ess of the heart. It is certain that, in proportion as
its merely mental strength and attainment take the place of natural
sentiment, in proportion as we acquire the habit of receiving all
impressions through the reason, the teachings of Nature grow indistinct
and cold.... It is when we are overcome, and the pride of intellect
vanquished before the truth of nature, when instead of coming to a
logical decision we are led to bow in profound reverence before the
mysteries of life, when we are led back to childhood, or up to God, by
some powerful revelation of the sage or minstrel, it is then our natures
grow. To this end is all art. Exquisite vocalism, beautiful statuary,
and painting, and all true literature, have not for their great object
to employ the ingenuity of prying critics, or furnish the world with a
set of new ideas, but to move the whole nature by the perfection and
truthfulness of their appeal. There is a certain atmosphere exhaled from
the inspired page of genius, which gives vitality to the sentiments, and
through these, quickens the mental powers. And this is the chief good of
books.

* * * * *

=_H.N. Hudson, 1814-._= (Manual, pp. 480, 501.)

From "Preface to the Works of Shakespeare."

=_224._= Shakespeare's Works Instructive.

It is true, he often lays on us burdens of passion that would not be
borne in any other writer. But whether he wrings the heart with pity, or
freezes the blood with terror, or fires the soul with indignation, the
genial reader still rises from his pages refreshed. The reason of which
is, instruction keeps pace with excitement: he strengthens the mind
in proportion as he loads it. He has been called the great master of
passion: doubtless he is so; yet he makes us think as intensely as he
requires us to feel; while opening the deepest fountains of the heart,
he at the same time unfolds the highest energies of the head. Nay, with
such consummate art does he manage the fiercest tempests of our being,
that in a healthy mind the witnessing of them is always attended with
an overbalance of pleasure. With the very whirlwinds of passion he so
blends the softening and alleviating influences of poetry, that they
relish of nothing but sweetness and health.... He is not wont to exhibit
either utterly worthless or utterly faultless monsters; persons too
good, or too bad, to exist; too high to be loved, or too low to be
pitied; even his worst characters (unl