of consequence as the Queen's son in a council of state, and with all the absurdity of his person and manners, is not without shrewdness in his observations. So true is it that folly is as often owing to a want of proper sentiments as to a want of understanding! The exclamation of the ancient critic, “O, Menander and Nature, which of you copied from the other!" would not be misapplied to Shakspeare.

The other characters in this play are represented with great truth and accuracy; and as it happens in most of the author's works, there is not only the utmost keeping in each separate character, but in the casting of the different parts, and their relation to one another, there is an affinity and harmony, like what we may observe in the gradations of colour in a picture. The striking and powerful contrasts in which Shakspeare abounds could not escape observation; but the use he makes of the principle of analogy to reconcile the greatest diversities of character and to maintain a continuity of feeling throughout, has not been sufficiently attended to. In CYMBELINE, for instance, the principal interest arises out of the unalterable fidelity of Imogen to her husband under the most trying circumstances. Now the other parts of the picture are filled up with subordinate examples of the same feeling, variously

modified by different situations, and applied to the purposes of virtue or vice. The plot is aided by the amorous importunities of Cloten, by the tragical determination of Iachimo to conceal the defeat of his project by a daring imposture: the faithful attachment of Pisanio to his mistress is an affecting accompaniment to the whole; the obstinate adherence to his purpose in Bellarius, who keeps the fate of the young princes so long a secret, in resentment for the ungrateful return to his former services; the incorrigible wickedness of the Queen, and even the blind uxorious confidence of Cymbeline, are all so many lines of the same story, tending to the same point. The effect of this coincidence is rather felt than observed; and as the impression exists unconsciously in the mind of the reader, so it probably arose in the same manner in the mind of the author, not from design, but from the force of natural association, a particular train of feeling suggesting different inflections of the same predominant principle, melting into, and strengthening one another, like chords in music.

The characters of Bellarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus, and the romantic scenes in which they appear, are a fine relief to the intrigues and artificial refinements of the court from which they are banished. Nothing can surpass the wildness and

simplicity of the descriptions of the mountain-life they lead. They follow the business of huntsmen, not of shepherds; and this is in keeping with the spirit of adventure and uncertainty in the rest of the story, and with the scenes in which they are afterwards called on to act. How admirably the youthful fire and impatience to emerge from their obscurity in the young princes is opposed to the cooler calculations and prudent resignation of their. more experienced counsellor ! How well the disadvantages of knowledge and of ignorance, of solitude and society, are placed against each other!

"Guiderius. Out of your proof you speak we, poor
unfledg'd,

Have never wing'd from view o' the nest ; nor know not
What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life be best; sweeter to you,

That have a sharper known; well corresponding
With your stiff age; but, unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit.

Arviragus. What should we speak of,
When we are old as you? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December! how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing:
We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey;
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat :
Our valour is, to chase what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,
And sing our bondage freely."

The answer of Bellarius to this expostulation is hardly satisfactory; for nothing can be an answer to hope, or the passion of the mind for unknown good, but experience.-The forest of Arden in As you like it can alone compare with the mountain scenes in CYMBELINE: yet how different the contemplative quiet of the one from the enterprising boldness and precarious mode of subsistence in the other! Shakspeare not only lets us into the minds of his characters, but gives a tone and colour to the scenes he describes from the feelings of their imaginary inhabitants. He at the same time preserves the utmost propriety of action and passion, and gives all their local accompaniments. If he was equal to the greatest things, he was not above an attention to the smallest. Thus the gallant sportsmen in CYMBELINE have to encounter the abrupt declivities of hill and valley: Touchstone and Audrey jog along a level path. The deer in CYMBELINE are only regarded as objects of prey, "The game's a-foot," &c.- with Jaques they are fine subjects to moralize upon at leisure, "under the shade of melancholy boughs."

We cannot take leave of this play, which is a favourite with us, without noticing some occasional touches of natural piety and morality. We may allude here to the opening of the scene in which

Bellarius instructs the young princes to pay their

orisons to Heaven:

"Stoop, boys: this gate

Instructs you how to adore the Heavens; and bows you

To morning's holy office: The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high, that giants may get through
And keep their impious turbands on, without
Good morrow to the sun.-Hail, thou fair Heaven!
We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.

Guiderius. Hail, Heaven!

Arviragus. Hail, Heaven!

Bellarius. Now for our mountain-sport."

What a grace and unaffected spirit of piety breathes in this passage! In like manner, one of the brothers says to the other, when about to perform the funeral rites to Fidele,

"Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east : My father hath a reason for 't."

Shakspeare's morality is introduced in the same

simple, unobtrusive manner.

Imogen will not let

her companions stay away from the chase to attend

her when sick, and gives her reason for it—

"Stick to your journal course; the breach of custom Is breach of all!

When the Queen attempts to disguise her motives for procuring the poison from Cornelius, by saying she means to try its effect on "creatures not worth