XXIII.

HINTS ON THE STUDY OF SHAKSPEARE.

YOU

tell me that, much as you wish it were otherwise, you find Shakspeare very heavy reading, and you heartily wish you could feel some of the intense admiration with which all Shakspeare readers speak of his works. You are convinced that the man whom Goethe and Coleridge illustrated and Schiller translated, whom all the greatest authors united in honoring, must indeed be great and you tell me you have lately seen it noticed that the number of copies of Shakspeare taken out of the Manchester free library is greater than that of almost any other book; proving that not only the literati, the men who read Homer and Dante and Goethe, but that many of the artisan class delight in the works of him whom the Germans characteristically entitle "the myriadminded."

I will, then, in this letter, give you a few hints

set up, so to say, a few finger-posts in the route for you to travel over; the route, or one very similar to it, that all must have traveled over to their goal; which is the delight inspired by the beauty and aptness of the language, the depth of thought, the delineation of feelings of awe and mirth, of love and phrensy, combined in one vast picture.

And first you should clearly understand that your difficulty is not unique in this particular. You could as little, without artistic and architectural study, comprehend a cathedral in all the grandeur of its design and the loveliness of its details, or a great picture in its variety of excellences, as you can comprehend one of Shakspeare's vast life-pictures indeed the latter is the most difficult achievement of any; higher mental powers are taxed to comprehend such a play as Hamlet or Lear than are called into play to appreciate any art. And yet you would, I dare say, feel as helpless before, for instance, that grand picture of the Supper in Cana of Paul Veronese in the Louvre, where at the first glance we feel a dim sense of beauty, of lovely color, of graceful form, of animated expression; but without some explanation, without some acquired knowledge of art, we can

hardly advance much further. But when we analyze the painting in detail, and know that the musicians (I take the foreground first) are portraits of the great painters of the day, including such names as Tintoret and Titian; the guests on the left of the picture are all portraits of the great monarchs of a period of great monarchs,-Charles the Fifth and Francis the First, and Solyman "the Magnificent," we begin to feel that there is a historical greatness in the work, independent of artistic worth. Add to this the skill with which the painter has represented the preparation for a feast on the gallery in the background, thus combining (in dramatic language) subordinate scenes with the main plot of the play. Add to this the skillful introduction of severe lines of architecture on either side, to act as foils to the graceful shapes and flowing robes of the feasters; then consider the masterly drawing, the rich and yet subdued coloring. Add to this again the life thrown into every detail, down to the cat sharpening its claws upon the embossed sides of a silver vase, and the leash of hounds, one of which pulls away from his sleepy fellow as it eagerly watches the cat. Add to all this the solemn central figures;-and we then

begin to appreciate the work by degrees in its fullness. Last of all, perhaps, you feel that, however many anachronisms there may be—Italian architecture, kingly guests, modern musical instruments in a sacred subject-yet it is a thoroughly perfect and complete picture, conveying the impression that thus He would have appeared among men at rich men's tables, had He come in later times: and as we remember this, the anachronism is but one of time; there is no unreality about it, even as a sacred picture; while the introduction of the peculiarities of the artist's own time vastly enhances the value of the picture in a historical and artistic point of view.

Apply this principle of study, of gradual comprehension, to a play of Shakspeare, and you will find, if I mistake not, that fully three readings of a play are required if you would really appreciate not "the beauties of Shakspeare," but Shakspeare himself. The first reading, to master the difficulties of the language; the second, to comprehend each leading character singly; the third, to grasp the meaning and completeness of the play as a whole.

There is no need of entering now into the reasons

why the mere text of Shakspeare is full of difficulties; but they arise mainly from two sources: 1st, language; 2dly, grammar.

It is confessedly impossible to understand an author unless you are perfectly acquainted with his language. Now if you really think that Shakspeare presents but few difficulties of language, pray undeceive yourself by running your eye down a good glossary of his words and phrases: the obsolete expressions alone are very numerous; and be sure that until you comprehend these as readily as you enter into the language of daily life, you can't really comprehend Shakspeare. The grammar is another difficulty; but this arises from a totally different cause, which is the closeness of the thought on the part of the speaker. If you have any doubts on this head, let me refer you to that famous speech of Macbeth's, beginning "To be thus is nothing;" and you will quickly change your opinion on this head also. I believe that these two difficulties alone are the greatest impediments to the interest that Shakspeare would otherwise create in the mind of every educated Englishman. They are really more serious impediments, because