Dr. Furnivall, in his introduction to the Leopold Shakespeare, tells us how over and over again, through these plays, Shakespeare reveals himself:

"As to the question how far we are justified in assuming that Shakespeare put his own feelings, himself, into his plays, some men scorn the notion, ask you triumphantly which of his characters represent him, assert that he himself is in none of them, but sits apart, serene, unruffled himself by earthly passion, making his puppets move. I believe, on the contrary, that all the deepest and greatest work of an artist - playwright, orator, painter, poet - is based on personal experience, on his own emotions and passions, and not merely on his observations of things or feelings outside of him, on which his fancy and imagination work. Shakespeare tells me he felt hell; and in his Othello, Macbeth,

Lear, Coriolanus, Timon, I see the evidence of his having done so. He tells us how he loved his friends, as with woman's love; and in his Antonio - thrice repeated - his Helena, his Viola, I see his own devoted love reflected. He tells me what his false, swarthy mistress was; and in his Cleopatra, I see her, to some extent, embodied. I see him at last laying bare his own soul as he strips the covering off other men's; and I see him at last passing into at-oneness with God and man, into fresh delight in all the glories of the outward world, and the sweet girls about him in his Stratford home. Then content to sleep. And I refuse to separate Shakespeare, the man, from Shakespeare, the artist. He himself, his own nature and life, are in all his plays, to the man who has eyes and chooses to look for him and them there."

To some, this bold statement of Furnivall's, as to Shakespeare's putting himself, his own emotions and passions, into the characters in his plays, was startling. The earlier critics were agreed that search through his plays did not, in any way, reveal the man Shakespeare - his characters were clearly defined human beings, who lived their lives; but in all that they did, in no way gave the slightest hint of the innermost thoughts of the Master who drew them. Lost in the greatness of the art of Shakespeare which his masterly types reflected, they reached to grasp the ideals created by the mighty genius they reverenced. That the imagination of Shakespeare was fed and nurtured by the thoughts he held, by the longings that welled within him, by the ambitions he strove to realize, by the loves within himself, did not receive consideration at all, as I view it, from these earlier critics. The types Shakespeare presented gave a wide field for study that they might be clearly understood - the critics hardly concerned themselves as to whether the Master may have found the models within or without himself, but assumed that he must have found them wholly without himself. To my mind, the "Midsummer Night's Dream," his first fairy play, reflects, in a certain sense, the religious teachings of his time. Beyond man, it was assumed, there was a force that controlled him. Man was controlled against his will, against his wish, against his purpose, by that mysterious force which serious writers have ascribed as belonging to a personal God, and writers of a livelier and happier imagination to fairies or spirits unseen. In short, that play to me reflects the younger man who has accepted the philosophy and conclusions of the teachings of his age. Shakespeare had not, at that time, become in any sense a serious metaphysical or psychological thinker. The world was just opening its portals to him and all was new; and from his standpoint, exceedingly interesting and delightful. In "The Tempest" we find the work of the master genius - the man who had fought and won - the man who did not need to guess what mysteries life held for humanity, because he had sounded their depth.

When the star of genius first rises above the horizon and he catches glimpses of it, he recognizes within himself the spirit of daring. In those moments of upliftment, the new-born power is reflected in affirmations declaring the discoveries of selves within the self. In divers ways this upliftment comes to genius, but always bringing to him confidence of the power of mastery within himself.

Socrates recognized a spirit force near him, or a spirit presence - in a certain sense it might be termed his familiar, speaking in the language of the spiritist of to-day. In the epilogue to "The Tempest," Shakespeare bids farewell to his fairy hosts, evidently having determined that his work as a playwright was ended. He had done his work; and, as Furnivall most happily puts it, he was content to sleep. Ariel, the

Spirit of Air, was the familiar of Prospero; and who does Prospero stand for? Let us see.

Prospero was wronged by his brother, considering the matter in a worldly way. But may it not be that there was a guiding force around Prospero which saw for his full and complete development it was necessary that he be separated from the world, in order that that full un-foldment might come?

The university men led by Ben Jonson were envious of Shakespeare's popularity. When they could harm him in no other way, they wrote him down as ignorant. In silent moments, may he not, with his awakening power, have appealed (unwittingly, perhaps) to the encircling spirit force about us of which Longfellow speaks so eloquently in his poems? As far as history shows, Shakespeare was not in the habit of striking back when blows were struck at him. Even when Pembroke took away his love, however much it may have stung him, it did not blunt his devoted friendship. Often must he have felt the need of classical training when mingling with the University men. Sometimes the want of it may have cast dark shadows on his life. In presenting to us the great tragedies, there is no doubt but at that period he passed through all the hell man may know, and per haps then he was in such a frame of mind that he almost gloried in the tortures he endured. Down deep within him, and guiding him through this awful labyrinth of suffering, may there not have been a spirit force that whispered of the infinite growth one may attain who successfully battles with prejudice, opposition, grief, enmity and hate? May it not be true that this spirit force whispered of a glorious peace beyond that could be won only by those who pass through this severe school of discipline without losing faith in the nobility of man?