; and the abundant short
interludes are addressed solely to that faculty. All such things pass
before us fittingly and easily in reading, whereas they are a drag in
representation and appear as disturbing, even as repellent elements.

Shakespeare produces his effects by the living word, and that may be
best transmitted by recitation; the listener is not distracted by either
good or inadequate representation. There is no greater or purer delight
than to listen with closed eyes to a Shakespearean play recited, not
declaimed, in a natural, correct voice. One follows the simple thread
which runs through events of the drama. We form a certain conception of
the characters, it is true, from their designation; but actually we
have to learn from the course of the words and speeches what goes on
within, and here all the characters seem to have agreed not to leave us
in the dark, in doubt, in any particular.

[Illustration: THE OLD THEATRE, WEIMAR _From a Water Color by Peter
Woltze_]

To this end all conspire--heroes and mercenaries, masters and slaves,
kings and messengers; the subordinate figures, indeed, being often more
effective in this respect than the superior ones. Everything
mysteriously brewing in the air at the time of some great world-event,
all that is hidden in the human soul in moments of supreme experience,
is given expression; what the spirit anxiously locks up and screens is
freely and unreservedly exposed; we learn the meaning of life and know
not how.

Shakespeare mates himself with the world-spirit; like it he pervades the
world; to neither is anything concealed; but if it is the function of
the world-spirit to maintain secrecy before, indeed often after, the
event, it is the poet's aim to divulge the secret and make us confidants
before the deed, or at least during its occurrence. The vicious man of
power, well-meaning mediocrity, the passionate enthusiast, the calmly
reflective character, all wear their hearts upon their sleeves, often
contrary to all likelihood; every one is inclined to talk, to be
loquacious. In short, the secret must out, should the stones have to
proclaim it. Even inanimate objects contribute their share; all
subordinate things chime in; the elements, the phenomena of the heavens,
earth and sea, thunder and lightning, wild beasts, raise their voices,
often apparently in parables, but always acting as accessories.

But the civilized world, too, must render up its treasures; arts and