we  
had put on this stone1 and on that1     
beneath which our hopes lay buried1 are 
by this biography1 as by a visiting     
angel1 effectually broken1 and our hopes
 arise again4 ,our view of life becomes 
more complete because we see the whole  
of his1 or of hers4 ,we view life1 too1 
in a more composed1 tender way4         
,wavering faith1 in its chosen          
determining principles1 is confirmed4   
,in quiet comparison of ourselves with  
one of our own class1 or one who has    
made the mark for which we are striving1
 we are shamed to have done no better1  
and stirred to attempt former things    
again1 or fresh ones in a stronger and  
more patient spirit40  ,it is1 indeed1  
well with him who has found a friend    
whose spirit touches his own and        
illuminates it4    8,i missed him when  

the sun began to bend2   ,i found him   
not when ,i had lost his rim2   ,with   
many tears ,i went in search of him1    
,climbing high mountains which did still
 ascend1   ,and gave me echoes when ,i  
called my friend2   ,through cities vast
 and charnel-houses grim1   ,and high   
cathedrals where the light was dim2     
,through books1 and arts1 and works     
without an end--   ,but found him not1  
the friend whom ,i had lost4   ,and yet 
,i found him1 as ,i found the lark1   ,a
 sound in fields ,i heard but could not 
mark2   ,i found him nearest when ,i    
missed him most1   ,i found him in my   
heart1 a life in frost1   ,a light ,i   
knew not till my soul was dark40  ,next 
to possessing a true1 wise1 and         
victorious friend seated by your        
fireside1 it is blessed to have the     
spirit of such a friend embodied--for   
spirit can assume any embodiment--on    
your bookshelves4 ,but in the latter    
case the friendship is all on one side4 
,for full friendship your friend must   

love you1 and know that you love him4   
,surely these biographies are not merely
 spiritual links connecting us in the   
truest manner with past times and       
vanished minds1 and thus producing      
strong half friendships4 ,are they not  
likewise links connecting us with a     
future1 wherein these souls shall dawn  
upon ours1 rising again from the death  
of the past into the life of our        
knowledge and love8 ,are not these      
biographies letters of introduction1    
forwarded1 but not yet followed by him  
whom they introduce1 for whose step we  
listen1 and whose voice we long to hear2
 and whom we shall yet meet somewhere in
 the ,infinite8 ,shall ,i not one day1  
8somewhere1 somehow10 clasp the large   
hand of ,novalis1 and1 gazing on his    
face1 compare his features with those of
 ,saint ,john8  ,the essay on light     
literature must be left to the          
spontaneous appreciation of those who   
are already acquainted with this book1  
or who may be induced1 by the           

representations here made1 to become    
acquainted with it4 ,before proceeding  
to notice the first essay in the little 
volume1 namely1 that on ,poetry1 its    
subject suggests the fact of the        
publication of a second edition of the  
,memorials of ,theophilus ,trinal1 by   
the same author1 a portion of which     
consists of interspersed poems4 ,these  
are of true poetic worth2 and although  
in some cases wanting in rhythmic       
melody1 yet in most of these cases they 
possess a wild and peculiar rhythm of   
their own4 ,the reviewer knows of some  
whose hearts this book has made glad1   
and doubtless there are many such4  ,the
 essay on ,poetry is itself poetic      
throughout in its expression4 ,and how  
else shall ,poetry be described than by 
,poetry8 ,what form shall embrace and   
define the highest8 ,must it not be     
self-descriptive as self-existent8 ,for 
what man is to this planet1 what the eye
 is to man himself1 ,poetry is to       
,literature4 ,yet one can hardly help   

wishing that the poetic forms in this   
,essay were fewer and less minute1 and  
the whole a little more scientific2     
though it is a question how far we have 
a right to ask for this4 ,as you open   
it1 however1 the pages seem absolutely  
to sparkle1 as if strewn with diamond   
sparks4 ,it is no dull1 metallic1       
surface lustre1 but a shining from      
within1 as well as from the superficies4
 ,still one cannot deny that fancy is   
too prominent in ,mr4 ,lynch's writings4
 ,it is true that his ,fancy is the     
fairy attendant on his ,imagination1    
which latter uses the former for her own
 higher ends2 and that there is little  
or no mere fancy to be found in his     
books2 for if you look below the        
surface-form you find a truth4 ,but it  
were to be desired that the ,truth      
clothed herself always in the living    
forms of ,imagination1 and thus walked  
forth amongst her worshippers1 looking  
on them from living eyes1 rather than   
that she should show herself through the

 windows of fancy4 ,sometimes there may 
be an offence against taste1 as in page 
#bj2 sometimes an image may be expanded 
too much1 and sometimes the very        
exuberance of imaginative fancy 7if the 
combination be correct7 may lead to an  
association of images that suggests     
incongruity4 ,still the essay is        
abundantly beautiful and true4 ,the     
poetical quotations are not isolated1 or
 exposed to view as specimens1 but are  
worked into the web of the prose like   
the flowers in the damask1 and do their 
part in the evolution of the continuous 
thought4  8,if poetry1 as light from the
 heart of ,god1 is for our heart1 that  
we may brighten and distinguish         
individual things2 if it is to          
transfigure for us the round1 dusk world
 as by an inner radiance2 if it is to   
present human life and history as       
,rembrandt pictures1 in which darkness  
serves and glorifies light2 if1 like    
light1 formless in its essence1 all     
things shapen towards the perfection of 

their forms under its influence2 if1    
entering as through crevices in single  
beams1 it makes dimmest places cheerful 
and sacred with its golden touch3 then  
must the heart of the ,poet in which    
this true light shineth be as a hospice 
on the mountain pathways of the world1  
and his verse must be the lamp seen from
 far that burns to tell us where bread  
and shelter1 drink1 fire1 and           
companionship1 may be found2 and he     
himself should have the mountaineer's   
hardiness and resolution4 ,from the     
heart as source1 to the heart in        
influence1 ,poetry comes4 ,the inward1  
the upward1 and the onward1 whether we  
speak of an individual or a nation1 may 
not be separated in our consideration4  
,deep and sacred imaginative meditations
 are needed for the true earthward as   
well as for the heavenward progress of  
men and peoples4 ,and ,poetry1 whether  
old or new1 streaming from the heart    
moved by the powerful spirit of love1   
has influence on the heart public and   

individual1 and thence on the manners1  
laws1 and institutions of nations4 ,if  
,poesy visit the length and breadth of a
 country after years unfruitfully dull1 
coming like a showery fertilizing wind  
after drought1 the corners and the      
valley-hidings are visited too1 and     
these perhaps she now visits first1 as  
these sometimes she has visited only4   
,for miles and for miles1 the public    
corn1 the bread of the nation's life1 is
 bettered2 and in our own endeared spot1
 the roses1 delight of our individual   
eye and sense1 yield us more            
prosperingly their colour and their     
fragrance4 ,for the universal sunshine  
which brightens a thousand cities1      
beautifies ten thousand homesteads1 and 
rejoices ten times ten thousand hearts4 
,and as rains in the mid season renew   
for awhile the faded greenness of       
spring2 and trees in fervent summers1   
when their foliage has deepened or fully
 fixed its hue1 bedeck themselves       
through the fervency with bright        

midsummer shoots2 so1 by ,poetry are the
 youthful hues of the soul renewed1 and 
truths that have long stood             
full-foliaged in our minds1 are by its  
fine influences empowered to put forth  
fresh shoots4 ,thus age1 which is a     
necessity for the body1 may be warded   
off as a disease from the soul1 and we  
may be like the old man in ,chaucer1 who
 had nothing hoary about him but his    
hairs--    8#8,though ,i be hoor ,i fare
 as doth a tree   ,that blosmeth er the 
fruit ywoxen be1   ,the blosmy tree n'  
is neither drie ne ded3   ,i feel me    
nowhere hoor1 but on my head4   ,min    
herte and all my limmes ben as grene    
,as laurel through the yere is for to   
sene4'0  ,hear our author again as to   
the calling of the poet3--  8,to unite  
earthly love and celestial--#8true to   
the kindred points of heaven and home2' 
to reconcile time and eternity2 to draw 
presage of joy's victory from the       
delight of the secret honey dropping    
from the clefts of rocky sorrow2 to     

harmonize our instinctive longings for  
the definite and the infinite1 in the   
ideal ,perfect2 to read creation as a   
human book of the heart1 both plain and 
mystical1 and divinely written3 such is 
the office fulfilled by best-loved      
poets4 ,their ladder of celestial ascent
 must be fixed on its base1 earth1 if   
its top is to securely rest on heaven40 
,beautifully1 too1 does he describe the 
birth of ,poetry2 though one may doubt  
its correctness1 at least if attributed 
to the highest kind of poetry4  8,when  
words of felt truth were first spoken by
 the first pair1 in love of their       
garden1 their ,god1 and one another1 and
 these words were with joyful surprise  
felt to be in their form and glow       
answerable to the happy thought uttered2
 then ,poetry sprang4 ,and when the     
first ,father and first ,mother1        
settling their soul upon its thought1   
found that thought brighten2 and when   
from it1 as thus they mused1 like       
branchlets from a branch1 or flowerets  

from their bud1 other thoughts came1    
ranging themselves by the exerted1 yet  
painlessly exerted1 power of the soul1  
in an order felt to be beautiful1 and of
 a sound pleasant in utterance to ear   
and soul2 being withal1 through the     
sweetness of their impression on the    
heart1 fixed for memory's frequentest   
recurrence2 then was the world's first  
poem composed1 and in the joyful flutter
 of a heart that had thus become a      
maker1 the maker of a #8thing of        
beauty1' like in beauty even unto ,god's
 heaven1 and trees1 and flowers1 the    
secret of ,poesy shone tremulously      
forth40  ,whether this be so or not1 the
 highest poetic feeling of which we are 
now conscious springs not from the      
beholding of perfected beauty1 but from 
the mute sympathy which the creation    
with all its children manifests with us 
in the groaning and travailing which    
looketh for the sonship4 ,because of our
 need and aspiration1 the snowdrop gives
 birth in our hearts to a loftier       

spiritual and poetic feeling1 than the  
rose most complete in form1 colour1 and 
odour4 ,the rose is of ,paradise--the   
snowdrop is of the striving1 hoping1    
longing ,earth4 ,perhaps our highest    
poetry is the expression of our         
aspirations in the sympathetic forms of 
visible nature4 ,nor is this merely a   
longing for a restored ,paradise2 for   
even in the ordinary history of men1 no 
man or woman that has fallen can be     
restored to the position formerly       
occupied4 ,such must rise to a yet      
higher place1 whence they can behold    
their former standing far beneath their 
feet4 ,they must be restored by         
attaining something better than they    
ever possessed before1 or not at all4   
,if the law be a weariness1 we must     
escape it by being filled with the      
spirit1 for not otherwise can we fulfil 
the law than by being above the law4    
,there is for us no escape1 save as the 
,poet counsels us3--    8,is thy strait 
horizon dreary8   ,is thy foolish fancy 

chill8   ,change the feet that have     
grown weary1   ,for the wings that never
 will4   ,burst the flesh and live the  
spirit2   ,haunt the beautiful and far2 
,thou hast all things to inherit1   ,and
 a soul for every star40  ,but the      
,reviewer must hasten to take leave1    
though unwillingly1 of this pleasing1   
earnest1 and profitable book4 ,perhaps  
it could be wished that the writer      
helped his readers a little more into   
the channel of his thought2 made it     
easier for them to see the direction in 
which he is leading them2 called out to 
them1 8,come up hither10 before he said1
 8,i will show you a thing40 ,but the   
,reviewer says this with deference2 and 
takes his leave with the hope that ,mr4 
,lynch will be listened to for two good 
reasons3 first1 that he speaks the      
truth2 last1 that he has already        
suffered for the ,truth's sake4         
,,the ,,history ,,and ,,heroes ,,of     
,,medicine4   ,footnote3 ,by ,j4        
,rutherfurd ,russell1 ,m4,d4  ,in this  

volume1 ,dr4 ,russell has not merely    
aimed at the production of a book that  
might be serviceable to the ,faculty1 by
 which the history of its own art is not
 at all sufficiently studied1 but has   
aspired to the far more difficult       
success of writing a history of medicine
 which shall be readable to all who care
 for true history--that history1 namely1
 in which not merely growth and change  
are represented1 but the secret supplies
 and influences as well1 which minister 
to the one and occasion the other4 ,if  
the difficulty has been greater         
7although with his evidently wide       
sympathies and keen insight into        
humanity we doubt if it has71 the       
success is the more honourable2 for a   
success it certainly is4 ,the partially 
biographical plan on which he has       
constructed his work has no doubt aided 
in the accomplishment of this purpose2  
for it is much easier to present the    
subject in its human relations1 when its
 history is given in connexion with the 

lives of those who were most immediately
 associated with it4 ,but it would be a 
great mistake to conclude from this1    
that it is the less a history of the art
 itself2 for no art or science has life 
in itself1 apart from the minds which   
foresee1 discover1 and verify it4       
,whatever point in its progress it may  
have reached1 it will there remain until
 a new man appears1 whose new questions 
shall illicit new replies from          
nature--replies which are the essential 
food of the science1 by which it lives1 
grows1 and makes itself a history4  ,nor
 must our readers suppose that because  
the book is readable1 it is therefore   
slight1 either in material or           
construction4 ,much reading and research
 have provided the material1 while real 
thought and argument have superintended 
the construction4 ,nor is it by any     
means without the adornment that a      
poetic temperament and a keen sense of  
humour can supply4  ,naturally1 the     
central life in the book is that of     

,lord ,bacon1 the man who brought out of
 his treasures things both new and old4 
,up to him the story gradually leads    
from the prehistoric times of           
,aesculapius1 the pathway first becoming
 plainly visible in the life and labours
 of ,hippocrates4 ,his fine intellect   
and powers of acute observation afforded
 the material necessary for the making  
of a true physician4 ,the ,greek mind1  
partly1 perhaps1 from its artistic      
tendencies1 seems to have been          
peculiarly impatient of incomplete      
forms1 and therefore1 to have much      
preferred the construction of a theory  
from the most shadowy material1 to the  
patient experiment and investigation    
necessary for the procuring of the real 
substance2 and ,hippocrates1 not knowing
 how to advance to a theory by rational 
experiment1 and too honest to invent    
one1 assumes the traditional theories1  
founded on the vaguest and most         
obtrusive generalizations4 ,those which 
his experience taught him to reject1    

were adopted and maintained by ,galen   
and all who followed him for centuries1 
the chief instance of progress being    
only the substitution by the ,arabians  
of some of the milder medicines now in  
use1 for the terrible and often fatal   
drugs employed by the ,greek and ,roman 
physicians4 ,the fanciful classification
 of diseases into four kinds--hot1 cold1
 moist and dry1 with the corresponding  
arbitrary classification of remedies to 
be administered by contraries1 continued
 to be the only recognized theory of    
medicine for many centuries after the   
,christian era4  ,but ,lord ,bacon1     
amongst other branches of knowledge     
which he considers ill-followed1 makes  
especial mention of medicine1 which he  
would submit to the same rules of       
observation and experiment laid down by 
him for the advancement of learning in  
general4 ,with regard to it1 as with    
regard to the discovery of all the      
higher laws of nature1 he considers     
8that men have made too untimely a      

departure1 and too remote a recess from 
particulars40 ,men have hurried to      
conclusions1 and then argued from them  
as from facts4 ,therefore let us have no
 traditional theories1 and make none for
 ourselves but such as are revealed in  
the form of laws to the patient         
investigator1 who has 8straightened and 
held fast ,proteus1 that he might be    
compelled to change his shapes10 and so 
reveal his nature4 ,hence one of the    
aspects in which ,lord ,bacon was       
compelled to appear was that of a       
destroyer of what preceded4 ,in this he 
resembled ,cardan and ,paracelsus who   
went before him1 and who like him pulled
 down1 but could not1 like him1 build   
up4 ,he resembled them1 however1 in the 
possession of another element of        
character1 namely1 that poetic          
imagination which looks abroad into the 
regions of possibilities1 and foresees  
or invents4 ,but in the case of the     
charlatan1 the vaguest suggestions of   
his mind in its favourite mood1 is      

adopted as a theory all but proved1 if  
not as a direct revelation to the       
favoured individual2 while the true     
thinker seeks but an hypothesis         
corresponding in some measure to facts  
already discovered1 in order that he may
 have the suggestion of new experiments 
and investigations in the course of his 
attempts to verify or disprove the      
hypothesis4 ,lord ,bacon considered     
hypothesis invaluable in the discovery  
of truth1 but he only used it as a board
 upon which to write his questions to   
nature2 or1 to use another figure1      
hypothesis with him is as the next      
stepping-stone in the swollen river1    
which he supposes to be here or there1  
and so feels for with his staff4 ,but it
 must be proved before it be regarded as
 a law1 and greatly corroborated before 
it be even adopted as a theory4 ,cardan 
and ,paracelsus were destroyers and     
mystics only2 they destroyed on the     
earth that they might build in the air3 
,lord ,bacon united both characters in  

the philosopher4 ,he looked abroad into 
the regions of the unknown1 whence all  
knowledge comes2 he called wonder the   
seed of knowledge2 but he would build   
nowhere but on the earth--on the firm   
land of ascertained truth4 ,that which  
kept him right was his practical        
humanity4 ,it was for the sake of       
delivering men from the ills of life1 by
 discovering the laws of the elements   
amidst which that life must be led1 that
 he laboured and thought4 ,this object  
kept him true1 made him able to discover
 the very laws of discovery2 brought him
 so far into rapport with the heart of  
nature herself1 that1 like a physical   
prophet1 his seeing could outspeed his  
knowing1 and behold a law--dimly1 it is 
true1 but yet behold it--long before his
 intellect1 which had to build bridges  
and find straw to make the bricks1 could
 dare to affirm its approach to the same
 conclusion4 ,truth to humanity made him
 true to fact2 and truth to fact made   
him true in theory4  ,it was in this    

