Another course sometimes adopted by Shakespeare is the assignment of the same, or a similar duty, to very different individuals, and, by allowing each to accomplish the task in his own way, to gain once more an opportunity for the observation and comparison of nice distinctions of character. This latter plan is one, among others, of which he makes use in his analysis of woman; and, accordingly, its consideration brings us naturally to the study of one of his early, but, at the same time, one of his most charming creations-Portia. Let us note her carefully, for a few moments. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty; And, enamored do wish, so they might But enjoy such a sight, That they still were to run by her side Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride. Do but look on her eyes, they do light All that Love's world compriseth! Do but look on her hair, it is bright As Love's star, when it riseth! Do but mark, her forehead's smoother Than words that soothe her: As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain, all the good of the elements' strife. How well do Jonson's inimitable lines revive the impression produced by the Lady of Belmont, with her dainty, lissome, airy form, whose beauty, great though it be, is surpassed by that yet rarer and finer beauty of heart and mind, that sheds itself through the face, and gives to the smooth forehead and arched brows the grace which makes The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds of wide Arabia' to be counted but as 'thoroughfares for princes to come view fair Portia.' Indeed, were I to compress into one word, my estimate of this lady, that word would, I think, be beauty: beauty which because of its completeness, includes, while it far exceeds mere external loveli ness. There is a passage in the Poetics which if I recollect aright, is to the effect that the beautiful' consist in order, or,-as we might paraphrase it,—in harmony and due proportion. Whether this definition be in accord with modern ideas or no, it may assuredly be predicated of the beauty of Portia. Her fair form is but the goodly temple that is inhabited by many a bright priestess. Yet many though they be, they dwell together in the most perfect amity and concord. And hence results that exquisite poise, which imparts to Portia much of her strength of character, and which enables her to endure, almost without flinching, the trials of a situation that to many a woman would prove well nigh unbearable. For with all her wealth, and strength, and beauty, she has her trials too. Before ever our eyes beheld her, her eyes had looked upon Bassanio. And she still remembers him, and, praise him as we may, she remembers him worthy of our praise. Yet what avails this admiration? She is left by the will of a dead father, a veritable prize in a lottery, and is liable to be carried off in triumph by any one of a dozen or more suitors, w hose very names are odious to her. Nor is the situation rendered any the less trying to the sensitive, spirited woman, by the notoriety she has gained through being, as it were, advertised as a popinjay at which any princely adventurer, whatever his qualifications, may tilt, with as good a hope as the best of hitting the mark and making his fortune. Her depression and anxiety are apparent at the outset, when she enters with the words, 'By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this great world;' and her, seemingly, rather heartless exclamations, after the unsuccessful attempts of the prince of Morocco and the prince of Arragon, are, in reality, nothing but the perfectly natural expression of the relief she feels, when the tension is over in which she had remained, pending the decision of those worthies—a relief so keen and delightful, that, for the time, it completely obliterates every other sensation. But in the interview with Bassanio, before he essays his fortune with the caskets, the suspense in which she is held becomes still more strongly apparent, and she pleads with her lover to delay a little longer, lest, if he choose amiss, she should lose him forever; while, during the time that he occupies in actually making his choice, she regards him in silence, with an anxiety that is absolutely breathless. Yet, despite the load she has constantly to bear about with her, so perfectly does she control herself, so bright and cheery is she, so kind, gracious, and thoughtful in her treatment of those who are around her, that, were it not for the few moments when she is alone with Nerissa, or with Bassanio, we should hardly be conscious that she had a load to carry. Indeed, it is not until the suspense finally and forever passes away, when Bassanio is successful, having chosen the leaden casket, that we learn from her excessive joy and delight the full measure of the torment to which she was formerly subjected. How all the other passions fleet to air, As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, O love, be moderate; allay thy ecstacy; In measure rein thy joy; scant this excess. I feel too much thy blessing: make it less, -III, ii, 108. Such an outburst from the usually reserved Portia proves more eloquently than much argument how strong the revulsion of feeling has been. But, once again, her remarkable power of self-control asserts itself, and almost before her lover has time to claim her for his own, she has regained her equilibrium, and proceeds, in the most exquisitely tender and modest language, to surrender not merely herself, but her house, her servants, and all that she possesses to him, 'to be directed, as from her lord, her governor, her king.' Portia does nothing by halves. When she loves, she loves with her whole being; when she ridicules, she does so unsparingly; and, remembering the charming episode in which she wins from her lord the ring that she had made him swear he would never part with, and the use to which she puts the ring when won, we may well admit that, even in the matter of a jest, she is no less whole-hearted, while, at the same time, she is too true a lady to carry her sport far enough to wound the most sensitive feelings. There is, however, another trait of Portia's character, and that, too, perhaps the most obvious one of all. I mean, of course, her brilliant powers of intellect. I say the most obvious, but this does not necessarily imply that her intellect is her dominant quality. A true woman, it will be readily admitted, is always ruled more from the heart than from the head; and herein lies, in great measure, her difference from man, who is guided rather by his reason than by his feelings. Portia is every inch a woman, and her heart is her true ruler, but she is endowed with a quick and ready wit, and with a comprehensive, logical mind that fit her for the part she fills, while they compel our admiration at every turn. Nor has nature alone been lavish with Portia, art and training have done their utmost for her as well; while the ultimate result of this interworking of art and nature, is the production of that which is rare in even the most gifted and accomplished women-a truly reflective and philosophic temperament. This is apparent on many occasions, and seems, once or twice, to be carried almost to the point of sententiousness. For example: If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree. —I, ii, 13. A speech which sounds very like an assemblage of proverbs. But Portia usually assumes a much loftier tone than this, as witness the following, besides very many others that might be adduced:— I never did repent for doing good, Nor shall not now: for in companions That do converse and waste the time together, Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love, Of lineaments, of manners and of spirit. And again: Portia. How far that little candle throws his beams! -III, iv, 10. Nerissa. When the moon shone we did not see the candle; A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by, and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inland brook -V, i, 90. 'Fair sentences, and well pronounced,' which serve not merely to show how readily the simplest natural objects suggest to Portia the profound thoughts with which she is so familiar, but also to reveal to us those high powers of imagination that invest with grace and beauty all the coinage of her brain. Yet it is at the trial that we must see Portia, if we would see her at her best. In it, all her qualities of heart unite and shine resplendent: in it, too, we have the most complete evidence of the powers of her mind, and of the thorough training to which that mind has been subjected. She has a double object in view: the voiding of Shylock's claim to the pound of flesh, by proving that to carry out the letter of the bond is an impossibility; and the punishment of the Jew's cruelty by showing that he has been plotting against Antonio's life, and is therefore liable to death, with confiscation of property. In this latter task lies her only difficulty, and to this she first addresses herself. It is characteristic of Portia that she approaches all things from above. And she now begins with that eloquent appeal to Shylock's better nature, that noble eulogy upon the quality of mercy' which, powerless as she expected it to be, and as it is, to touch the hard Jewish heart, nevertheless stirs her own generous nature to the very depths. She tries him next by his love of money, and, in the end, completely unmasks his true design, as she draws forth the refusal to allow even the assistance of a surgeon to prevent Antonio's death from loss of blood. Having thus convicted Shylock, out of his own mouth, of the crime of plotting against the life of a citizen, she quickly, on technical grounds, disposes of his claim to the pound of flesh, and then proceeds to mete out to him that justice which has been his constant plea, but which, to his surprise, makes his own life, not |