f the
ethical purpose of Shakespeare's plays. Let us only speak of their
ethical effect. What that effect is has been expressed by Shelley thus:
"The gentleness and elevation of mind connected with sacred emotions
render men more amiable, more generous and wise, and lift them out of
the dull vapours of the little world of self."

Last element in the making of our Shakespeare was one which I dare
hardly name, in fear of the deluge of contempt which the minor prophets
of artistry will pour upon my head. Well, I take my Philistine courage
in my hands, and say that he was thus great because he never wrote for
any special class of the illuminati; he never troubled his soul with any
other theory of art than that it should present interesting and
universal truth, truth so manifestly true that it should appeal to all
the world of men and women. When Angelo was asked by a sculptor in what
light a certain statue should be viewed, his answer was, "in the light
of the public square." A statue which will not bear the criticism of
that place is assuredly untrue. Shakespeare wrote for the public square,
not for exhibition in the gallery of some ephemeral school of taste, nor
for the private collection of some self-elected critic, who holds a
pouncet-box while he applies his little artificial canons of
correctness.

Doubtless a man who writes in this large massive spirit, overlooks some
trifling blemishes. "Nice customs curtesy to great kings." "Great men,"
says Landor, "often have greater faults than smaller men can find room
for." Shakespeare has his, but, of all wise things that Ruskin has said
of art, this--which describes our Shakespeare--is perhaps the truest:
"There are two characters in which all greatness of art consists--first,
the earnest and intense seizing of natural facts; then the ordering
those facts by strength of human intellect, so as to make them, for all
who look upon them, to the utmost serviceable, memorable and
beautiful."

Literature and Life

The Literature Society of Melbourne meets monthly in order to assimilate
true literature and to study its principles. If its President is
entitled to speak its corporate mind, it approaches this task in a
grateful and docile spirit.

There is, I believe, no necessity to defend the existence and aims of a
Literature Society. It would be enough if we simply confessed that we
meet for the enjoyment of a rational and not unelevating pleasure. It
would be enough