spirit of devotion to his kind that he  
said1 8,therefore here is the deficience
 which ,i find1 that physicians have not
 444 set down and delivered over certain
 experimental medicines for the cure of 
particular diseases40  ,dr4 ,russell's  
true insight into the relation of ,lord 
,bacon to the medical as well as to all 
science1 has suggested the above        
remarks4 ,what our author chiefly       
desires is1 that the same principles    
which made medicine what it is1 should  
be allowed to carry it yet further1 and 
make it what it ought to be1 and must   
become4 ,as he goes on to show1 through 
succeeding lives and theories1 that just
 in proportion as these principles have 
been followed--the principles of careful
 observation1 hypothesis1 and           
experiment--have men made discoveries   
that have been helpful to their         
fellow-men2 while1 on the other hand1   
the most elaborate theories of the most 
popular physicians1 which have owed     
their birth to premature generalization 

and invention1 have passed away1 like   
the crackling of thorns under a pot4    
,belonging to the latter class of men1  
we have ,stahl1 ,hoffman1 ,boerhaave1   
,cullen1 and ,brown2 while to the former
 belong ,harvey1 ,sydenham1 ,jenner1 and
 ,hahnemann4  ,after the last name1     
there is no need to say that our author 
is a homoeopath4 ,whatever may be our   
private opinion of the system1 justice  
requires that we should say at least    
that books such as these are quite as   
open to refutation as to ridicule2 for  
it is only a good argument that is worth
 refuting by a better4 ,but we fear     
there are few books on this subject that
 treat of it with the calmness and      
fairness which would incline an honest  
homoeopath to put them into the hands of
 one of the opposite party as an        
exposition of his opinions4 ,there is no
 excitement in these pages4 ,they are   
the work of a man of liberal education1 
of refinement1 and of truthfulness1 with
 power to understand1 and facility to   

express2 one of whose main objects is to
 vindicate for homoeopathy1 on the most 
rightful of all grounds--those on which 
alone science can stand--on the ground1 
that is1 of laws discovered by          
observation and experiment--the place   
not only of a fact in the history of    
medicine1 but the right to be considered
 as one of the greatest advances towards
 the establishment of a science of      
curing4 ,certainly if he and the rest of
 its advocates should fail utterly in   
this1 the heresy will yet have          
established for itself a memorial in    
history1 as one of the most powerful    
illusions that have ever deceived both  
priests and people4 ,but the chief      
advantage which the system will derive  
from ,dr4 ,russell's book will spring1  
it seems to us1 from his attempt--a     
successful one it must be confessed--to 
prove that homoeopathy is a development1
 and not a mere reaction2 that it has   
its roots far down in the history of    
science4 ,the first mention of it in the

 book1 however1 is made for the purpose 
of disavowing the claim1 advanced by    
many homoeopathists1 to ,hippocrates as 
one of their order4 ,not to mention the 
curious story about ,galen and the      
patient ill from an overdose of         
theriacum1 who was cured by another dose
 of the same substance1 nor the ridicule
 of the doctrine of contraries by       
,paracelsus and ,van ,helmont1 nor the  
fact that the contraries of ,boerhaave1 
by his own explanation1 merely signify  
whatever substances prove their         
contrariety to the disease by curing    
it--to pass by these1 we find one of the
 main objects of homoeopathy1 the       
discovery of specifics1 insisted upon by
 ,lord ,bacon in his words already      
quoted4 ,not that homoeopaths1 while    
they depend upon specifics1 believe that
 there is any such thing as a specific  
for a disease--a disease being as       
various as the individuality of the     
human beings whom it may attack2 but    
that an approximate specific may be     

found for every well-defined stage in   
every individual disease2 a disease     
having its process of change1           
development1 and decline1 like a        
vegetable or animal life4 ,besides an   
equally strong desire for specifics1 and
 a determined opposition to compound    
medicines1 ,boyle1 who was born the year
 of ,bacon's death1 and inherited the   
mantle of the great philosopher1        
manifests a strong belief in the power  
of the infinitesimal dose4 ,neither     
,bacon nor ,boyle1 however1 were medical
 men by profession4 ,but ,sydenham      
followed them1 according to ,dr4        
,russell1 in their tendency towards     
specifics4 ,it is almost needless to    
mention ,jenner's victory over the      
small-pox as1 in the eyes of the        
homoeopaths1 a grand step in the        
development of their system4 ,it gives  
,dr4 ,russell an opportunity of showing 
in a strong instance that the best      
discoveries for delivering mankind from 
those ills even of which they are most  

sensible have been received with        
derision1 with more than bare unbelief4 
,this is one of his objects in the book1
 and while it is no proof whatever of   
the truth of homoepathy1 it shows at    
least that the opposition manifested to 
it is no proof of its falsehood4 ,this  
is enough2 for it seeks to be tried on  
its own merits2 and its foes are bound  
to accord it this when it is advocated  
in such an honest and dignified manner  
as in the book before us4  ,the need of 
man1 in physics as well as in higher    
things1 is the guide to truth4 ,with    
evils of any sort we need no further    
acquaintance than may be gained in the  
endeavour to combat them4 ,the discovery
 of what will cure diseases seems the   
only natural mode of rising by          
generalization to the discovery of the  
laws of cure and the nature of disease4 
,those portions of the volume which     
discuss the influence of ,christianity  
on the healing art1 likewise those      
relating to the different feelings with 

which at different times in different   
countries physicians have been regarded1
 are especially interesting4  ,the only 
portion of the book we should be        
inclined to find fault with1 as to the  
quality of the thought expended upon it1
 is the dissertation in the second      
chapter on the ,greek3 psuchae and      
,greek3 pneuma4 ,we doubt likewise      
whether the author gives the ,archaeus  
of ,van ,helmont quite fair play2 but   
these are questions so purely           
theoretical that they scarcely admit of 
discussion here4 ,we rise from the      
perusal of the book1 whatever may be our
 feelings with regard to the truth or   
falsehood of the system it advocates1   
with increased respect for the          
profession of medicine1 with enlarged   
hope for its future1 and with a strong  
feeling of the nobility conferred by the
 art upon every one of its practitioners
 who is aware of the dignity of his     
calling4     ,,wordsworth',s ,,poetry   
,footnote3 ,delivered extempore at      

,manchester4  ,the history of the poetry
 of ,wordsworth is a true reflex of the 
man himself4 ,the life of ,wordsworth   
was not outwardly eventful1 but his     
inner life was full of conflict1        
discovery1 and progress4 ,his outward   
life seems to have been so ordered by   
,providence as to favour the development
 of the poetic life within4 ,educated in
 the country1 and spending most of his  
life in the society of nature1 he was   
not subjected to those violent external 
changes which have been the lot of some 
poets4 ,perfectly fitted as he was to   
cope with the world1 and to fight his   
way to any desired position1 he chose to
 retire from it1 and in solitude to work
 out what appeared to him to be the true
 destiny of his life4  ,the very element
 in which the mind of ,wordsworth lived 
and moved was a ,christian pantheism4   
,allow me to explain the word4 ,the     
poets of the ,old ,testament speak of   
everything as being the work of ,god's  
hand3--,we are the 8work of his hand20  

8,the world was made by him40 ,but in   
the ,new ,testament there is a higher   
form used to express the relation in    
which we stand to him--8,we are his     
offspring20 not the work of his hand1   
but the children that came forth from   
his heart4 ,our own poet ,goldsmith1    
with the high instinct of genius1 speaks
 of ,god as having 8loved us into       
being40 ,now ,i think this is not only  
true with regard to man1 but true       
likewise with regard to the world in    
which we live4 ,this world is not merely
 a thing which ,god hath made1          
subjecting it to laws2 but it is an     
expression of the thought1 the feeling1 
the heart of ,god himself4 ,and so it   
must be2 because1 if man be the child of
 ,god1 would he not feel to be out of   
his element if he lived in a world which
 came1 not from the heart of ,god1 but  
only from his hand8 ,this ,christian    
pantheism1 this belief that ,god is in  
everything1 and showing himself in      
everything1 has been much brought to the

 light by the poets of the past         
generation1 and has its influence still1
 ,i hope1 upon the poets of the present4
 ,we are not satisfied that the world   
should be a proof and varying indication
 of the intellect of ,god4 ,that was how
 ,paley viewed it4 ,he taught us to     
believe there is a ,god from the        
mechanism of the world4 ,but1 allowing  
all the argument to be quite correct1   
what does it prove8 ,a mechanical ,god1 
and nothing more4  ,let us go further2  
and1 looking at beauty1 believe that    
,god is the first of artists2 that he   
has put beauty into nature1 knowing how 
it will affect us1 and intending that it
 should so affect us2 that he has       
embodied his own grand thoughts thus    
that we might see them and be glad4     
,then1 let us go further still1 and     
believe that whatever we feel in the    
highest moments of truth shining through
 beauty1 whatever comes to our souls as 
a power of life1 is meant to be seen and
 felt by us1 and to be regarded not as  

the work of his hand1 but as the flowing
 forth of his heart1 the flowing forth  
of his love of us1 making us blessed in 
the union of his heart and ours4  ,now1 
,wordsworth is the high priest of nature
 thus regarded4 ,he saw ,god present    
everywhere2 not always immediately1 in  
his own form1 it is true2 but whether he
 looked upon the awful mountain-peak1   
sky-encompassed with loveliness1 or upon
 the face of a little child1 which is as
 it were eyes in the face of nature--in 
all things he felt the solemn presence  
of the ,divine ,spirit4 ,by ,keats this 
presence was recognized only as the     
spirit of beauty2 to ,wordsworth1 ,god1 
as the ,spirit of ,truth1 was manifested
 through the forms of the external      
world4  ,i have said that the life of   
,wordsworth was so ordered as to bring  
this out of him1 in the forms of his    
art1 to the ears of men4 ,in childhood  
even his conscience was partly developed
 through the influences of nature upon  
him4 ,he thus retrospectively describes 

this special influence of nature3--     
,one summer evening 7led by her7 ,i     
found   ,a little boat1 tied to a willow
 tree1   ,within a rocky cave1 its usual
 home4   ,straight ,i unloosed her      
chain1 and stepping in1   ,pushed from  
the shore4 ,it was an act of stealth1   
,and troubled pleasure1 nor without the 
voice   ,of mountain echoes did my boat 
move on1   ,leaving behind her still1 on
 either side1   ,small circles          
glittering idly in the moon1   ,until   
they melted all into one track   ,of    
sparkling light4 ,but now1 like one who 
rows   ,proud of his skill1 to reach a  
chosen point   ,with an unswerving line1
 ,i fixed my view   ,upon the summit of 
a craggy ridge1   ,the horizon's utmost 
boundary2 far above   ,was nothing but  
the stars and the grey sky4   ,she was  
an elfin pinnace2 lustily   ,i dipped my
 oars into the silent lake1   ,and1 as  
,i rose upon the stroke1 my boat   ,went
 heaving through the water like a swan2 
,when1 from behind that craggy steep1   

till then   ,the horizon's bound1 a huge
 peak1 black and huge1   ,as if with    
voluntary power instinct1   ,upreared   
its head4 ,i struck and struck again1   
,and1 growing still in stature1 the grim
 shape   ,towered up between me and the 
stars1 and still   ,for so it seemed1   
with purpose of its own1   ,and measured
 motion like a living thing1   ,strode  
after me4 ,with trembling oars ,i       
turned1   ,and through the silent water 
stole my way   ,back to the covert of   
the willow tree2   ,there in her mooring
 place ,i left my bark1   ,and through  
the meadows homeward went1 in grave     
,and serious mood2 but after ,i had seen
   ,that spectacle1 for many days1 my   
brain   ,worked with a dim and          
undetermined sense   ,of unknown modes  
of being2 o'er my thoughts   ,there hung
 a darkness1 call it solitude1   ,or    
blank desertion4 ,no familiar shapes    
,remained1 no pleasant images of trees1 
,of sea1 or sky1 no colours of green    
fields2   ,but huge and mighty forms1   

that do not live   ,like living men1    
moved slowly through the mind   ,by day1
 and were a trouble to my dreams4  ,here
 we see that a fresh impulse was given  
to his life even in boyhood1 by the     
influence of nature4 ,if we have had any
 similar experience1 we shall be able to
 enter into this feeling of             
,wordsworth's2 if not1 the tale will be 
almost incredible4  ,one passage more ,i
 would refer to1 as showing what        
,wordsworth felt with regard to nature1 
in his youth2 and the growth that took  
place in him in consequence4 ,nature    
laid up in the storehouse of his mind   
and heart her most beautiful and grand  
forms1 whence they might be brought1    
afterwards1 to be put to the highest    
human service4 ,i quote only a few lines
 from that poem1 deservedly a favourite 
with all the lovers of ,wordsworth1     
8,lines written above ,tintern          
,abbey30--                      ,i      
cannot paint   ,what then ,i was4 ,the  
sounding cataract   ,haunted me like a  

passion2 the tall rock1   ,the mountain1
 and the deep and gloomy wood1   ,their 
colours and their forms1 were then to me
   ,an appetite2 a feeling and a love1  
,that had no need of a remoter charm    
,by thought supplied1 nor any interest  
,unborrowed from the eye4--,that time is
 past1   ,and all its aching joys are   
now no more1   ,and all its dizzy       
raptures4 ,not for this   ,faint ,i1 nor
 mourn nor murmur2 other gifts   ,have  
followed2 for such loss1 ,i would       
believe1   ,abundant recompense4 ,for ,i
 have learned   ,to look on nature1 not 
as in the hour   ,of thoughtless youth2 
but hearing oftentimes   ,the still1 sad
 music of humanity1   ,nor harsh1 nor   
grating1 though of ample power   ,to    
chasten and subdue4 ,and ,i have felt   
,a presence that disturbs me with the   
joy   ,of elevated thoughts2 a sense    
sublime   ,of something far more deeply 
interfused1   ,whose dwelling is the    
light of setting suns1   ,and the round 
ocean1 and the living air   ,and the    

blue sky1 and in the mind of man2   ,a  
motion and a spirit1 that impels   ,all 
thinking things1 all objects of all     
thought1   ,and rolls through all       
things4  ,in this little passage you see
 the growth of the influence of nature  
on the mind of the poet4 ,you observe1  
too1 that nature passes into poetry2    
that form is sublimed into speech4 ,you 
see the result of the conjunction of the
 mind of man1 and the mind of ,god      
manifested in ,his works2 spirit coming 
to know the speech of spirit4 ,the      
outflowing of spirit in nature is       
received by the poet1 and he utters     
again1 in his form1 what ,god has       
already uttered in ,his4 ,wordsworth    
wished to give to man what he found in  
nature4 ,it was to him a power of good1 
a world of teaching1 a strength of life4
 ,he knew that nature was not his1 and  
that his enjoyment of nature was given  
to him that he might give it to man4 ,it
 was the birthright of man4  ,but what  
did ,wordsworth find in nature8 ,to     

begin with the lowest2 he found         
amusement in nature4 ,right amusement is
 a part of teaching2 it is the childish 
form of teaching1 and if we can get this
 in nature1 we get something that lies  
near the root of good4 ,in proof that   
,wordsworth found this1 ,i refer to a   
poem which you probably know well1 8,the
 ,daisy40  ,the poet sits playing with  
the flower1 and listening to the        
suggestions that come to him of odd     
resemblances that this flower bears to  
other things4 ,he likens the daisy to-- 
,a little cyclops1 with one eye         
,staring to threaten and defy1   ,that  
thought comes next--and instantly       
,the freak is over1   ,the shape will   
vanish--and behold   ,a silver shield   
with boss of gold1   ,that spreads      
itself1 some fary bold       ,in fight  
to cover6  ,look at the last stanza1    
too1 and you will see how close         
amusement may lie to deep and earnest   
thought3--    ,bright ,flower6 for by   
that name at last   ,when all my        

reveries are past1   ,i call thee1 and  
to that cleave fast1           ,sweet   
silent creature6   ,that breath'st with 
me in sun and air1   ,do thou1 as thou  
art wont1 repair   ,my heart with       
gladness1 and a share           ,of thy 
meek nature6  ,but ,wordsworth found    
also joy in nature1 which is a better   
thing than amusement1 and consequently  
easier to be found4 ,we can often have  
joy where we can have no amusement1--   
,i wandered lonely as a cloud     ,that 
floats on high o'er vales and hills     
,when all at once ,i saw a crowd1     ,a
 host1 of golden daffodils2   ,beside   
the lake1 beneath the trees1            
,fluttering and dancing in the breeze4  
99       99       99       99       99  
,the waves beside them danced2 but they 
,out-did the sparkling waves in glee3   
,a poet could not but be gay1     ,in   
such a jocund company3   ,i gazed--and  
gazed--but little thought   ,what       
,health the show to me had brought4     
8,for oft1 when on my couch ,i lie      

