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No; too rhetorical: your antithesis gives headaches to fine ladies. Euphuist? Not in the applied sense: read Shakespere's sonnets in that manner; or, if you object that Shakespere is too high for such comparisons, read Drummond of Hawthornden. Poetry, which has a soul, we cannot call it. Verse it assuredly is, and of the most excellent.

We discover at once, for instance, that where a man would make a machine, or a picture, or a book, God makes the man that makes the book, or the picture, or the machine. Would God give us a drama? He makes a Shakespere. Or would he construct a drama more immediately his own? He begins with the building of the stage itself, and that stage is a world a universe of worlds.

Mechanically he took his Confessio Amantis, and sat down, but never opened it; rose again and took his Shakespere, opened it, but could not read; rose once more, took his Vulgate, and read: 'Quid turbamini, et ploratis? puella non est mortua, sed dormit. He laid that book also down, fell on his knees, and prayed for her who was not dead but sleeping.

The field of literature is now so vast that no one can hope to be well acquainted with more than a small portion of it. Yet every well-informed young person should know the general character of the principal writers since the time of Shakespere, even though one should never read their works.

He was a good man, that Shakespere, but his pieces is full iv th' ol' gags that I heerd whin I was a boy.

Another member rose and asked the government whether they considered Shakespere or Moliere the greater dramatic artist. The government answered that ministers were taking this under their earnest consideration and that a report would be submitted to Parliament. Another member asked the government if they knew who won the Queen's Plate this season at Toronto.

You take a boy out of school; you set him to book-reading, give him Shakespere and a Bible, set him sailing in the air with the poets; drench him with painter's dreams, via, Titian's carmine and orange, Veronese's rippling brocades, Umbrian morning skies, and Tuscan hues wrought of moonbeams and flowing water anon you turn him adrift in Italy, a country where all poets' souls seem to be caged in crystal and set in the sun, and say "Here, dreamer of dreams, what of the day?"

If this means that Shakespere has always a perfect comprehension of his characters, is competent to measure out to each absolute and unerring justice, and is capable of sympathy with even the most repulsive, it will not be disputed for an instant.

I don't know, of course, but it seems to me that I'd say: 'Who loses his life shall gain it! and I'd stand anything people and places I hated, loneliness and poverty the whole bag of tricks! I think I would. I mean I'd read the Bible and Shakespere, and enjoy my meals, and have a garden " Her voice sank. "I know it's terribly hard for you, Cherry!" she ended, suddenly pitiful.

"I undherstand," said Mr. Dooley, "that they're goin' to dhramatize Shakespere whin th' dhramatizer gets through with th' 'Report iv th' Cinsus Department f'r 1899-1900." "I wisht th' campaign was over," said Mr. Dooley. "I wisht it'd begin," said Mr. Hennessy. "I niver knew annything so dead.