174: Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts, and Letters. 



The Shaksperian plots are analogous to the grouping of 

 Eaphael, the characters to the drawing of Michael Angelo, but 

 the word-painting exceeds the coloring of Titian. Accordingly, 

 in view of Shakspere's diction, I would long ago have said, if I 

 could, what I read in Arthur Helps concerning a perfect style, 

 that " there is a sense of felicity about it, declaring it to be the pro- 

 duct of a happy moment, so that you feel that it will not happen 

 ao^ain to that man who writes the sentence, nor to any other of 

 the sons of men, to say the like thing so choicely, tersely, mellif- 

 luously and completely." In the central court of the Neapolitan 

 museum I observed grape-clusters, volute?, moldings, fingers and 

 antique fragments of all sorts wrought in the rarest marble, lying- 

 scattered, on the pavement, exposed to sun and rain, cast down 

 the wrong side up, and seemingly thrown away, as when the 

 stones of the Jewish sanctuary were poured out in every street. 

 Nothing reveals the sculptural opulence of Italy like that appar- 

 ent wastefulness. It seems to proclaim that Italy can afford to 

 make nothing of what would elsewhere be judged worthy of 

 shrines. We say to ourselves, " If such be the things she throws 

 away, what must be her jewels ! " A similar feeling rises in me 

 while exploring Shakspere's prodigality in "Atzo.^ Xzyofisva. His 

 exchequer must have been more exhaustless than the Bank of 

 England, and he threw away more dies for coining words than 

 the British mint ever possessed for coining money. 



On the whole, in whatever aspect we survey the Bard of Avon 

 I am reminded of the retired Boston merchant who, in his old age, 

 reading Hamlet for the first t'me was enraptured. When asked 

 how he liked Shakspere, his answer was, "How do I like him? 

 Like is no word for my admiration. The truth is that not twenty 

 men in modern Boston can write anything better than old Shak- 

 spere." I say ditto to the Boston man. Not more than forty men 

 in Madison (the present company excepted) can produce plays 

 superior to the old Shaksperian. 