,in vacant or in pensive mood1   ,they  
flash upon that inward eye     ,which is
 the bliss of solitude2   ,and then my  
heart with pleasure fills1   ,and dances
 with the daffodils40  ,this is the joy 
of the eye1 as far as that can be       
separated from the joy of the whole     
nature2 for his whole nature rejoiced in
 the joy of the eye2 but it was simply  
joy2 there was no further teaching1 no  
attempt to go through this beauty and   
find the truth below it4 ,we are not    
always to be in that hungry1 restless   
condition1 even after truth itself4 ,if 
we keep our minds quiet and ready to    
receive truth1 and sometimes are hungry 
for it1 that is enough4  ,going a step  
higher1 you will find that he sometimes 
draws a lesson from nature1 seeming     
almost to force a meaning from her4 ,i  
do not object to this1 if he does not   
make too much of it as existing in      
nature4 ,it is rather finding a meaning 
in nature that he brought to it4 ,the   
meaning exists1 if not there4 ,for      

illustration ,i refer to another poem4  
,observe that ,wordsworth found the     
lesson because he looked for it1 and    
would find it4    ,this ,lawn1 a carpet 
all alive   ,with shadows flung from    
leaves--to strive           ,in dance1  
amid a press   ,of sunshine1 an apt     
emblem yields   ,of ,worldlings         
revelling in the fields           ,of   
strenuous idleness4           99        
99       99       99       99    ,yet1  
spite of all this eager strife1   ,this 
ceaseless play1 the genuine life        
,that serves the steadfast hours1   ,is 
in the grass beneath1 that grows        
,unheeded1 and the mute repose          
,of sweetly-breathing flowers4  ,whether
 he forced this lesson from nature1 or  
not1 it is a good lesson1 teaching a    
great many things with regard to life   
and work4  ,again1 nature sometimes     
flashes a lesson on his mind2 gives it  
to him--and when nature gives1 we cannot
 but receive4 ,as in this sonnet        
composed during a storm1--    ,one who  

was suffering tumult in his soul   ,yet 
failed to seek the sure relief of       
prayer1   ,went forth2 his course       
surrendering to the care   ,of the      
fierce wind1 while mid-day lightnings   
prowl   ,insiduously1 untimely thunders 
growl2   ,while trees1 dim-seen1 in     
frenzied numbers tear   ,the lingering  
remnant of their yellow hair1   ,and    
shivering wolves1 surprised with        
darkness1 howl   ,as if the sun were    
not4 ,he raised his eye   ,soul-smitten2
 for1 that instant1 did appear   ,large 
space 7mid dreadful clouds7 of purest   
sky1   ,an azure disc--shield of        
,tranquillity2   ,invisible1            
unlooked-for1 minister   ,of            
providential goodness ever nigh6        
,observe that he was not looking for    
this2 he had not thought of praying2 he 
was in such distress that it had        
benumbed the out-goings of his spirit   
towards the source whence alone sure    
comfort comes4 ,he went out into the    
storm2 and the uproar in the outer world

 was in harmony with the tumult within  
his soul4 ,suddenly a clear space in the
 sky makes him feel--he has no time to  
think about it--that there is a shield  
of tranquillity spread over him4 ,for   
was it not as it were an opening up into
 that region where there are no storms2 
the regions of peace1 because the       
regions of love1 and truth1 and         
purity1--the home of ,god himself8      
,there is yet a higher and more         
sustained influence exercised by nature1
 and that takes effect when she puts a  
man into that mood or condition in which
 thoughts come of themselves4 ,that is  
perhaps the best thing that can be done 
for us1 the best at least that nature   
can do4 ,it is certainly higher than    
mere intellectual teaching4 ,that nature
 did this for ,wordsworth is very clear2
 and it is easily intelligible4 ,if the 
world proceeded from the imagination of 
,god1 and man proceeded from the love of
 ,god1 it is easy to believe that that  
which proceeded from the imagination of 

,god should rouse the best thoughts in  
the mind of a being who proceeded from  
the love of ,god4 ,this ,i think is the 
relation between man and the world4 ,as 
an instance of what ,i mean1 ,i refer to
 one of ,wordsworth's finest poems1     
which he classes under the head of      
8,evening ,voluntaries40 ,it was        
composed upon an evening of             
extraordinary splendour and beauty3--   
8,had this effulgence disappeared       
,with flying haste1 ,i might have sent1 
,among the speechless clouds1 a look    
,of blank astonishment2   ,but #8tis    
endued with power to stay1   ,and       
sanctify one closing day1   ,that frail 
,mortality may see--   ,what is8--ah no1
 but what can1 be6   ,time was when     
field and watery cove   ,with modulated 
echoes rang1   ,while choirs of fervent 
,angels sang   ,their vespers in the    
grove2   ,or1 crowning1 star-like1 each 
some sovereign height1   ,warbled1 for  
heaven above and earth below1   ,strains
 suitable to both4 ,such holy rite1     

,methinks1 if audibly repeated now      
,from hill or valley1 could not move    
,sublimer transport1 purer love1   ,than
 doth this silent spectacle--the gleam--
   ,the shadow--and the peace supreme6  
8,no sound is uttered1--but a deep      
,and solemn harmony pervades   ,the     
hollow vale from steep to steep1        
,and penetrates the glades4           99
       99       99       99       99    
8,wings at my shoulders seem to play2   
,but1 rooted here1 ,i stand and gaze    
,on those bright steps that heaven-ward 
raise   ,their practicable way4   ,come 
forth1 ye drooping old men1 look abroad1
   ,and see to what fair countries ye   
are bound6           99       99        
99       99       99    8,dread ,power6 
whom peace and calmness serve   ,no less
 than ,nature's threatening voice1      
,from ,,thee1 if ,i would swerve1   ,oh1
 let ,thy grace remind me of the light  
,full early lost1 and fruitlessly       
deplored2   ,which1 at this moment1 on  
my waking sight   ,appears to shine1 by 

miracle restored2   ,my soul1 though yet
 confined to earth1   ,rejoices in a    
second birth60  ,picture the scene for  
yourselves2 and observe how it moves in 
him the sense of responsibility1 and the
 prayer1 that if he has in any matter   
wandered from the right road1 if he has 
forgotten the simplicity of childhood in
 the toil of life1 he may1 from this    
time1 remember the vow that he now      
records--from this time to press on     
towards the things that are unseen1 but 
which are manifested through the things 
that are seen4 ,i refer you likewise to 
the poem 8,resolution and               
,independence10 commonly called 8,the   
,leech ,gatherer20 also to that grandest
 ode that has ever been written1 the    
8,ode on ,immortality40 ,you will find  
there1 whatever you may think of his    
theory1 in the latter1 sufficient proof 
that nature was to him a divine teaching
 power4 ,do not suppose that ,i mean    
that man can do without more teaching   
than nature's1 or that a man with only  

nature's teaching would have seen these 
things in nature4 ,no1 the soul must be 
tuned to such things4 ,wordsworth could 
not have found such things1 had he not  
known something that was more definite  
and helpful to him2 but this known1 then
 nature was full of teaching4 ,when we  
understand the ,word of ,god1 then we   
understand the works of ,god2 when we   
know the nature of an artist1 we know   
his pictures2 when we have known and    
talked with the poet1 we understand his 
poetry far better4 ,to the man of ,god1 
all nature will be but changeful        
reflections of the face of ,god4        
,loving man as ,wordsworth did1 he was  
most anxious to give him this teaching4 
,how was he to do it8 ,by poetry4       
,nature put into the crucible of a      
loving heart becomes poetry4 ,we cannot 
explain poetry scientifically2 because  
poetry is something beyond science4 ,the
 poet may be man of science1 and the man
 of science may be a poet2 but poetry   
includes science1 and the man who will  

advance science most1 is the man who1   
other qualifications being equal1 has   
most of the poetic faculty in him4      
,wordsworth defines poetry to be 8the   
impassioned expression which is on the  
face of science40 ,science has to do    
with the construction of things4 ,the   
casting of the granite ribs of the      
mighty earth1 and all the thousand      
operations that result in the           
manifestations on its surface1 this is  
the domain of science4 ,but when there  
come the grass-bearing meadows1 the     
heaven-reared hills1 the great streams  
that go ever downward1 the bubbling     
fountains that ever arise1 the wind that
 wanders amongst the leaves1 and the    
odours that are wafted upon its wings2  
when we have colour1 and shape1 and     
sound1 then we have the material with   
which poetry has to do4 ,science has to 
do with the underwork4 ,for what does   
this great central world exist1 with its
 hidden winds and waters1 its upheavings
 and its downsinkings1 its strong frame 

of rock1 and its heart of fire8 ,what do
 they all exist for8 ,not for themselves
 surely1 but for the sake of this       
out-spreading world of beauty1 that     
floats up1 as it were1 to the surface of
 the shapeless region of force4 ,science
 has to do with the one1 and poetry with
 the other3 poetry is 8the impassioned  
expression that is on the face of       
science40 ,to illustrate it still       
further4 ,you are walking in the woods1 
and you find the first primrose of the  
year4 ,you feel almost as if you had    
found a child4 ,you know in yourself    
that you have found a new beauty and a  
new joy1 though you have seen it a      
thousand times before4 ,it is a         
primrose4 ,a little flower that looks at
 me1 thinks itself into my heart1 and   
gives me a pleasure distinct in itself1 
and which ,i feel as if ,i could not do 
without4 ,the impassioned expression on 
the face of this little outspread flower
 is its childhood2 it means trust1      
consciousness of protection1 faith1 and 

hope4 ,science1 in the person of the    
botanist1 comes after you1 and pulls it 
to pieces to see its construction1 and  
delights the intellect2 but the science 
itself is dead1 and kills what it       
touches4 ,the flower exists not for it1 
but for the expression on its face1     
which is its poetry1--that expression   
which you feel to mean a living thing2  
that expression which makes you feel    
that this flower is1 as it were1 just   
growing out of the heart of ,god4 ,the  
intellect itself is but the scaffolding 
for the uprearing of the spiritual      
nature4  ,it will make all this yet     
plainer1 if you can suppose a human form
 to be created without a soul in it4    
,divine science has put it together1 but
 only for the sake of the outshining    
soul that shall cause it to live1 and   
move1 and have a being of its own in    
,god4 ,when you see the face lighted up 
with soul1 when you recognize in it     
thought and feeling1 joy and love1 then 
you know that here is the end for which 

it was made4 ,thus you see the relation 
that poetry has to science2 and you find
 that1 to speak in an apparent paradox1 
the surface is the deepest after all2   
for1 through the surface1 for the sake  
of which all this building went on1 we  
have1 as it were1 a window into the     
depths of truth4 ,there is not a form   
that lives in the world1 but is a window
 cloven through the blank darkness of   
nothingness1 to let us look into the    
heart1 and feeling1 and nature of ,god4 
,so the surface of things is the best   
and the deepest1 provided it is not mere
 surface1 but the impassioned           
expression1 for the sake of which the   
science of ,god has thought and         
laboured4  ,satisfied that this was the 
nature of poetry1 and wanting to convey 
this to the minds of his fellow-men1    
8,what vehicle10 ,wordsworth may be     
supposed to have asked himself1 8shall  
,i use8 ,how shall ,i decide what form  
of words to employ8 ,where am ,i to find
 the right language for speaking such   

great things to men80 ,he saw that the  
poetry of the eighteenth century 7he was
 born in #aggj7 was not like nature at  
all1 but was an artificial thing1 with  
no more originality in it than there    
would be in a picture a hundred times   
copied1 the copyists never reverting to 
the original4 ,you cannot look into this
 eighteenth century poetry1 excepting1  
of course1 a great proportion of the    
poetry of ,cowper and ,thompson1 without
 being struck with the sort of agreement
 that nothing should be said naturally4 
,a certain set form and mode was        
employed for saying things that ought   
never to have been said twice in the    
same way4 ,wordsworth resolved to go    
back to the root of the thing1 to the   
natural simplicity of speech2 he would  
have none of these stereotyped forms of 
expression4 8,where shall ,i find10 said
 he1 8the language that will be simple  
and powerful80 ,and he came to the      
conclusion that the language of the     
common people was the only language     

suitable for his purpose4 ,your         
experience of the everyday language of  
the common people may be that it is not 
poetical4 ,true1 but not even a poet can
 speak poetically in his stupid moments4
 ,wordsworth's idea was to take the     
language of the common people in their  
uncommon moods1 in their high and1      
consequently1 simple moods1 when their  
minds are influenced by grief1 hope1    
reverence1 worship1 love2 for then he   
believed he could get just the language 
suitable for the poet4 ,as far as that  
language will go1 ,i think he was right1
 if ,i may venture to give an opinion in
 support of ,wordsworth4 ,of course1    
there will occur necessities to the poet
 which would not be comprehended in the 
language of a man whose thoughts had    
never moved in the same directions1 but 
the kind of language will be the right  
thing1 and ,i have heard such amongst   
the common people myself--language which
 they did not know to be poetic1 but    
which fell upon my ear and heart as     

profoundly poetic both in its feeling   
and its form4  ,in attempting to carry  
out this theory1 ,i am not prepared to  
say that ,wordsworth never transgressed 
his own self-imposed laws4 ,but he      
adhered to his theory to the last4 ,a   
friend of the poet's told me that       
,wordsworth had to him expressed his    
belief that he would be remembered      
longest1 not by his sonnets1 as his     
friend thought1 but by his lyrical      
ballads1 those for which he had been    
reviled and laughed at2 the most by     
critics who could not understand him1   
and who were unworthy to read what he   
had written4 ,as a proof of this let me 
read to you three verses1 composing a   
poem that was especially marked for     
derision3--    ,she dwelt among the     
untrodden ways1   ,beside the springs of
 ,dove2   ,a maid whom there were none  
to praise1   ,and very few to love4     
,a violet by a mossy stone4   ,half     
hidden from the eye2   ,fair as a star1 
when only one   ,is shining in the sky4 

,she lived unknown1 and few could know  
,when ,lucy ceased to be2   ,but she is 
in her grave1 and ,oh6   ,the difference
 to me4  ,the last line was especially  
chosen as the object of ridicule2 but ,i
 think with most of us the feeling will 
be1 that its very simplicity of         
expression is overflowing in suggestion1
 it throws us back upon our own         
experience2 for1 instead of trying to   
utter what he felt1 he says in those    
simple and common words1 8,you who have 
known anything of the kind1 will know   
what the difference to me is1 and only  
you can know40 8,my intention and       
desire10 he says in one of his essays1  
8are that the interest of the poem shall
 owe nothing to the circumstances2 but  
that the circumstances shall be made    
interesting by the thing itself40 ,in   
most novels1 for instance1 the attempt  
is made to interest us in worthless1    
commonplace people1 whom1 if we had our 
choice1 we would far rather not meet at 
all1 by surrounding them with peculiar  

and extraordinary circumstances2 but    
this is a low source of interest4       
,wordsworth was determined to owe       
nothing to such an adventitious cause4  
,for illustration allow me to read that 
well-known little ballad1 8,the ,reverie
 of ,poor ,susan10 and you will see how 
entirely it bears out what he lays down 
as his theory4 ,the scene is in         
,london3--    ,at the corner of         
,wood-street1 when daylight appears1    
,hangs a ,thrush that sings loud1 it has
 sung for three years2   ,poor ,susan   
has passed by the spot1 and has heard1  
,in the silence of morning1 the song of 
the ,bird4    #8,tis a note of          
enchantment3 what ails her8 ,she sees   
,a mountain ascending1 a vision of      
trees2   ,bright volumes of vapour      
through ,lothbury glide1   ,and a river 
flows on through the vale of ,cheapside4
    ,green pastures she views in the    
midst of the dale1   ,down which she so 
often has tripped with her pail2   ,and 
a single small cottage1 a nest like a   

dove's1   ,the one only dwelling on     
earth that she loves4    ,she looks1 and
 her heart is in heaven3 but they fade1 
,the mist and the river1 the hill and   
the shade3   ,the stream will not flow1 
and the hill will not rise1   ,and the  
colours have all passed away from her   
eyes6  ,is any of the interest here     
owing to the circumstances8 ,is it not a
 very common incident8 ,but has he not  
treated it so that it is not commonplace
 in the least8 ,we recognize in this    
girl just the feelings we discover in   
ourselves1 and acknowledge almost with  
tears her sisterhood to us all4  ,i have
 tried to make you feel something of    
what ,wordsworth attempts to do1 but ,i 
have not given you the best of his      
poems4 ,allow me to finish by reading   
the closing portion of the ,prelude1 the
 poem that was published after his      
death4 ,it is addressed to ,coleridge3--
    ,oh6 yet a few short years of useful
 life1   ,and all will be complete1 thy 
race be run1   ,thy monument of glory   

will be raised2   ,then1 though 7too    
weak to head the ways of truth7   ,this 
age fall back to old idolatry1   ,though
 men return to servitude as fast   ,as  
the tide ebbs1 to ignominy and shame    
,by nations sink together1 we shall     
still   ,find solace--knowing what we   
have learnt to know--   ,rich in true   
happiness1 if allowed to be   ,faithful 
alike in forwarding a day   ,of firmer  
trust1 joint labourers in the work      
7,should ,providence such grace to us   
vouchsafe7   ,of their deliverance1     
surely yet to come4   ,prophets of      
,nature1 we to them will speak   ,a     
lasting inspiration1 sanctified   ,by   
reason1 blest by faith3 what we have    
loved1   ,others will love1 and we will 
teach them how2   ,instruct them how the
 mind of man becomes   ,a thousand times
 more beautiful than the earth   ,on    
which he dwells1 above this frame of    
things   7,which1 #8mid all revolution  
in the hopes   ,and fears of men1 doth  
still remain unchanged7   ,in beauty    

exalted1 as it is itself   ,of quality  
and fabric more divine4     ,,shelley4  
,whatever opinion may be held with      
regard to the relative position occupied
 by ,shelley as a poet1 it will be      
granted by most of those who have       
studied his writings1 that they are of  
such an individual and original kind1   
that he can neither be hidden in the    
shade1 nor lost in the brightness1 of   
any other poet4 ,no idea of his works   
could be conveyed by instituting a      
comparison1 for he does not sufficiently
 resemble any other among ,english      
writers to make such a comparison       
possible4  ,percy ,bysshe ,shelley was  
born at ,field ,place1 near ,horsham1 in
 the county of ,sussex1 on the #dth of  
,august1 #agib4 ,he was the son of      
,timothy ,shelley1 ,esq41 and grandson  
of ,sir ,bysshe ,shelley1 the first     
baronet4 ,his ancestors had long been   
large landed proprietors in ,sussex4    
,as a child his habits were noticeable4 
,he was especially fond of rambling by  

moonlight1 of inventing wonderful tales1
 of occupying himself with strange1 and 
sometimes dangerous1 amusements4 ,at the
 age of thirteen he went to ,eton4 ,in  
this little world1 that determined      
opposition to whatever appeared to him  
an invasion of human rights and liberty1
 which was afterwards the animating     
principle of most of his writings1 was  
first roused in the mind of ,shelley4   
,were we not aware of far keener        
distress which he afterwards endured    
from yet greater injustice1 we might    
suppose that the sufferings he had to   
bear from placing himself in opposition 
to the custom of the school1 by refusing
 to fag1 had made him morbidly sensitive
 on the point of liberty4 ,at a time1   
however1 when freedom of speech1 as     
indicating freedom of thought1 was      
especially obnoxious to established     
authorities2 when no allowance could be 
made on the score of youth1 still less  
on that of individual peculiarity1      
,shelley became a student at ,oxford4   

