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to any mystical union and transmission of feeling through different states of being to account for the romantick enthusiasm of youth; nor to plant the root of hope in the grave, nor to derive it from the skies. Its root is in the heart of man: it lifts its head above the stars. Desire and imagination are inmates of the human breast. The heaven « that lies about us in our infancy” is only a new world, of which we know nothing but what we wish it to be, and believe all that we wish. In youth and boyhood, the world we live in is the world of desire, and of fancy: it is experience that brings us down to the world of reality. What is it that in youth sheds a dewy light round the evening star ? That makes the daisy look so bright? That perfumes the hyacinth? That embalms the first kiss of love? It is the delight of novelty, and the seeing no end to the pleasure that we fondly believe is still in store for us. The heart revels in the luxury of its own thoughts, and is unable to sustain the weight of hope and love that presses upon it.—The effects of the passion of love alone might have dissipated Mr. Wordsworth's theory, if he means any thing more by it than an ingenious and poetical allegory. That at least is not a link in the chain let down from other worlds; purple light of love” is not a dim reflection of the smiles of celestial bliss. It does not appear till the middle of life, and then seems like another morn risen on mid-day.” In this respect the soul comes into the world “in utter nakedness." Love waits for the ripening of the youthful blood. The sense of pleasure precedes the love of pleasure, but

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with the sense of pleasure, as soon as it is felt, come thronging infinite desires and hopes of pleasure, and love is mature as soon as born. It withers and it dies almost as soon !

This play presents a beautiful coup-d'ail of the progress of human life. In thought it occupies years, and embraces the circle of the affections from childhood to old age. Juliet has become a great girl, a young woman, since we first remember her a little thing in the idle prattle of the nurse ; Lady Capulet was about her age when she became a mother, anu old Capulet somewhat impatiently tells his younger visitors,

" I've seen the day,
That I have worn a visor, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone."

Thus one period of life makes way for the following, and one generation pushes another off the stage. One of the most striking passages to shew the intense feeling of youth in this play, is Capulet's invitation to Paris to visit his entertainment.

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“At my poor house, look to behold this night
Earth treading stars that make dark heav'n light;
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-appareld April on the heel
Of limpiug winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house."

The feelings of youth and of the spring are here blended together like the breath of opening flowers. Images of verpal beauty appear to have floated before the author's mind, in writing this poem, in pro

fusion. Here is another of exquisite beauty, brought in more by accident than by necessity. Montague declares of his son smit with a hopeless passion which he will not reveal

“But he, his own affection's counsellor,
Is to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud hit with an envious worin,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

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This casual description is as full of passionale beauty as when Romeo dwells in frantick fondness

" the white wonder of his Juliet's hand.” The reader may, if he pleases, contrast the exquisite pastoral simplicity of the above lines with the gorgeous description of Juliet when Romeo first sees her at her father's house, surrounded by company and artificial splendour.

“ What lady's that which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
() she doth teach the torches to burn bright;
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,
Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear."

It would be hard to say which of the two garden scenes is the finest, that where he first converses with his love, or takes leave of her the morning after their marriage. Both are like a heaven upon earth : the blissful bowers of Paradise let down upon this lower world. We will give only one passage of these well known scenes to shew the perfect refinement and delicacy of Shakspeare's conception of the female character. It is wonderful how Collins, who was a critick and a poet of great sensibility, should

have encouraged the common errour on this subject by saying—"But stronger Shakspeare felt for man alone.”

The passage we mean is Juliet's apology for ber maiden boldness.

“ Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face ;
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on forni, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke-but farewell compliment:
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say, ay,
And I will take thee at thy word-Yet if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false ; at lovers' perjuries
They say Jove laughs. Oh gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully ;
Or if thou think I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo : but else not for the world.
lo truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour light;
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion; therefore pardon me,
And not inpute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered."

In this and all the rest her heart fluttering between pleasure, hope, and fear, seems to have dictated to her tongue, and calls true love spoken, simple modesty.” of the same sort, but bolder in virgin innocence, is her soliloquy after her marriage with Romeo.

“Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phæbus' mansion; such a waggoner As Phaëton would whip you to the west,

Ånd bring in cloudy night inmediately,
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night;
That runaways' eyes may wink; and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalked of, and unseen!
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties: or if love be blind,
It best agrees with night.--Coine, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods :
Hood my unmano'd blond bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
Thinks true love acted, simple modesty.
Come, night !--Come, Romeo! come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.-
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo : and when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world shall be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd : so tedious is this day,
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child, that hath new robes,
And may not wear them."

We the rather insert this passage here, in as much as we have no doubt it has been expunged from the Family Shakspeare. Such eriticks do not perceive that the feelings of the heart sanctify, without disguising, the impulses of nature. Without refinement themselves, they confound modesty with hypocrisy. Not so the German critick, Schlegel. Speaking of ROMEO AND JULIET, he says, “ It was reserved for Shakspeare to unite purity of heart and the glow of imagination, sweetness, and dignity of manners, and

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