similar to other such at any other time. And the work of these great idealists is, therefore, always universal; not because it is not portrait, but because it is complete portrait down to the heart, which is the same in all ages."

Horatio and Laertes are drawn to contrast with Hamlet, and none of the other characters is strong enough to interfere with the dominating figure that is so weak in its greatness.

As one re-reads the inspired lines to make sure of one's impressions, it is impossible to withhold the mind from the spell of the tragedy. To analyze it seems heartless; as if one should moralize over the death of a beloved friend. We can say only that it is supremely great.

So with "Othello," that pitiful tragedy of hearts broken by villainy, with "King Lear," the tragedy of trust betrayed; the appeal to the sympathies is so strong that the critical faculties are set aside. The

power and excellence of the plays are shown by their effect upon ourselves, and in their immediate presence criticism is abashed as was the slave who dared not slay Marius in prison.

For the personality of Macbeth we have not the same feeling. He is an evil-doer from motives that do not palliate his crimes. He is without claim to clemency, and yet wins a certain respect by his very hardihood. Once entered upon the downward path, he goes dauntlessly on, though every reliance fails him, and when finally he stands with his back to the abyss he stakes all upon the last throw:

"Yet will I try the last :-before my body
I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
And damned be him that first cries Hold, enough."

This is the spirit of the English race in defeat, the spirit that has won praise even from the savage races, who fear death no more than do the English themselves; and

indeed it is unfair to call it English, for it belongs to the best races of man everywhere and even to some animals. It is the spirit of desperation that says to the world, "I am stronger to endure than are you to inflict." To put the matter plainly, there is in Macbeth the soul that "dies game," and this wins our sympathy despite our better judgment.

Perhaps the most marvelous quality in the Shakespeare tragedies is their unity in their diversity. In reading any one of them we feel it could have come from no other brain. In comparing them we find each unlike any other in treatment. We cannot conceive the limits of the soul that expresses itself with equal power through the grandeur of " Julius Cæsar," the pathos of "Lear," the subtlety of "Hamlet,” the force of "Macbeth" -to say nothing of any others. "All mankind's epitome

the words cannot be bettered.

And then comes the calm of evening, the

serenity of that strangely named play, "The Tempest," the romance of " Cymbeline," the beauty of the "Winter's Tale," to end fittingly a career that seems best typified by the sun in its course from faintest dawn through midday glory to the superb We who speak his mother tongue

sunset.

have reason to be thankful that we know

him directly and may receive his own thought in his own words.

CHAPTER XV

HIS CLOSING YEARS AND DEATH

After the turmoil of the tragedies there is restfulness in the last group of plays, which Professor Dowden styles "Romances ""Pericles" (only in part his),

Cymbeline," ""Tempest," and "Winter's Tale." Of these he says that their spirit is "that of serenity which results from fortitude, and the recognition of human frailty." They represent his farewell to the stage and to the world.

They have the breath of outdoors, as if the writer were in imagination already among the scenes of his boyhood, and they are as irresponsible as fairy tales, but fairy tales told by the wisest of men. Prospero in his island home has been so often com