,he was then eighteen4 ,devoted to      
metaphysical speculation1 and especially
 fond of logical discussion1 he1 in his 
first year1 printed and distributed     
among the authorities and members of his
 college a pamphlet1 if that can be     
called a pamphlet which consisted only  
of two pages1 in which he opposed the   
usual arguments for the existence of a  
,deity2 arguments which1 perhaps1 the   
most ardent believers have equally      
considered inconclusive4 ,whether       
,shelley wrote this pamphlet as an      
embodiment of his own opinions1 or      
merely as a logical confutation of      
certain arguments1 the mode of procedure
 adopted with him was certainly not one 
which necessarily resulted from the     
position of those to whose care the     
education of his opinions was entrusted4
 ,without waiting to be assured that he 
was the author1 and satisfying          
themselves with his refusal to answer   
when questioned as to the authorship1   
they handed him his sentence of         

expulsion1 which had been already drawn 
up in due form4  ,about this time       
,shelley wrote1 or commenced writing1   
,queen ,mab1 a poem which he never      
published1 although he distributed      
copies among his friends4 ,in after     
years he had such a low opinion of it in
 every respect1 that he regretted having
 printed it at all2 and when an edition 
of it was published without his consent1
 he applied to the ,court of ,chancery  
for an injunction to suppress it4       
,shelley's opinions in politics and     
theology1 which he appears to have been 
far more anxious to maintain than was   
consistent with the peace of the        
household1 were peculiarly obnoxious to 
his father1 a man as different from his 
son as it is possible to conceive2 and  
his expulsion from ,oxford was soon     
followed by exile from his home4 ,he    
went to ,london1 where1 through his     
sisters1 who were at school in the      
neighbourhood1 he made the acquaintence 
of ,harriet ,west brook1 whom he eloped 

with and married1 when he was nineteen  
and she sixteen years of age4 ,it seems 
doubtful whether the attachment between 
them was more than the result of the    
reception accorded by the enthusiasm of 
the girl to the enthusiasm of the youth1
 manifesting itself in wild talk about  
human rights1 and equally wild plans for
 their recovery and security4 ,however  
this may be1 the result was unfortunate4
 ,they wandered about ,england1         
,scotland1 and ,ireland1 with frequent  
and sudden change of residence1 for     
rather more than two years4 ,during this
 time ,shelley gained the friendship of 
some of the most eminent men of the age1
 of whom the one who exercised the most 
influence upon his character and future 
history was ,william ,godwin1 whose     
instructions and expostulations tended  
to reduce to solidity and form the vague
 and extravagant opinions and projects  
of the youthful reformer4 ,shortly after
 the commencement of the third year of  
their married life1 an estrangement of  

feeling1 which had been gradually       
widening between them1 resulted in the  
final separation of the poet and his    
wife4 ,we are not informed as to the    
causes of this estrangement1 further    
than that it seems to have been owing1  
in a considerable degree1 to the        
influence of an elder sister of ,mrs4   
,shelley1 who domineered over her1 and  
whose presence became at last absolutely
 hateful to ,shelley4 ,his wife returned
 to her father's house2 where1          
apparently about three years after1 she 
committed suicide4 ,there seems to have 
been no immediate connection between    
this act and any conduct of ,shelley4   
,one of his biographers informs us1 that
 while they were living happily         
together1 suicide was with ,mrs4        
,shelley a favourite subject of         
speculation and conversation4  ,shortly 
after his first wife's death1 ,shelley  
married the daughter of ,william        
,godwin4 ,he had lived with her almost  
from the date of the separation1 during 

which time they had twice visited       
,switzerland4 ,in the following year    
7#ahag71 it was decreed in ,chancery    
that ,shelley was not a proper person to
 take charge of his two children by his 
first wife1 who had lived with her till 
her death4 ,the bill was filed in       
,chancery by their grandfather1 ,mr4    
,westbrook4 ,the effects of this        
proceeding upon ,shelley may be easily  
imagined4 ,perhaps he never recovered   
from them1 for they were not of a nature
 to pass away4 ,during this year he     
resided at ,marlow1 and wrote ,the      
,revolt of ,islam1 besides portions of  
other poems2 and the next year he left  
,england1 not to return4 ,the state of  
his health1 for he had appeared to be in
 a consumption for some time1 and the   
fear lest his son1 by his second wife1  
should be taken from him1 combined to   
induce him to take refuge in ,italy from
 both impending evils4 ,at ,lucca he    
began his ,prometheus1 and wrote ,julian
 and ,maddalo4 ,he moved from place to  

place in ,italy1 as he had done in his  
own country4 ,their two children dying1 
they were for a time left childless2 but
 the loss of these grieved ,shelley less
 than that of his eldest two1 who were  
taken from him by the hand of man4 ,in  
#ahai1 ,shelley finished his ,prometheus
 ,unbound1 writing the greater part at  
,rome1 and completing it at ,florence4  
,in this year also he wrote his tragedy1
 ,the ,cenci1 which attracted more      
attention during his lifetime than any  
other of his works4 ,the ,ode to a      
,skylark was written at ,leghorn in the 
spring of #ahbj2 and in ,august of the  
same year1 the ,witch of ,atlas was     
written1 near ,pisa4 ,in the following  
year ,shelley and ,byron met at ,pisa4  
,they were a good deal together2 but    
their friendship1 although real1 does   
not appear to have been of a very       
profound nature2 for though unlikeness  
be one of the necessary elements of     
friendship1 there are kinds of          
unlikeness which will not harmonize4    

,during all this time1 he was not only  
maligned by unknown enemies1 and abused 
by anonymous writers1 but attempts of   
other kinds are said to have been made  
to render his life as uncomfortable as  
possible4 ,there are grounds1 however1  
for doubting whether ,shelley was not   
subject to a kind of monomania upon this
 and similar points4 ,in #ahba1 he wrote
 his ,adonais1 a monody on the death of 
,keats4 ,part of this poem had its      
origin in the mistaken notion1 that the 
illness and death of ,keats were caused 
by a brutal criticism of his ,endymion1 
which appeared in the ,quarterly        
,review4 ,the last verse of the ,adonais
 seems almost prophetic of his own end4 
,passionately fond of boating1 he and a 
friend of his1 ,mr4 ,williams1 united in
 constructing a boat of a peculiar      
build1 a very fast sailer1 but difficult
 to manage4 ,on the #hth of ,july1      
#ahbb1 ,shelley and his friend ,williams
 sailed from ,leghorn for ,lerici1 on   
the ,bay of ,spezia1 near which lay his 

home for the time4 ,a sudden squall came
 on1 and their boat disappeared4 ,the   
bodies of the two friends were cast on  
shore2 and1 according to quarantine     
regulations1 were burned to ashes4 ,lord
 ,byron1 ,leigh ,hunt1 and ,mr4         
,trelawney were present when the body of
 ,shelley was burned2 so that his ashes 
were saved1 and buried in the           
,protestant burial-ground at ,rome1 near
 the grave of ,keats1 whose body had    
been laid there in the spring of the    
preceding year4 ,cor ,cordium were the  
words inscribed by his widow on the tomb
 of the poet4  ,the character of        
,shelley has been sadly maligned4       
,whatever faults he may have committed  
against society1 they were not the      
result of sensuality4 ,one of his       
biographers1 who was his companion at   
,oxford1 and who does not seem inclined 
to do him more than justice1 asserts    
that while there his conduct was        
immaculate4 ,the whole picture he gives 
of the youth1 makes it easy to believe  

this4 ,to discuss the moral question    
involved in one part of his history     
would be out of place here2 but even on 
the supposition that a man's conduct is 
altogether inexcusable in individual    
instances1 there is the more need that  
nothing but the truth should be said    
concerning that1 and other portions     
thereof4 ,and whatever society may have 
thought itself justified in making      
subject of reprobation1 it must be      
remembered that ,shelley was under less 
obligation to society than most men4    
,yet his heart seemed full of love to   
his kind2 and the distress which the    
oppression of others caused him1 was the
 source of much of that wild            
denunciation which exposed him to the   
contempt and hatred of those who were   
rendered uncomfortable by his unsparing 
and indiscriminate anathemas4 ,in       
private1 he was beloved by all who knew 
him2 a steady1 generous1 self-denying   
friend1 not only to those who moved in  
his own circle1 but to all who were     

brought within the reach of any aid he  
could bestow4 ,to the poor he was a true
 and laborious benefactor4 ,that man    
must have been good to whom the heart of
 his widow returns with such earnest    
devotion and thankfulness in the        
recollection of the past1 and such fond 
hope for the future1 as are manifested  
by ,mrs4 ,shelley in those extracts from
 her private journal given us by ,lady  
,shelley4  ,as regards his religious    
opinions1 one of the thoughts which most
 strongly suggest themselves is1--how   
ill he must have been instructed in the 
principles of ,christianity6 ,he says   
himself in a letter to ,godwin1 8,i have
 known no tutor or adviser 7not         
excepting my father7 from whose lessons 
and suggestions ,i have not recoiled    
with disgust40 ,so far is he from being 
an opponent of ,christianity properly so
 called1 that one can hardly help       
feeling what a ,christian he would have 
been1 could he but have seen            
,christianity in any other way than     

through the traditional and practical   
misrepresentations of it which          
surrounded him4 ,all his attacks on     
,christianity are1 in reality1 directed 
against evils to which the true         
doctrines of ,christianity are more     
opposed than those of ,shelley could    
possibly be4 ,how far he was excusable  
in giving the name of ,christianity to  
what he might have seen to be only a    
miserable perversion of it1 is another  
question1 and one which hardly admits of
 discussion here4 ,it was in the name of
 ,christianity1 however1 that the worst 
injuries of which he had to complain    
were inflicted upon him4 ,coming out of 
the cathedral at ,pisa one day1         
,footnote3 ,from ,shelley ,memorials1   
edited by ,lady ,shelley1 which the     
writer of this paper has principally    
followed in regard to the external facts
 of ,shelley's history4 ,shelley warmly 
assented to a remark of ,leigh ,hunt1   
8that a divine religion might be found  
out1 if charity were really made the    

principle of it instead of faith40      
,surely the founders of ,christianity1  
even when they magnified faith1 intended
 thereby a spiritual condition1 of which
 the central principle is coincident    
with charity4 ,shelley's own feelings   
towards others1 as judged from his      
poetry1 seem to be tinctured with the   
very essence of ,christianity4          
,footnote3 ,his ,essay on ,christianity 
is full of noble views1 some of which   
are held at the present day by some of  
the most earnest believers4 ,at what    
time of his life it was written we are  
not informed2 but it seems such as would
 insure his acceptance with any company 
of intelligent and devout ,unitarians4  
,he did not1 at one time at least1      
believe that we could know the source of
 our being2 and seemed to take it as a  
self-evident truth1 that the ,creator   
could not be like the creature4 ,but it 
is unjust to fix upon any utterance of  
opinion1 and regard it as the religion  
of a man who died in his thirtieth year1

 and whose habits of thinking were such1
 that his opinions must have been in a  
state of constant change4 ,coleridge    
says in a letter3 8,his 7,shelley's7    
discussions1 tending towards atheism of 
a certain sort1 would not have scared   
me2 for me it would have been a         
semitransparent larva1 soon to be       
sloughed1 and through which ,i should   
have seen the true image--the final     
metamorphosis4 ,besides1 ,i have ever   
thought that sort of atheism the next   
best religion to ,christianity2 nor does
 the better faith ,i have learned from  
,paul and ,john interfere with the      
cordial reverence ,i feel for ,benedict 
,spinoza40  ,shelley's favourite study  
was metaphysics4 ,the more impulse there
 is in any direction1 the more education
 and experience are necessary to balance
 that impulse3 one cannot help thinking 
that ,shelley's taste for exercises of  
this kind was developed more rapidly    
than the corresponding power4 ,his      
favourite physical studies were         

chemistry and electricity4 ,with these  
he occupied himself from his childhood2 
apparently1 however1 with more delight  
in the experiments themselves1 than     
interest in the general conclusions to  
be arrived at by means of them4 ,in the 
embodiment of his metaphysical ideas in 
poetry1 the influence of these studies  
seems to show itself2 for he uses forms 
which appeal more to the outer senses   
than to the inward eye2 and his similes 
belong to the realm of the fancy1 rather
 than the imagination3 they lack vital  
resemblance4 ,logic had considerable    
attractions for him4 ,to geometry and   
mathematics he was quite indifferent4   
,one of his biographers states that 8he 
was neglectful of flowers10 because he  
had no interest in botany2 but one who  
derived such full delight from the      
contemplation of their external forms1  
could hardly be expected to feel very   
strongly the impulse to dissect them4   
,he derived exceeding pleasure from     
,greek literature1 especially from the  

works of ,plato4  ,several little       
peculiarities in ,shelley's tastes are  
worth mentioning1 because1 although in  
themselves insignificant1 they seem to  
correspond with the nature of his       
poetry4 ,perhaps the most prominent of  
these was his passion for boat-sailing4 
,he could not pass any piece of water   
without launching upon it a number of   
boats1 constructed from what paper he   
could find in his pockets4 ,the         
fly-leaves of the books he was in the   
way of carrying with him1 for he was    
constantly reading1 often went to this  
end4 ,he would watch the fate of these  
boats with the utmost interest1 till    
they sank or reached the opposite side4 
,he was just as fond of real boating1   
and that frequently of a dangerous kind2
 but it is characteristic of him1 that  
all the boats he describes in his poems 
are of a fairy1 fantastic sort1 barely  
related to the boats which battle with  
earthly winds and waves4                
,pistol-shooting was also a favourite   

amusement4 ,fireworks1 too1 gave him    
great delight4 ,some of his habits were 
likewise peculiar4 ,he was remarkably   
abstemious1 preferring bread and raisins
 to anything else in the way of eating1 
and very seldom drinking anything       
stronger than water4 ,honey was a       
favourite luxury with him4 ,while at    
college1 his biographer ,hogg says he   
was in the habit1 during the evening1 of
 going to sleep on the rug1 close to a  
blazing fire1 heat seeming never to have
 other than a beneficial effect upon    
him4 ,after sleeping some hours1 he     
would awake perfectly restored1 and     
continue actively occupied till far into
 the morning4 ,his whole movements are  
represented as rapid1 hurried1 and      
uncertain4 ,he would appear and         
disappear suddenly and unexpectedly2    
forget appointments2 burst into wild    
laughter1 heedless of his situation1    
whenever anything struck him as         
peculiarly ludicrous4 ,his changes of   
residence were most numerous1 and       

frequently made with so much haste that 
whole little libraries were left behind1
 and often lost4 ,he was very fond of   
children1 and used to make humorous     
efforts to induce them to disclose to   
him the still-remembered secrets of     
their pre-existence4 ,he seemed to have 
a peculiar attraction towards mystery1  
and was ready to believe in a hidden    
secret1 where no one else would have    
thought of one4 ,his room1 while he was 
at college1 was in a state of           
indescribable confusion4 ,not only were 
all sorts of personal necessaries       
mingled with books and philosophical    
instruments1 but things belonging to one
 department of service were not         
unfrequently pressed into the slavery of
 another4 ,he dressed well but          
carelessly4 ,in person he was tall1     
slender1 and stooping2 awkward in gait1 
but in manners a thorough gentleman4    
,his complexion was delicate2 his head1 
face1 and features1 remarkably small2   
the last not very regular1 but in       

expression1 both intellectual and moral1
 wonderfully beautiful4 ,his eyes were  
deep blue1 8of a wild1 strange beauty20 
his forehead high and white2 his hair   
dark brown1 curling1 long1 and bushy4   
,his appearance in later life is        
described as singularly combining the   
appearances of premature age and        
prolonged youth4  ,the only art in which
 his taste appears to have been         
developed was poetry4 ,even in his      
poetry1 taken as a whole1 the artistic  
element is not generally very manifest4 
,his earliest verses 7none of which are 
included in his collected works7 can    
hardly be said to be good in any sense4 
,he seems in these to have chosen poetry
 as a fitting material for the          
embodiment of his ardent1 hopeful1      
indignant thoughts and feelings1 but1   
provided he can say what he wants to    
say1 does not seem to care much about   
how he says it4 ,indeed1 there is too   
much of this throughout his works2 for  
if the utterance1 instead of the        

conveyance of thought1 were the object  
pursued in art1 of course not merely    
imperfection of language1 but absolute  
external unintelligibility1 would be    
admissible4 ,but his art constantly     
increases with his sense of its         
necessity2 so that the ,cenci1 which is 
the last work of any pretension that he 
wrote1 is decidedly the most artistic of
 all4 ,there are beautiful passages in  
,queen ,mab1 but it is the work of a    
boy-poet2 and as it was all but         
repudiated by himself1 it is not        
necessary to remark further upon it4    
,the ,revolt of ,islam is a poem of     
twelve cantos1 in the ,spenserian       
stanza2 but in all respects except the  
arrangement of lines and rimes1 his     
stanza1 in common with all other        
imitations of the ,spenserian1 has      
little or nothing of the spirit or      
individuality of the original4 ,the poem
 is dedicated to the cause of freedom1  
and records the efforts1 successes1     
defeats1 and final triumphant death of  

two inspired champions of liberty--a    
youth and maiden4 ,the adventures are   
marvellous1 not intended to be within   
the bounds of probability1 scarcely of  
possibility4 ,there are very noble      
sentiments and fine passages throughout 
the poem4 ,now and then there is        
grandeur4 ,but the absence of art is too
 evident in the fact that the meaning is
 often obscure2 an obscurity not        
unfrequently occasioned by the          
difficulty of the stanza1 which is the  
most difficult mode of composition in   
,english1 except the rigid sonnet4 ,the 
words and forms he employs to express   
thought seem sometimes mechanical       
devices for that purpose1 rather than an
 utterance which suggested itself       
naturally to a mind where the thought   
was vitally present4 ,the words are more
 a clothing for the thought than an     
embodiment of it4 ,they do not lie near 
enough to the thing which is intended to
 be represented by them4 ,it is1        
however1 but just to remark1 that some  

of the obscurity is owing to the fact1  
that1 even with ,mrs4 ,shelley's        
superintendence1 the works have not yet 
been satisfactorily edited1 or at least 
not conducted through the press with    
sufficient care4 ,footnote3 ,this       
statement is no longer true4  ,the      
,cenci is a very powerful tragedy1 but  
unfitted for public representation by   
the horrible nature of the historical   
facts upon which it is founded4 ,in the 
execution of it1 however1 ,shelley has  
kept very much nearer to nature than in 
any other of his works4 ,he has rigidly 
adhered to his perception of artistic   
propriety in respect to the dramatic    
utterance4 ,it may be doubted whether   
there is sufficient difference between  
the modes of speech of the different    
actors in the tragedy1 but it is quite  
possible to individualize speech far too
 minutely for probable nature2 and in   
this respect1 at least1 ,shelley has not
 erred4 ,perhaps the action of the whole
 is a little hurried1 and a central     

moment of awful repose and fearful      
anticipation might add to the force of  
the tragedy4 ,the scenes also might1    
perhaps1 have been constructed so as to 
suggest more of evolution2 but the      
central point of horror is most         
powerfully and delicately handled4 ,you 
see a possible spiritual horror yet     
behind1 more frightful than all that has
 gone before4 ,the whole drama1 indeed1 
is constructed around1 not a prominent  
point1 but a dim1 infinitely-withdrawn1 
underground perspective of dismay and   
agony4 ,perhaps it detracts a little    
from our interest in the ,lady          
,beatrice1 that after all she should    
wish to live1 and should seek to        
preserve her life by a denial of her    
crime4 ,she1 however1 evidently         
justifies the denial to herself on the  
ground that1 the deed being absolutely  
right1 although regarded as most        
criminal by her judges1 the only way to 
get true justice is to deny the fact1   
which1 there being no guilt1 she might  

consider as only a verbal lie4 ,her very
 purity of conscience enables her to    
utter this with the most absolute       
innocence of look1 and word1 and tone4  
,this is probably a historical fact1 and
 ,shelley had to make the best of it4   
,in the drama there is great tenderness1
 as well as terror2 but for a full      
effect1 one feels it desirable to be    
brought better acquainted with the      
individuals than the drama1 from its    
want of graduation1 permits4 ,shelley1  
however1 was only six-and-twenty when he
 wrote it4 ,he must have been attracted 
to the subject by its embodying the     
concentration of tyranny1 lawlessness1  
and brutality in old ,cenci1 as opposed 
to1 and exercised upon1 an ideal        
loveliness and nobleness in the person  
of ,beatrice4  ,but of all ,shelley's   
works1 the ,prometheus ,unbound is that 
which combines the greatest amount of   
individual power and peculiarity4 ,there
 is an airy grandeur about it1 reminding
 one of the vast masses of cloud        

scattered about in broken1 yet          
magnificently suggestive forms1 all over
 the summer sky1 after a thunderstorm4  
,the fundamental ideas are grand2 the   
superstructure1 in many parts1 so       
ethereal1 that one hardly knows whether 
he is gazing on towers of solid masonry 
rendered dim and unsubstantial by       
intervening vapour1 or upon the golden  
turrets of cloudland1 themselves born of
 the mist which surrounds them with a   
halo of glory4 ,the beings of ,greek1   
mythology are idealized and etherealized
 by the new souls which he puts into    
them1 making them think his thoughts and
 say his words4 ,in reading this1 as in 
reading most of his poetry1 we feel     
that1 unable to cope with the evils and 
wrongs of the world as it and they are1 
he constructs a new universe1 wherein he
 may rule according to his will2 and a  
good will in the main it is--good always
 in intent1 good generally in form and  
utterance4 ,of the wrongs which ,shelley
 endured from the collision and         

resulting conflict between his lawless  
goodness and the lawful wickedness of   
those in authority1 this is one of the  
greatest1--that during the right period 
of pupillage1 he was driven from the    
place of learning1 cast on his own      
mental resources long before those      
resources were sufficient for his       
support1 and irritated against the      
purest embodiment of good by the harsh  
treatment he received under its name4   
,if that reverence which was far from   
wanting to his nature1 had been but     
presented1 in the person of some guide  
to his spiritual being1 with an object  
worthy of its homage and trust1 it is   
probable that the yet free and noble    
result of ,shelley's individuality would
 have been presented to the world in a  
form which1 while it attracted still    
only the few1 would not have repelled   
the many2 at least1 not by such things  
as were merely accidental in their      
association with his earnest desires and
 efforts for the well-being of humanity4

  ,that which chiefly distinguishes     
,shelley from other writers is the      
unequalled exuberance of his fancy4 ,the
 reader1 say for instance of that       
fantastically brilliant poem1 ,the      
,witch of ,atlas1 the work of three     
days1 is overwhelmed in a storm1 as it  
were1 of rainbow snow-flakes and        
many-coloured lightnings1 accompanied   
ever by 8a low melodious thunder40  ,the
 evidences of pure imagination in his   
writings are unfrequent as compared with
 those of fancy3 there are not half the 
instances of the direct embodiment of   
idea in form1 that there are of the     
presentation of strange resemblances    
between external things4  ,one of the   
finest short specimens of ,shelley's    
peculiar mode is his ,ode to the ,west  
,wind1 full of mysterious melody of     
thought and sound4 ,but of all his      
poems1 the most popular1 and deservedly 
so1 is the ,skylark4 ,perhaps the ,cloud
 may contest it with the ,skylark in    
regard to popular favour2 but the       

,cloud1 although full of beautiful words
 and fantastic cloud-like images1 is1   
after all1 principally a work of the    
fancy2 while the ,skylark1 though even  
in it fancy predominates over           
imagination in the visual images1 forms1
 as a whole1 a lovely1 true1 individual 
work of art2 a lyric not unworthy of the
 lark1 which ,mason apostrophizes as    
8sweet feathered lyric40 ,the strain of 
sadness which pervades it is only enough
 to make the song of the lark human4    
,in ,the ,sensitive ,plant1 a poem full 
of the peculiarities of his genius1     
tending through a wilderness of fanciful
 beauties to a thicket of mystical      
speculation1 one curious idiosyncrasy is
 more prominent than in any             
other--curious1 as belonging to the poet
 of beauty and loveliness3 it is the    
tendency to be fascinated by what is    
ugly and revolting1 so that he cannot   
withdraw his thoughts from it till he   
has described it in language1 powerful1 
it is true1 and poetic1 when considered 

as to its fitness for the desired end1  
but1 in force of these very excellences 
in the means1 nearly as revolting as the
 objects themselves4 ,associated with   
this is the tendency to discover        
strangely unpleasant likenesses between 
things2 which likenesses he is not      
content with seeing1 but seems          
compelled1 perhaps in order to get rid  
of them himself1 to force upon the      
observation of his reader4 ,but the     
admirer of ,shelley is not pleased to   
find that one or two passages of this   
nature have been omitted in some        
editions of his works4  ,few men have   
been more misunderstood or              
misrepresented than ,shelley4 ,doubtless
 this has in part been his own fault1 as
 ,coleridge implies when he writes to   
this effect of him3 that his horror of  
hypocrisy made him speak in such a wild 
way1 that ,southey 7who was so much a   
man of forms and proprieties7 was quite 
misled1 not merely in his estimate of   
his worth1 but in his judgment of his   

character4 ,but setting aside this      
consideration altogether1 and regarding 
him merely as a poet1 ,shelley has      
written verse which will last as long as
 ,english literature lasts2 valuable not
 only from its excellence1 but from the 
peculiarity of its excellence4 ,to say  
nothing of his noble aims and hopes1    
,shelley will always be admired for his 
sweet melodies1 lovely pictures1 and    
wild prophetic imaginings4 ,his         
indignant remonstrances1 intermingled   
with grand imprecations1 burst in       
thunder from a heart overcharged with   
the love of his kind1 and roused to a   
keener sense of all oppression by the   
wrongs which sought to overwhelm        
himself4 ,but as he recedes further in  
time1 and men are able to see more truly
 the proportions of the man1 they will  
judge1 that without having gained the   
rank of a great reformer1 ,shelley had  
in him that element of wide sympathy and
 lofty hope for his kind which is       
essential both to the birth and the     

subsequent making of the greatest of    
poets4     ,a ,,sermon4   ,footnote3    
,read in the ,unitarian chapel1         
,essex-street1 ,london1 #ahgi4          
,,philippians iii4 #ae1 #af4--,let us   
therefore1 as many as be perfect1 be    
thus minded2 and if in anything ye be   
otherwise minded1 ,god shall reveal even
 this unto you4 ,nevertheless1 whereto  
we have already attained1 let us walk by
 that same4   ,this is the reading of   
the oldest manuscripts4 ,the rest of the
 verse is pretty clearly a not overwise 
marginal gloss that has crept into the  
text4  ,in its origin1 opinion is the   
intellectual body1 taken for utterance  
and presentation by something           
necessarily larger than any intellect   
can afford stuff sufficient for the     
embodiment of4 ,to the man himself1     
therefore1 in whose mind it arose1 an   
opinion will always represent and recall
 the spirit whose form it is1--so long1 
at least1 as the man remains true to his
 better self4 ,hence1 a man's opinion   

may be for him invaluable1 the needle of
 his moral compass1 always pointing to  
the truth whence it issued1 and whose   
form it is4 ,nor is the man's opinion of
 the less value to him that it may      
change4 ,nay1 to be of true value1 it   
must have in it not only the            
possibility1 but the necessity of       
change3 it must change in every man who 
is alive with that life which1 in the   
,new ,testament1 is alone treated as    
life at all4 ,for1 if a man's opinion be
 in no process of change whatever1 it   
must be dead1 valueless1 hurtful        
,opinion is the offspring of that which 
is itself born to grow2 which1 being    
imperfect1 must grow or die4 ,where     
opinion is growing1 its imperfections1  
however many and serious1 will do but   
little hurt2 where it is not growing1   
these imperfections will further the    
decay and corruption which must already 
have laid hold of the very heart of the 
man4 ,but it is plain in the world's    
history that what1 at some given stage  

of the same1 was the embodiment in      
intellectual form of the highest and    
deepest of which it was then spiritually
 capable1 has often and speedily become 
the source of the most frightful        
outrages upon humanity4 ,how is this8   
,because it has passed from the mind in 
which it grew into another in which it  
did not grow1 and has of necessity      
altered its nature4 ,itself sprung from 
that which was deepest in the man1 it   
casts seeds which take root only in the 
intellectual understanding of his       
neighbour2 and these1 springing up1     
produce flowers indeed which look much  
the same to the eye1 but fruit which is 
poison and bitterness1--worst of it all1
 the false and arrogant notion that it  
is duty to force the opinion upon the   
acceptance of others4 ,but it is because
 such men themselves hold with so poor a
 grasp the truth underlying their forms 
that they are1 in their                 
self-sufficiency1 so ambitious of       
propagating the forms1 making of        

themselves the worst enemies of the     
truth of which they fancy themselves the
 champions4 ,how truly1 in the case of  
all genuine teachers of men1 shall a    
man's foes be they of his own household6
 ,for of all the destroyers of the truth
 which any man has preached1 none have  
done it so effectually or so grievously 
as his own followers4 ,so many of them  
have received but the forms1 and know   
nothing of the truth which gave him     
those forms6 ,they lay hold but of the  
non-essential1 the specially perishing  
in those forms2 and these aspects1      
doubly false and misleading in their    
crumbling disjunction1 they proceed to  
force upon the attention and reception  
of men1 calling that the truth which is 
at best but the draggled and useless    
fringe of its earth-made garment4       
,opinions so held belong to the theology
 of hell1--not necessarily altogether   
false in form1 but false utterly in     
heart and spirit4 ,the opinion then that
 is hurtful is not that which is formed 

in the depths1 and from the honest      
necessities of a man's own nature1 but  
that which he has taken up at second    
hand1 the study of which has pleased his
 intellect2 has perhaps subdued fears   
and mollified distresses which ought    
rather to have grown and increased until
 they had driven the man to the true    
physician2 has puffed him up with a     
sense of superiority as false as        
foolish1 and placed in his hand a club  
with which to subjugate his neighbour to
 his spiritual dictation4 ,the true man 
even1 who aims at the perpetuation of   
his opinion1 is rather obstructing than 
aiding the course of that truth for the 
love of which he holds his opinion2 for 
truth is a living thing1 opinion is a   
dead thing1 and transmitted opinion a   
deadening thing4  ,let us look at ,st4  
,paul's feeling in this regard4 ,and1 in
 order that we may deprive it of none of
 its force1 let us note first the nature
 of the truth which he had just been    
presenting to his disciples1 when he    

follows it with the words of my text3-- 
,but what things were gain to me1 those 
,i counted loss for ,christ4  ,yea      
doubtless1 and ,i count all things but  
loss for the excellency of the knowledge
 of ,christ ,jesus my ,lord3 for whom ,i
 have suffered the loss of all things1  
and do count them but dung1 that ,i may 
win ,christ1  ,and be found in him1 not 
having mine own righteousness1 which is 
of the law1 but that which is through   
the faith of ,christ1 the righteousness 
which is of ,god by faith3  ,that ,i may
 know him1 and the power of his         
resurrection1 and the fellowship of his 
sufferings1 being made conformable unto 
his death2  ,if by any means ,i might   
attain unto the resurrection of the     
dead4  ,not as though ,i had already    
attained1 either were already perfect3  
but ,i follow after1 if that ,i may     
apprehend that for which also ,i am     
apprehended of ,christ ,jesus4          
,brethren1 ,i count not myself to have  
apprehended3 but this one thing ,i do1  

forgetting those things which are       
behind1 and reaching forth unto those   
things which are before1 ,i press toward
 the mark for the prize of the high     
calling of ,god in ,christ ,jesus4      
,st4 ,paul1 then1 had been declaring to 
the ,philippians the idea upon which1 so
 far as it lay with him1 his life was   
constructed1 the thing for which he     
lived1 to which the whole conscious     
effort of his being was                 
directed1--namely1 to be in his very    
nature one with ,christ1 to become      
righteous as he is righteous2 to die    
into his death1 so that he should no    
more hold the slightest personal        
relation to evil1 but be alive in every 
fibre to all that is pure1 lovely1      
loving1 beautiful1 perfect4 ,he had been
 telling them that he spent himself in  
continuous effort to lay hold upon that 
for the sake of which ,christ had laid  
hold on him4 ,this he declares the sole 
thing worth living for3 the hope of     
this1 the hope of becoming one with the 

living ,god1 is that which keeps a      
glorious consciousness awake in him1    
amidst all the unrest of a being not yet
 at harmony with itself1 and a laborious
 and persecuted life4 ,it cannot        
therefore be any shadow of indifference 
to the truth to which he has borne this 
witness1 that causes him to add1 8,if in
 anything ye be otherwise minded40 ,it  
is to him even the test of perfection1  
whether they be thus minded or not2 for1
 although a moment before1 he has       
declared himself short of the desired   
perfection1 he now says1 8,let as many  
of us as are perfect be thus minded40   
,there is here no room for that         
unprofitable thing1 bare logic3 we must 
look through the shifting rainbow of his
 words1--rather1 we must gather all     
their tints together1 then turn our     
backs upon the rainbow1 that we may see 
the glorious light which is the soul of 
it4 ,st4 ,paul is not that which he     
would be1 which he must be2 but he1 and 
all they who with him believe that the  

perfection of ,christ is the sole worthy
 effort of a man's life1 are in the     
region1 though not yet at the centre1 of
 perfection4 ,they are1 even now1 not   
indeed grasping1 but in the grasp of1   
that perfection4 ,he tells them this is 
the one thing to mind1 the one thing to 
go on desiring and labouring for1 with  
all the earnestness of a ,god-born      
existence2 but1 if any one be at all    
otherwise minded1--that is1 of a        
different opinion1--what then8 ,that it 
is of little or no consequence8 ,no1    
verily2 but of such endless consequence 
that ,god will himself unveil to them   
the truth of the matter4 ,this is       
,paul's faith1 not his opinion4 ,faith  
is that by which a man lives inwardly1  
and orders his way outwardly4 ,faith is 
the root1 belief the tree1 and opinion  
the foliage that falls and is renewed   
with the seasons4 ,opinion is1 at best1 
even the opinion of a true man1 but the 
cloak of his belief1 which he may indeed
 cast to his neighbour1 but not with the

 truth inside it3 that remains in his   
own bosom1 the oneness between him and  
his ,god4 ,st4 ,paul knows well--who    
better8--that by no argument1 the best  
that logic itself can afford1 can a man 
be set right with the truth2 that the   
spiritual perception which comes of     
hungering contact with the living       
truth--a perception which is in itself a
 being born again--can alone be the     
mediator between a man and the truth4   
,he knows that1 even if he could pass   
his opinion over bodily into the        
understanding of his neighbour1 there   
would be little or nothing gained       
thereby1 for the man's spiritual        
condition would be just what it was     
before4 ,god must reveal1 or nothing is 
known4 ,and this1 through thousands of  
difficulties occasioned by the man      
himself1 ,god is ever and always doing  
his mighty best to effect4  ,see the    
grandeur of redeeming liberality in the 
,apostle4 ,in his heart of hearts he    
knows that salvation consists in nothing

 else than being one with ,christ2 that 
the only life of every man is hid with  
,christ in ,god1 and to be found by no  
search anywhere else4 ,he believes that 
for this cause was he born into the     
world1--that he should give himself1    
heart and soul1 body and spirit1 to him 
who came into the world that he might   
bear witness to the truth4 ,he believes 
that for the sake of this1 and nothing  
less1--anything more there cannot       
be1--was the world1 with its endless    
glories1 created4 ,nay1 more than all1  
he believes that for this did the ,lord1
 in whose cross1 type and triumph of his
 self-abnegation1 he glories1 come into 
the world1 and live and die there4 ,and 
yet1 and yet1 he says1 and says plainly1
 that a man thinking differently from   
all this or at least1 quite unprepared  
to make this whole-hearted profession of
 faith1 is yet his brother in ,christ1  
in whom the knowledge of ,christ that he
 has will work and work1 the new leaven 
casting out the old leaven until he1    

too1 in the revelation of the ,father1  
shall come to the perfect stature of the
 fulness of ,christ4 ,meantime1 ,paul1  
the ,apostle1 must show due reverence to
 the halting and dull disciple4 ,he must
 and will make no demand upon him on the
 grounds of what he1 ,paul1 believes4   
,he is where he is1 and ,god is his     
teacher4 ,to his own ,master1--that is1 
,paul's ,master1 and not ,paul1--he     
stands4 ,he leaves him to the company of
 his ,master4 8,leaves him80 ,no3 that  
he does not2 that he will never do1 any 
more than ,god will leave him4 ,still   
and ever will he hold him and help him4 
,but how help him1 if he is not to press
 upon him his own larger and deeper and 
wiser insights8 ,the answer is ready3 he
 will press1 not his opinion1 not even  
the man's opinion1 but the man's own    
faith upon him4 8,o brother1 beloved of 
the ,father1 walk in the light1--in the 
light1 that is1 which is thine1 not     
which is mine2 in the light which is    
given to thee1 not to me3 thou canst not

 walk by my light1 ,i cannot walk by    
thine3 how should either walk except by 
the light which is in him8 ,o brother1  
what thou seest1 that do2 and what thou 
seest not1 that thou shalt see3 ,god    
himself1 the ,father of ,lights1 will   
show it to you40 ,this1 this is the     
condition of all growth1--that whereto  
we have attained1 we mind that same2 for
 such1 following the manuscripts1 at    
least the oldest1 seems to me the       
,apostle's meaning4 ,obedience is the   
one condition of progress1 and he       
entreats them to obey4 ,if a man will   
but work that which is in him1 will but 
make the power of ,god his own1 then is 
it well with him for evermore4 ,like his
 ,master1 ,paul urges to action1 to the 
highest operation1 therefore to the     
highest condition of humanity4 ,as      
,christ was the ,son of his ,father     
because he did the will of the ,father1 
so the ,apostle would have them the sons
 of the ,father by doing the will of the
 ,father4 ,whereto ye have attained1    

walk by that4  ,but there is more       
involved in this utterance than the     
words themselves will expressly carry4  
,next to his love to the ,father and the
 ,elder ,brother1 the passion of ,paul's
 life--,i cannot call it less--is love  
to all his brothers and sisters4        
,everything human is dear to him3 he can
 part with none of it4 ,division1       
separation1 the breaking of the body of 
,christ1 is that which he cannot endure4
 ,the body of his flesh had once been   
broken1 that a grander body might be    
prepared for him3 was it for that body  
itself to tear itself asunder8 ,with the
 whole energy of his great heart1 ,paul 
clung to unity4 ,he could clasp together
 with might and main the body of his    
,master--the body that ,master loved    
because it was a spiritual body1 with   
the life of his ,father in it4 ,and he  
knew well that only by walking in the   
truth to which they had attained1 could 
they ever draw near to each other4      
,whereto we have attained1 let us walk  

by that4  ,my honoured friends1 if we   
are not practical1 we are nothing4 ,now1
 the one main fault in the ,christian   
,church is separation1 repulsion1 recoil
 between the component particles of the 
,lord's body4 ,i will not1 ,i do not    
care to inquire who is more to blame    
than another in the evil fact4 ,i only  
care to insist that it is the duty of   
every individual man to be innocent of  
the same4 ,one main cause1 perhaps ,i   
should say the one cause of this deathly
 condition1 is that whereto we had1 we  
did not1 whereto we have attained1 we do
 not walk by that4 ,ah1 friend6 do not  
now think of thy neighbour4 ,do not     
applaud my opinion as just from what    
thou hast seen around thee1 but answer  
it from thy own being1 thy own          
behaviour4 ,dost thou ever feel thus    
toward thy neighbour1--8,yes1 of course1
 every man is my brother2 but how can ,i
 be a brother to him so long as he      
thinks me wrong in what ,i believe1 and 
so long as ,i think he wrongs in his    

opinions the dignity of the truth80     
,what1 ,i return1 has the man no hand to
 grasp1 no eyes into which yours may    
gaze far deeper than your vaunted       
intellect can follow8 ,is there not1 ,i 
ask1 anything in him to love8 ,who asks 
you to be of one opinion8 ,it is the    
,lord who asks you to be of one heart4  
,does the ,lord love the man8 ,can the  
,lord love1 where there is nothing to   
love8 ,are you wiser than he1 inasmuch  
as you perceive impossibility where he  
has failed to discover it8 ,or will you 
say1 8,let the ,lord love where he      
pleases3 ,i will love where ,i please08 
or say1 and imagine you yield1 8,well1  
,i suppose ,i must1 and therefore ,i    
will1--but with certain reservations1   
politely quiet in my own heart08 ,or    
wilt thou say none of all these things1 
but do them all1 one after the other1 in
 the secret chambers of thy proud       
spirit8 ,if you delight to condemn1 you 
are a wounder1 a divider of the oneness 
of ,christ4 ,if you pride yourself on   

your loftier vision1 and are haughty to 
your neighbour1 you are yourself a      
division and have reason to ask3 8,am ,i
 a particle of the body at all80 ,the   
,master will deal with thee upon the    
score4 ,let it humble thee to know that 
thy dearest opinion1 the one thou dost  
worship as if it1 and not ,god1 were thy
 ,saviour1 this very opinion thou art   
doomed to change1 for it cannot possibly
 be right1 if it work in thee for death 
and not for life4  ,friends1 you have   
done me the honour and the kindness to  
ask me to speak to you4 ,i will speak   
plainly4 ,i come before you neither     
hiding anything of my belief1 nor       
foolishly imagining ,i can transfer my  
opinions into your bosoms4 ,if there is 
one rle ,i hate1 it is that of the      
proselytizer4 ,but shall ,i not come to 
you as a brother to brethren8 ,shall ,i 
not use the privilege of your invitation
 and of the place in which ,i stand1    
nay1 must ,i not myself be obedient to  
the heavenly vision1 in urging you with 

all the power of my persuasion to set   
yourselves afresh to walk according to  
that to which you have attained4 ,so    
doing1 whatever yet there is to learn1  
you shall learn it4 ,thus doing1 and    
thus only1 can you draw nigh to the     
centre truth2 thus doing1 and thus only1
 shall we draw nigh to each other1 and  
become brothers and sisters in ,christ1 
caring for each other's honour and      
righteousness and true well-being4 ,it  
is to them that keep his commandments   
that he and his ,father will come to    
take up their abode with them4 ,whether 
you or ,i have the larger share of the  
truth in that which we hold1 of this ,i 
am sure1 that it is to them that keep   
his commandments that it shall be given 
to eat of the ,tree of ,life4 ,i believe
 that ,jesus is the eternal son of the  
eternal ,father2 that in him the ideal  
humanity sat enthroned from all         
eternity2 that as he is the divine man1 
so is he the human ,god2 that there was 
no taking of our nature upon himself1   

but the showing of himself as he really 
was1 and that from evermore3 these      
things1 friends1 ,i believe1 though     
never would ,i be guilty of what in me  
would be the irreverence of opening my  
mouth in dispute upon them4 ,not for a  
moment would ,i endeavour by argument to
 convince another of this1 my opinion4  
,if it be true1 it is ,god's work to    
show it1 for logic cannot4 ,but the     
more1 and not the less1 do ,i believe   
that he1 who is no respecter of persons1
 will1 least of all1 respect the person 
of him who thinks to please him by      
respecting his person1 calling him1     
8,lord1 ,lord10 and not doing the things
 that he tells him4 ,even if ,i be      
right1 friend1 and thou wrong1 to thee  
who doest his commandments more         
faithfully than ,i1 will the more       
abundant entrance be administered4 ,god 
grant that1 when thou art admitted      
first1 ,i may not be cast out1 but      
admitted to learn of thee that it is    
truth in the inward parts that he       

requireth1 and they that have that      
truth1 and they alone1 shall ever know  
wisdom4 ,bear with me1 friends1 for ,i  
love and honour you4 ,i seek but to stir
 up your hearts1 as ,i would daily stir 
up my own1 to be true to that which is  
deepest in us1--the voice and the will  
of the ,father of our spirits4          
,friends1 ,i have not said we are not to
 utter our opinions4 ,i have only said  
we are not to make those opinions the   
point of a fresh start1 the foundation  
of a new building1 the groundwork of    
anything4 ,they are not to occupy us in 
our dealings with our brethren4 ,opinion
 is often the very death of love4 ,love 
aright1 and you will come to think      
aright2 and those who think aright must 
think the same4 ,in the meantime1 it    
matters nothing4 ,the thing that does   
matter is1 that whereto we have         
attained1 by that we should walk4 ,but1 
while we are not to insist upon our     
opinions1 which is only one way of      
insisting upon ourselves1 however we may

 cloak the fact from ourselves in the   
vain imagination of thereby spreading   
the truth1 we are bound by loftiest duty
 to spread the truth2 for that is the   
saving of men4 ,do you ask1 ,how spread 
it1 if we are not to talk about it8     
,friends1 ,i never said1 ,do not talk   
about the truth1 although ,i insist upon
 a better and the only indispensable    
way3 let your light shine4 ,what ,i said
 before1 and say again1 is1 ,do not talk
 about the lantern that holds the lamp1 
but make haste1 uncover the light1 and  
let it shine4 ,let your light so shine  
before men that they may see your good  
works1--,i incline to the ,vatican      
reading of good things1--and glorify    
your ,father who is in heaven4 ,it is   
not1 ,let your good works shine1 but1   
,let your light shine4 ,let it be the   
genuine love of your hearts1 taking form
 in true deeds2 not the doing of good   
deeds to prove that your opinions are   
right4 ,if ye are thus true1 your very  
talk about the truth will be a good     

work1 a shining of the light that is in 
you4 ,a true smile is a good work1 and  
may do much to reveal the ,father who is
 in heaven2 but the smile that is put on
 for the sake of looking right1 or even 
for the sake of being right1 will hardly
 reveal him1 not being like him4 ,men   
say that you are cold3 if you fear it   
may be so1 do not think to make         
yourselves warm by putting on the cloak 
of this or that fresh opinion2 draw     
nearer to the central heat1 the living  
humanity of the ,son of ,man1 that ye   
may have life in yourselves1 so heat in 
yourselves1 so light in yourselves2     
understand him1 obey him1 then your     
light will shine1 and your warmth will  
warm4 ,there is an infection1 as in     
evil1 so in good4 ,the better we are1   
the more will men glorify ,god4 ,if we  
trim our lamps so that we have light in 
our house1 that light will shine through
 our windows1 and give light to those   
that are not in the house4 ,but         
remember1 love of the light alone can   

trim the lamp4 ,had ,love trimmed       
,psyche's lamp1 it had never dropped the
 scalding oil that scared him from her4 
,the man who holds his opinion the most 
honestly ought to see the most plainly  
that his opinion must change4 ,it is    
impossible a man should hold anything   
aright4 ,how shall the created embrace  
the self-existent ,creator8 ,that       
,creator1 and he alone1 is the truth3   
how1 then1 shall a man embrace the      
truth8 ,but to him who will live it1--to
 him1 that is1 who walks by that to     
which he has attained1--the truth will  
reach down a thousand true hands for his
 to grasp4 ,we would not wish to enclose
 that which we can do more than         
enclose1--live in1 namely1 as our home1 
inherit1 exult in1--the presence of the 
infinitely higher and better1 the heart 
of the living one4 ,and1 if we know that
 ,god himself is our inheritance1 why   
should we tremble even with hatred at   
the suggestion that we may1 that we     
must1 change our opinions8 ,if we held  

them aright1 we should know that nothing
 in them that is good can ever be lost2 
for that is the true1 whatever in them  
may be the false4 ,it is only as they   
help us toward ,god1 that our opinions  
are worth a straw2 and every necessary  
change in them must be to more truth1 to
 greater uplifting power4 ,lord1 change 
me as thou wilt1 only do not send me    
away4 ,that in my opinions for which ,i 
really hold them1 if ,i be a true man1  
will never pass away2 that which my     
evils and imperfections have1 in the    
process of embodying it1 associated with
 the truth1 must1 thank ,god1 perish and
 fall4 ,my opinions1 as my life1 as my  
love1 ,i leave in the hands of him who  
is my being4 ,i commend my spirit to him
 of whom it came4 ,why1 then1 that      
dislike to the very idea of such change1
 that dread of having to accept the     
thing offered by those whom we count our
 opponents1 which is such a             
stumbling-block in the way in which we  
have to walk1 such an obstruction to our

 yet inevitable growth8 ,it may be      
objected that no man will hold his      
opinions with the needful earnestness1  
who can entertain the idea of having to 
change them4 ,but the very objection    
speaks powerfully against such an       
overvaluing of opinion4 ,for what is it 
but to say that1 in order to be wise1 a 
man must consent to be a fool4 ,whatever
 must be1 a man must be able to look in 
the face4 ,it is because we cleave to   
our opinions rather than to the living  
,god1 because self and pride interest   
themselves for their own vile sakes with
 that which belongs only to the truth1  
that we become such fools of logic and  
temper that we lie in the prison-houses 
of our own fancies1 ideas1 and          
experiences1 shut the doors and windows 
against the entrance of the free spirit1
 and will not inherit the love of the   
,father4  ,yet1 for the help and comfort
 of even such a refuser as this1 ,i     
would say3 ,nothing which you reject can
 be such as it seems to you4 ,for a     

thing is either true or untrue3 if it be
 untrue1 it looks1 so far like itself   
that you reject it1 and with it we have 
nothing more to do2 but1 if it be true1 
the very fact that you reject it shows  
that to you it has not appeared         
true1--has not appeared itself4 ,the    
truth can never be even beheld but by   
the man who accepts it3 the thing1      
therefore1 which you reject1 is not that
 which it seems to you1 but a thing     
good1 and altogether beautiful1         
altogether fit for your gladsome        
embrace1--a thing from which you would  
not turn away1 did you see it as it is1 
but rush to it1 as ,dante says1 like the
 wild beast to his den1--so eager for   
the refuge of home4 ,no honest man holds
 a truth for the sake of that because of
 which another honest man rejects it3   
how it may be with the dishonest1 ,i    
have no confidence in my judgment1 and  
hope ,i am not bound to understand4     
,let us then1 my friends1 beware lest   
our opinions come between us and our    

,god1 between us and our neighbour1     
between us and our better selves4 ,let  
us be jealous that the human shall not  
obscure the divine4 ,for we are not mere
 human3 we1 too1 are divine2 and there  
is no such obliterator of the divine as 
the human that acts undivinely4 ,the one
 security against our opinions is to    
walk according to the truth which they  
contain4  ,and if men seem to us        
unreasonable1 opposers of that which to 
us is plainly true1 let us remember that
 we are not here to convince men1 but to
 let our light shine4 ,knowledge is not 
necessarily light2 and it is light1 not 
knowledge1 that we have to diffuse4 ,the
 best thing we can do1 infinitely the   
best1 indeed the only thing1 that men   
may receive the truth1 is to be         
ourselves true4 ,beyond all doing of    
good is the being good2 for he that is  
good not only does good things1 but all 
that he does is good4 ,above all1 let us
 be humble before the ,god of truth1    
faithfully desiring of him that truth in

 the inward parts which alone can enable
 us to walk according to that which we  
have attained4 ,may the ,god of peace   
give you his peace2 may the love of     
,christ constrain you2 may the gift of  
the ,holy ,spirit be yours4 ,amen4      
,,true ,,christian ,,ministering4       
,footnote3 ,a spoken sermon4  ,,matt4   
xx4 #be--bh--;,but ,jesus called them   
unto him and said1 ,ye know that the    
princes of the ,gentiles exercise       
dominion over them1 and they that are   
great exercise authority upon them4 ,but
 it should not be so among you3 but     
whosoever will be great among you1 let  
him be your minister2 and whosoever will
 be chief among you1 let him be your    
servant3 even as the ,son of ,man came  
not to be ministered unto1 but to       
minister1 and to give his life a ransom 
for many4   ,how little this is         
believed6 ,people think1 if they think  
about it at all1 that this is very well 
in the church1 but1 as things go in the 
world1 it won't do4 ,at least1 their    

actions imply this1 for every man is    
struggling to get above the other4      
,every man would make his neighbour his 
footstool that he may climb upon him to 
some throne of glory which he has in his
 own mind4 ,there is a continual        
jostling1 and crowding1 and buzzing1 and
 striving to get promotion4 ,of course  
there are known and noble exceptions2   
but still1 there it is4 ,and yet we call
 ourselves 8,christians10 and we are    
,christians1 all of us1 thus far1 that  
the truth is within reach of us all1    
that it has come nigh to us1 talking to 
us at our door1 and even speaking in our
 hearts1 and yet this is the way in     
which we go on6 ,the ,lord said1 8,it   
shall not be so among you40 ,did he mean
 only his twelve disciples8 ,this was   
all that he had to say to them1         
but--thanks be to him6--he says the same
 to every one of us now4 8,it shall not 
be so among you3 that is not the way in 
my kingdom40 ,the people of the         
world--the people who live in the       

world--will always think it best to get 
up1 to have less and less of service to 
do1 more and more of service done to    
them4 ,the notion of rank in the world  
is like a pyramid2 the higher you go up1
 the fewer are there who have to serve  
those above them1 and who are served    
more than those underneath them4 ,all   
who are under serve those who are above1
 until you come to the apex1 and there  
stands some one who has to do no        
service1 but whom all the others have to
 serve4 ,something like that is the     
notion of position--of social standing  
and rank4 ,and if it be so in an        
intellectual way even--to say nothing of
 mere bodily service--if any man works  
to a position that others shall all look
 up to him and that he may have to look 
up to nobody1 he has just put himself   
precisely into the same condition as the
 people of whom our ,lord speaks--as    
those who exercise dominion and         
authority1 and really he thinks it a    
fine thing to be served4  ,but it is not

 so in the kingdom of heaven4 ,the      
figure there is entirely reversed4 ,as  
you may see a pyramid reflected in the  
water1 just so1 in a reversed way       
altogether1 is the thing to be found in 
the kingdom of ,god4 ,it is in this way3
 the ,son of ,man lies at the inverted  
apex of the pyramid2 he upholds1 and    
serves1 and ministers unto all1 and they
 who would be high in his kingdom must  
go near to him at the bottom1 to uphold 
and minister to all that they may or can
 uphold and minister unto4 ,there is no 
other law of precedence1 no other law of
 rank and position in ,god's kingdom4   
,and mind1 that is the kingdom4 ,the    
other kingdom passes away--it is a      
transitory1 ephemeral1 passing1 bad     
thing1 and away it must go4 ,it is only 
there on sufferance1 because in the mind
 of ,god even that which is bad         
ministers to that which is good2 and    
when the new kingdom is built the old   
kingdom shall pass away4  ,but the man  
who seeks this rank of which ,i have    

spoken1 must be honest to follow it4 ,it
 will not do to say1 8,i want to be     
great1 and therefore ,i will serve40 ,a 
man will not get at it so4 ,he may begin
 so1 but he will soon find that that    
will not do4 ,he must seek it for the   
truth's sake1 for the love of his       
fellows1 for the worship of ,god1 for   
the delight in what is good4 ,in the    
kingdom of heaven people do not think   
whether ,i am promoted1 or whether you  
are promoted4 ,they are so absorbed in  
the delight and glory of the goodness   
that is round about them1 that they     
learn not to think much about           
themselves4 ,it is the bad that is in us
 that makes us think about ourselves4   
,it is necessary for us1 because there  
is bad in us1 to think about ourselves1 
but as we go on we think less and less  
about ourselves1 until at last we are   
possessed with the spirit of the truth1 
the spirit of the kingdom1 and live in  
gladness and in peace4 ,we are prouder  
of our brothers and sisters than of     

ourselves2 we delight to look at them4  
,god looks at us1 and makes us what he  
pleases1 and this is what we must come  
to2 there is no escape from it4  ,but   
the ,lord says1 that 8the ,son of ,man  
came not to be ministered unto40  ,was  
he not ministered unto then8 ,ah6 he was
 ministered unto as never man was1 but  
he did not come for that4 ,even now we  
bring to him the burnt-offerings of our 
very spirits1 but he did not come for   
that4 ,it was to help us that he came4  
,we are told1 likewise1 that he is the  
express image of the ,father4 ,then what
 he does1 the ,father must do2 and he   
says himself1 when he is accused of     
breaking the ,sabbath by doing work on  
it1 8,my ,father worketh hitherto1 and  
,i work40 ,then this must be ,god's way 
too1 or else it could not have been     
,jesus's way4 ,it is ,god's way4 ,oh6 do
 not think that ,god made us with his   
hands1 and then turned us out to find   
out our own way4 ,do not think of him as
 being always over our heads1 merely    

throwing over us a wide-spread          
benevolence4 ,you can imagine the       
tenderness of a mother's heart who takes
 her child even from its beloved nurse  
to soothe and to minister to it1 and    
that is like ,god2 that is ,god4 ,his   
hand is not only over us1 but recollect 
what ,david said--8,his hand was upon   
me40 ,i wish we were all as good        
,christians as ,david was4 8,wherever ,i
 go10 he said1 8,god is there--beneath  
me1 before me1 his hand is upon me2 if  
,i go to sleep he is there2 when ,i go  
down to the dead he is there40          
,everywhere is ,god4 ,the earth         
underneath us is his hand upholding us4 
,footnote3 ,the waters are in the hollow
 of it4 ,every spring-fountain of       
gladness about us is his making and his 
delight4 ,he tends us and cares for us2 
he is close to us1 breathing into our   
nostrils the breath of life1 and        
breathing into our spirit this thought  
and that thought to make us look up and 
recognize the love and the care around  

us4 ,what a poor thing for the little   
baby would it be if it were to be       
constantly tended thus tenderly and     
preciously by its mother1 but if it were
 never to open its eyes to look up and  
see her mother's face bending over it4  
,a poor thing all its tending would be  
without that4 ,it is for that that the  
other exists2 it is by that that the    
other comes4 ,to recognize and know this
 loving-kindness1 and to stand up in it 
strong and glad2 this is the            
ministration of ,god unto us4 ,do you   
ever think 8,i could worship ,god if he 
was so-and-so80 ,do you imagine that    
,god is not as good1 as perfect1 as     
absolutely all-in-all as your thoughts  
can imagine8 ,aye1 you cannot come up to
 it2 do what you will you never will    
come up to it4 ,use all the symbols that
 we have in nature1 in human relations1 
in the family--all our symbols of grace 
and tenderness1 and loving-kindness     
between man and man1 and between man and
 woman1 and between woman and woman1 but

 you can never come up to the thought of
 what ,god's ministration is4 ,when our 
,lord came he just let us see how his   
,father was doing this always1 he 8came 
to give his life a ransom for many40 ,it
 was in giving his life a ransom for us 
that he died2 that was the consummation 
and crown of it all1 but it was his life
 that he gave for us--his whole being1  
his whole strength1 his whole           
energy--not alone his days of trouble   
and of toil1 but deeper than that1 he   
gave his whole being for us2 yea1 he    
even went down to death for us4  ,but   
how are we to learn this ministration8  
,i will tell you where it begins4 ,the  
most of us are forced to work2 if you do
 not see that the commonest things in   
life belong to the ,christian scheme1   
the plan of ,god1 you have got to learn 
it4 ,i say this is at the beginning4    
,most of us have to work1 and infinitely
 better is that for us than if we were  
not forced to work1 but not a very fine 
thing unless it goes to something       

farther4 ,we are forced to work2 and    
what is our work8 ,it is doing something
 for other people always4 ,it is doing2 
it is ministration in some shape or     
other4 ,all kind of work is a serving1  
but it may not be always ,christian     
service4 ,no4 ,some of us only work for 
our wages2 we must have them4 ,we       
starve1 and deserve to starve1 if we do 
not work to get them4 ,but we must go a 
little beyond that2 yes1 a very great   
way beyond that4 ,there is no honest    
work that one man does for another which
 he may not do as unto the ,lord and not
 unto men2 in which he cannot do right  
as he ought to do right4 ,thus1 ,i say  
that the man who sees the commonest     
thing in the world1 recognizing it as   
part of the divine order of things1 the 
law by which the world goes1 being the  
intention of ,god that one man should be
 serviceable and useful to another--the 
man1 ,i say1 who does a thing well      
because of this1 and who tries to do it 
better1 is doing ,god service4  ,we talk

 of 8divine service40 ,it is a miserable
 name for a great thing4 ,it is not     
service1 properly speaking1 at all4     
,when a boy comes to his father and     
says1 8,may ,i do so and so for you80   
or1 rather1 comes and breaks out in some
 way1 showing his love to his           
father--says1 8,may ,i come and sit     
beside you8 ,may ,i have some of your   
books8 ,may ,i come and be quiet a      
little in your room80 what would you    
think of that boy if he went and said1  
8,i have been doing my father a         
service40 ,so with praying to and       
thanking ,god1 do you call that serving 
,god8 ,if it is not serving yourselves  
it is worth nothing2 if it is not the   
best condition you can find yourselves  
in1 you have to learn what it is yet4   
,not so2 the work you have to do        
to-morrow in the counting-house1 in the 
shop1 or wherever you may be1 is that by
 which you are to serve ,god4 ,do it    
with a high regard1 and then there is   
nothing mean in it2 but there is        

everything mean in it if you are        
pretending to please people when you    
only look for your wages4 ,it is mean   
then2 but if you have regard to doing a 
thing nobly1 greatly1 and truly1 because
 it is the work that ,god has given you 
to do1 then you are doing the divine    
service4  ,of course1 this goes a great 
deal farther4 ,we have endless          
opportunities of showing ourselves      
neighbours to the man who comes near us4
 ,that is the divine service2 that is   
the reality of serving ,god4 ,the others
 ought to be your reward1 if 8reward0 is
 a word that can be used in such a      
relation at all4 ,go home and speak to  
,god2 nay1 hold your tongue1 and quietly
 go to him in the secret recesses of    
your own heart1 and know that ,god is   
there4 ,say1 8,god has given me this    
work to do1 and ,i am doing it20 and    
that is your joy1 that is your refuge1  
that is your going to heaven4 ,it is not
 service4 ,the words 8divine service10  
as they are used1 always move me to     

something of indignation4 ,it is perfect
 paganism2 it is looking to please ,god 
by gathering together your              
services1--something that is supposed to
 be service to him4 ,he is serving us   
for ever1 and our ,lord says1 8,if ,i   
have washed your feet1 so you ought to  
wash one another's feet40 ,this will be 
the way in which to minister for some4  
,but still1 when we are beginning to    
learn this1 some of us are looking about
 us in a blind kind of way1 thinking1   
8,i wish ,i could serve ,god2 ,i do not 
know what to do6 ,how is it to be begun8
 ,what is it at the root of it8 ,what   
shall ,i find out to do8 ,where is there
 something to do80  ,now1 first of all1 
service is obedience1 or it is nothing4 
,this is what ,i would gladly impress   
upon you2 upon every young man who has  
come to the point to be able to receive 
it4 ,there is a tendency in us to think 
that there is something degrading in    
obedience1 something degrading in       
service4 ,according to the social       

judgment there is2 according to the     
judgment of the earth there is4 ,not so 
according to the judgment of heaven1 for
 ,god would only have us do the very    
thing he is doing himself4 ,you may see 
the tendency of this nowadays4 ,there is
 scarcely a young man who will speak of 
his 8master40 ,he feels as if there is  
something that hurts his dignity in     
doing so4 ,he does just what so many    
theologians have done about ,god1 who1  
instead of taking what our ,lord has    
given us1 talk about ,god as 8the       
,governor of the ,universe40 ,so a young
 man talks about his master as 8the     
governor20 nay1 he even talks of his own
 father in that way1 and then you come  
in another region altogether1 and a     
worse one4 ,i take these things as      
symptoms1 mind4 ,i know habits may be   
picked up1 when they get common1 without
 any great corresponding feeling2 but a 
wrong habit tends always to a wrong     
feeling1 and if a man cannot learn to   
honour his father1 so as to be able to  

call him 8father10 ,i think one or the  
other of them is greatly to blame1      
whether the father or the son ,i cannot 
say4 ,i know there are such parents that
 to tell their children that ,god is    
their 8,father0 is no help to them1 but 
the contrary4 ,i heard of a lady just   
the other day to whom1 in trying to     
comfort her1 some one said1 8,remember  
,god is your ,father40 8,do not mention 
the name #8father' to me10 she said4    
,ah6 that kind of fault does not lie in 
,god1 but in those who1 not being like  
him1 cannot use the names aright which  
belong to him4  ,but now1 as to this    
service1 this obedience4 ,our ,lord came
 to give his life a ransom for the many1
 and to minister unto all in obedience  
to his ,father's will4 ,we call him     
equal with ,god--at least1 most of us   
here1 ,i suppose1 do2 of course we do   
not pretend to explain2 we know that    
,god is greater than he1 because he said
 so2 but somehow1 we can worship him    
with our ,god1 and we need not try to   

distinguish more than is necessary about
 it4 ,but do you think that he was less 
divine than the ,father when he was     
obedient8 ,observe his obedience to the 
will of his ,father4 ,he was not the    
ruler there4 ,he did not give the       
commands2 he obeyed them4 ,and yet we   
say ,he is ,god6 ,ah1 that is no        
difficulty to me4 ,obedience is as      
divine in its essence as command2 nay1  
it may be more divine in the human being
 far2 it cannot be more divine in ,god1 
but obedience is far more divine in its 
essence with regard to humanity than    
command is4 ,it is not the ruling being 
who is most like ,god2 it is the man who
 ministers to his fellow1 who is like   
,god2 and the man who will just sternly 
and rigidly do what his master tells    
him--be that master what he may--who is 
likest ,christ in that one particular   
matter4 ,obedience is the grandest thing
 in the world to begin with4 ,yes1 and  
we shall end with it too4 ,i do not     
think the time will ever come when we   

shall not have something to do1 because 
we are told to do it without knowing    
why4 ,those parents act most foolishly  
who wish to explain everything to their 
children--most foolishly4 ,no2 teach    
your child to obey1 and you give him the
 most precious lesson that can be given 
to a child4 ,let him come to that before
 you have had him long1 to do what he is
 told1 and you have given him the       
plainest1 first1 and best lesson that   
you can give him4 ,if he never goes to  
school at all he had better have that   
lesson than all the schooling in the    
world4 ,hence1 when some people are     
accustomed to glorify this age of ours  
as being so much better in everything   
than those which went before1 ,i look   
back to the times of chivalry1 which we 
regard now1 almost1 as a thing to laugh 
at1 or a merry thing to make jokes      
about2 but ,i find that the one         
essential of chivalry was obedience4 ,it
 is recognized in our army still1 but in
 those times it was carried much        

farther4 ,when a boy was seven years old
 he was sent into another family1 and   
put with another boy there to do what8  
,to wait with him upon the master and   
the mistress of the house1 and to be    
taught1 as well1 what few things they   
knew in those times in the way of       
intellectual cultivation4 ,but he also  
learned stern1 strict obedience1 such as
 it was impossible for him to forget4   
,then1 when he had been there seven     
years1 hard at work1 standing behind the
 chair1 and ministering1 he was advanced
 a step2 and what was that step8 ,he was
 made an esquire4 ,he had his armour    
given him2 he had to watch his armour in
 the chapel all night1 laying it on the 
altar in silent devotion to ,god4 ,i do 
not say that all these things were      
carried out afterwards1 but this was the
 idea of them4 ,he was an esquire1 and  
what was the duty of an esquire8 ,more  
service2 more important service4 ,he    
still had to attend to his master1 the  
knight4 ,he had to watch him2 he had to 

groom his horse for him2 he had to see  
that his horse was sound2 he had to     
clean his armour for him2 to see that   
every bolt1 every rivet1 every strap1   
every buckle was sound1 for the life of 
his master was in his hands4 ,the       
master1 having to fight1 must not be    
troubled with these things1 and         
therefore the squire had to attend to   
them4 ,then seven years after that a    
more solemn ceremony is gone through1   
and the squire is made a knight2 but is 
he free of service then8 ,no2 he makes a
 solemn oath to help everybody who needs
 help1 especially women and children1   
and so he rides out into the world to do
 the work of a true man4 ,there was a   
grand and essential idea of             
,christianity in that--no doubt         
wonderfully broken and shattered1 but   
not more so than the ,christian church  
has been2 wonderfully broken and        
shattered1 but still the essence of     
obedience2 and ,i say it is recognized  
in our army still1 and in every army2   

and where it is lost it is a terrible   
loss1 and an army is worth nothing      
without it4 ,you remember that terrible 
story from the ,east1 that fearful      
death-charge1 one of the grandest things
 in our history1 although one of the    
most blundering3--    8,theirs not to   
make reply1   ,theirs not to reason why1
   ,theirs but to do and die2   ,into   
the valley of death        ,rode the    
,six ,hundred40  ,so with the ,christian
 man2 whatever meets him1 obedience is  
the thing4 ,if he is told by his        
conscience1 which is the candle of ,god 
within him1 that he must do a thing1 why
 he must do it4 ,he may tremble from    
head to foot at having to do it1 but he 
will tremble more if he turns his back4 
,you recollect how our old poet ,spenser
 shows us the ,knight of the ,red       
,cross1 who is the knight of holiness1  
ill in body1 diseased in mind1 without  
any of his armour on1 attacked by a     
fearful giant4 ,what does he do8 ,run   
away8 ,no1 he has but time to catch up  

his sword1 and1 trembling in every limb1
 he goes on to meet the giant2 and that 
is the thing that every ,christian man  
must do4 ,i cannot put it too strongly2 
it is impossible4 ,there is no escape   
from it4 ,if death itself lies before   
us1 and we know it1 there is nothing to 
be said2 it is all to be done1 and then 
there is no loss2 everything else is all
 lost unto ,god4 ,look at our ,lord4 ,he
 gave his life to do the will of his    
,father1 and on he went and did it4 ,do 
you think it was easy for him--easier   
for him than it would have been for us8 
,ah6 the greater the man the more       
delicate and tender his nature1 and the 
more he shrinks from the opposition even
 of his fellowmen1 because he loves     
them4 ,it was a terrible thing for      
,christ4 ,even now and then1 even in the
 little touches that come to us in the  
scanty story 7though enough7 this breaks
 out4 8,we are told by ,john that at the
 ,last ,supper ,he was troubled in      
spirit1 and testified40 ,and then how he

 tries to comfort himself as soon as    
,judas has gone out to do the thing     
which was to finish his great work3     
8,now is the ,son of ,man glorified1 and
 ,god is glorified in him4 ,if ,god be  
glorified in him1 ,god shall also       
glorify him in himself40 ,then he       
adds1--just gathering up his            
strength1--8,i shall straightway glorify
 him40 ,this was said to his disciples1 
but ,i seem to see in it that some of it
 was said for himself4 ,this is the     
grand obedience6 ,oh1 friends1 this is a
 hard lesson to learn4 ,we find every   
day that it is a hard thing to teach4   
,we are continually grumbling because we
 cannot get the people about us1 our    
servants1 our tradespeople1 or whoever  
they may be1 to do just what we tell    
them4 ,it makes half the misery in the  
world because they will have something  
of their own in it against what they are
 told4 ,but are we not always doing the 
same thing8 and ought we not to learn   
something of forgiveness for them1 and  

very much from the fact that we are just
 in the same position8 ,we only         
recognize in part that we are put here  
in this world precisely to learn to be  
obedient4 ,he who is our ,lord and our  
,god went on being obedient all the     
time1 and was obedient always2 and ,i   
say it is as divine for us to obey as it
 is for ,god to rule4 ,as ,i have said  
already1 ,god is ministering the whole  
time4 ,now1 do you want to know how to  
minister8 ,begin by obeying4 ,obey every
 one who has a right to command you2 but
 above all1 look to what our ,lord has  
said1 and find out what he wants you to 
do out of what he left behind1 and try  
whether obedience to that will not give 
a consciousness of use1 of ministering1 
of being a part of the grand scheme and 
way of ,god in this world4 ,in fact1    
take your place in it as a vital portion
 of the divine kingdom1 or--to use a    
better figure than that--a vital portion
 of the ,godhead4 ,try it1 and see      
whether obedience is not salvation2     

whether service is not dignity2 whether 
you will not feel in yourselves that you
 have begun to be cleansed from your    
plague when you begin to say1 8,i will  
seek no more to be above my fellows1 but
 ,i will seek to minister to them1 doing
 my work in ,god's name for them40      
8,who sweeps a room as for ,thy law1    
,makes that and the action fine40  ,both
 the room and the action are good when  
done for ,god's sake4 ,that is dear old 
,george ,herbert's way of saying the    
same truth1 for every man has his own   
way of saying it4 ,the gift of the      
,spirit of ,god to make you think as    
,god thinks1 feel as ,god feels1 judge  
as ,god judges1 is just the one thing   
that is promised4 ,i do not know        
anything else that is promised          
positively but that1 and who dares pray 
for anything else with perfect          
confidence8 ,god will not give us what  
we pray for except it be good for us1   
but that is one thing that we must have 
or perish4 ,therefore1 let us pray for  

that1 and with the name of ,god dwelling
 in us--if this is not true1 the whole  
world is a heap of ruins--let us go     
forth and do this service of ,god in    
ministering to our fellows1 and so      
helping him in his work of upholding1   
and glorifying and saving all4     ,,the
 ,,fantastic ,,imagination   ,that we   
have in ,english no word corresponding  
to the ,german ,mhrchen1 drives us to   
use the word ,fairytale1 regardless of  
the fact that the tale may have nothing 
to do with any sort of fairy4 ,the old  
use of the word ,fairy1 by ,spenser at  
least1 might1 however1 well be adduced1 
were justification or excuse necessary  
where need must4  ,were ,i asked1 what  
is a fairytale8 ,i should reply1 ,read  
,undine3 that is a fairytale2 then read 
this and that as well1 and you will see 
what is a fairytale4 ,were ,i further   
begged to describe the fairytale1 or    
define what it is1 ,i would make answer1
 that ,i should as soon think of        
describing the abstract human face1 or  

stating what must go to constitute a    
human being4 ,a fairytale is just a     
fairytale1 as a face is just a face2 and
 of all fairytales ,i know1 ,i think    
,undine the most beautiful4  ,many a    
man1 however1 who would not attempt to  
define a man1 might venture to say      
something as to what a man ought to be3 
even so much ,i will not in this place  
venture with regard to the fairytale1   
for my long past work in that kind might
 but poorly instance or illustrate my   
now more matured judgment4 ,i will but  
say some things helpful to the reading1 
in right-minded fashion1 of such        
fairytales as ,i would wish to write1 or
 care to read4  ,some thinkers would    
feel sorely hampered if at liberty to   
use no forms but such as existed in     
nature1 or to invent nothing save in    
accordance with the laws of the world of
 the senses2 but it must not therefore  
be imagined that they desire escape from
 the region of law4 ,nothing lawless can
 show the least reason why it should    

exist1 or could at best have more than  
an appearance of life4  ,the natural    
world has its laws1 and no man must     
interfere with them in the way of       
presentment any more than in the way of 
use2 but they themselves may suggest    
laws of other kinds1 and man may1 if he 
pleases1 invent a little world of his   
own1 with its own laws2 for there is    
that in him which delights in calling up
 new forms--which is the nearest1       
perhaps1 he can come to creation4 ,when 
such forms are new embodiments of old   
truths1 we call them products of the    
,imagination2 when they are mere        
inventions1 however lovely1 ,i should   
call them the work of the ,fancy3 in    
either case1 ,law has been diligently at
 work4  ,his world once invented1 the   
highest law that comes next into play   
is1 that there shall be harmony between 
the laws by which the new world has     
begun to exist2 and in the process of   
his creation1 the inventor must hold by 
those laws4 ,the moment he forgets one  

of them1 he makes the story1 by its own 
postulates1 incredible4 ,to be able to  
live a moment in an imagined world1 we  
must see the laws of its existence      
obeyed4 ,those broken1 we fall out of   
it4 ,the imagination in us1 whose       
exercise is essential to the most       
temporary submission to the imagination 
of another1 immediately1 with the       
disappearance1 of ,law1 ceases to act4  
,suppose the gracious creatures of some 
childlike region of ,fairyland talking  
either cockney or ,gascon6 ,would not   
the tale1 however lovelily begun1 sink  
at once to the level of the             
,burlesque--of all forms of literature  
the least worthy8 ,a man's inventions   
may be stupid or clever1 but if he do   
not hold by the laws of them1 or if he  
make one law jar with another1 he       
contradicts himself as an inventor1 he  
is no artist4 ,he does not rightly      
consort his instruments1 or he tunes    
them in different keys4 ,the mind of man
 is the product of live ,law2 it thinks 

by law1 it dwells in the midst of law1  
it gathers from law its growth2 with    
law1 therefore1 can it alone work to any
 result4 ,inharmonious1 unconsorting    
ideas will come to a man1 but if he try 
to use one of such1 his work will grow  
dull1 and he will drop it from mere lack
 of interest4 ,law is the soil in which 
alone beauty will grow2 beauty is the   
only stuff in which ,truth can be       
clothed2 and you may1 if you will1 call 
,imagination the tailor that cuts her   
garments to fit her1 and ,fancy his     
journeyman that puts the pieces of them 
together1 or perhaps at most embroiders 
their button-holes4 ,obeying law1 the   
maker works like his creator2 not       
obeying law1 he is such a fool as heaps 
a pile of stones and calls it a church4 
,in the moral world it is different3    
there a man may clothe in new forms1 and
 for this employ his imagination freely1
 but he must invent nothing4 ,he may    
not1 for any purpose1 turn its laws     
upside down4 ,he must not meddle with   

the relations of live souls4 ,the laws  
of the spirit of man must hold1 alike in
 this world and in any world he may     
invent4 ,it were no offence to suppose a
 world in which everything repelled     
instead of attracted the things around  
it2 it would be wicked to write a tale  
representing a man it called good as    
always doing bad things1 or a man it    
called bad as always doing good things3 
the notion itself is absolutely lawless4
 ,in physical things a man may invent2  
in moral things he must obey--and take  
their laws with him into his invented   
world as well4  8,you write as if a     
fairytale were a thing of importance3   
must it have a meaning80  ,it cannot    
help having some meaning2 if it have    
proportion and harmony it has vitality1 
and vitality is truth4 ,the beauty may  
be plainer in it than the truth1 but    
without the truth the beauty could not  
be1 and the fairytale would give no     
delight4 ,everyone1 however1 who feels  
the story1 will read its meaning after  

his own nature and development3 one man 
will read one meaning in it1 another    
will read another4  8,if so1 how am ,i  
to assure myself that ,i am not reading 
my own meaning into it1 but yours out of
 it80  ,why should you be so assured8   
,it may be better that you should read  
your meaning into it4 ,that may be a    
higher operation of your intellect than 
the mere reading of mine out of it3 your
 meaning may be superior to mine4       
8,suppose my child ask me what the      
fairytale means1 what am ,i to say80    
,if you do not know what it means1 what 
is easier than to say so8 ,if you do see
 a meaning in it1 there it is for you to
 give him4 ,a genuine work of art must  
mean many things2 the truer its art1 the
 more things it will mean4 ,if my       
drawing1 on the other hand1 is so far   
from being a work of art that it needs  
,,this ,,is ,a ,,horse written under it1
 what can it matter that neither you nor
 your child should know what it means8  
,it is there not so much to convey a    

meaning as to wake a meaning4 ,if it do 
not even wake an interest1 throw it     
aside4 ,a meaning may be there1 but it  
is not for you4 ,if1 again1 you do not  
know a horse when you see it1 the name  
written under it will not serve you     
much4 ,at all events1 the business of   
the painter is not to teach zoology4    
,but indeed your children are not likely
 to trouble you about the meaning4 ,they
 find what they are capable of finding1 
and more would be too much4 ,for my     
part1 ,i do not write for children1 but 
for the childlike1 whether of five1 or  
fifty1 or seventy-five4  ,a fairytale is
 not an allegory4 ,there may be allegory
 in it1 but it is not an allegory4 ,he  
must be an artist indeed who can1 in any
 mode1 produce a strict allegory that is
 not a weariness to the spirit4 ,an     
allegory must be ,mastery or ,moorditch4
  ,a fairytale1 like a butterfly or a   
bee1 helps itself on all sides1 sips at 
every wholesome flower1 and spoils not  
one4 ,the true fairytale is1 to my mind1

 very like the sonata4 ,we all know that
 a sonata means something2 and where    
there is the faculty of talking with    
suitable vagueness1 and choosing        
metaphor sufficiently loose1 mind may   
approach mind1 in the interpretation of 
a sonata1 with the result of a more or  
less contenting consciousness of        
sympathy4 ,but if two or three men sat  
down to write each what the sonata meant
 to him1 what approximation to definite 
idea would be the result8 ,little       
enough--and that little more than       
needful4 ,we should find it had roused  
related1 if not identical1 feelings1 but
 probably not one common thought4 ,has  
the sonata therefore failed8 ,had it    
undertaken to convey1 or ought it to be 
expected to impart anything defined1    
anything notionally recognizable8  8,but
 words are not music2 words at least are
 meant and fitted to carry a precise    
meaning60  ,it is very seldom indeed    
that they carry the exact meaning of any
 user of them6 ,and if they can be so   

used as to convey definite meaning1 it  
does not follow that they ought never to
 carry anything else4 ,words are live   
things that may be variously employed to
 various ends4 ,they can convey a       
scientific fact1 or throw a shadow of   
her child's dream on the heart of a     
mother4 ,they are things to put together
 like the pieces of a dissected map1 or 
to arrange like the notes on a stave4   
,is the music in them to go for nothing8
 ,it can hardly help the definiteness of
 a meaning3 is it therefore to be       
disregarded8 ,they have length1 and     
breadth1 and outline3 have they nothing 
to do with depth8 ,have they only to    
describe1 never to impress8 ,has nothing
 any claim to their use but the         
definite8 ,the cause of a child's tears 
may be altogether undefinable3 has the  
mother therefore no antidote for his    
vague misery8 ,that may be strong in    
colour which has no evident outline4 ,a 
fairytale1 a sonata1 a gathering storm1 
a limitless night1 seizes you and sweeps

 you away3 do you begin at once to      
wrestle with it and ask whence its power
 over you1 whither it is carrying you8  
,the law of each is in the mind of its  
composer2 that law makes one man feel   
this way1 another man feel that way4 ,to
 one the sonata is a world of odour and 
beauty1 to another of soothing only and 
sweetness4 ,to one1 the cloudy          
rendezvous is a wild dance1 with a      
terror at its heart2 to another1 a      
majestic march of heavenly hosts1 with  
,truth in their centre pointing their   
course1 but as yet restraining her      
voice4 ,the greatest forces lie in the  
region of the uncomprehended4  ,i will  
go farther4--,the best thing you can do 
for your fellow1 next to rousing his    
conscience1 is--not to give him things  
to think about1 but to wake things up   
that are in him2 or say1 to make him    
think things for himself4 ,the best     
,nature does for us is to work in us    
such moods in which thoughts of high    
import arise4 ,does any aspect of       

,nature wake but one thought8 ,does she 
ever suggest only one definite thing8   
,does she make any two men in the same  
place at the same moment think the same 
thing8 ,is she therefore a failure1     
because she is not definite8 ,is it     
nothing that she rouses the something   
deeper than the understanding--the power
 that underlies thoughts8 ,does she not 
set feeling1 and so thinking at work8   
,would it be better that she did this   
after one fashion and not after many    
fashions8 ,nature is mood-engendering1  
thought-provoking3 such ought the       
sonata1 such ought the fairytale to be4 
8,but a man may then imagine in your    
work what he pleases1 what you never    
meant60  ,not what he pleases1 but what 
he can4 ,if he be not a true man1 he    
will draw evil out of the best2 we need 
not mind how he treats any work of art6 
,if he be a true man1 he will imagine   
true things2 what matter whether ,i     
meant them or not8 ,they are there none 
the less that ,i cannot claim putting   

them there6 ,one difference between     
,god's work and man's is1 that1 while   
,god's work cannot mean more than he    
meant1 man's must mean more than he     
meant4 ,for in everything that ,god has 
made1 there is layer upon layer of      
ascending significance2 also he         
expresses the same thought in higher and
 higher kinds of that thought3 it is    
,god's things1 his embodied thoughts1   
which alone a man has to use1 modified  
and adapted to his own purposes1 for the
 expression of his thoughts2 therefore  
he cannot help his words and figures    
falling into such combinations in the   
mind of another as he had himself not   
foreseen1 so many are the thoughts      
allied to every other thought1 so many  
are the relations involved in every     
figure1 so many the facts hinted in     
every symbol4 ,a man may well himself   
discover truth in what he wrote2 for he 
was dealing all the time with things    
that came from thoughts beyond his own4 
8,but surely you would explain your idea

 to one who asked you80  ,i say again1  
if ,i cannot draw a horse1 ,i will not  
write ,,this ,,is ,a ,,horse under what 
,i foolishly meant for one4 ,any key to 
a work of imagination would be nearly1  
if not quite1 as absurd4 ,the tale is   
there1 not to hide1 but to show3 if it  
show nothing at your window1 do not open
 your door to it2 leave it out in the   
cold4 ,to ask me to explain1 is to say1 
8,roses6 ,boil them1 or we won't have   
them60 ,my tales may not be roses1 but  
,i will not boil them4  ,so long as ,i  
think my dog can bark1 ,i will not sit  
up to bark for him4  ,if a writer's aim 
be logical conviction1 he must spare no 
logical pains1 not merely to be         
understood1 but to escape being         
misunderstood2 where his object is to   
move by suggestion1 to cause to imagine1
 then let him assail the soul of his    
reader as the wind assails an aeolian   
harp4 ,if there be music in my reader1  
,i would gladly wake it4 ,let fairytale 
of mine go for a firefly that now       

flashes1 now is dark1 but may flash     
again4 ,caught in a hand which does not 
love its kind1 it will turn to an       
insignificant1 ugly thing1 that can     
neither flash nor fly4  ,the best way   
with music1 ,i imagine1 is not to bring 
the forces of our intellect to bear upon
 it1 but to be still and let it work on 
that part of us for whose sake it       
exists4 ,we spoil countless precious    
things by intellectual greed4 ,he who   
will be a man1 and will not be a child1 
must--he cannot help himself--become a  
little man1 that is1 a dwarf4 ,he will1 
however1 need no consolation1 for he is 
sure to think himself a very large      
creature indeed4  ,if any strain of my  
8broken music0 make a child's eyes      
flash1 or his mother's grow for a moment
 dim1 my labour will not have been in   
vain4