"I have no long spoon."-Act II., Scene 2.

I cannot reach both your mouths at once; besides, I don't like to come so near the devil. It also alludes to an old proverb, "A long spoon to eat with the devil;" and may be found in Chaucer, Tyrwhitt, &c.

"Well drawn, monster, in good sooth."-Act II., Scene 2.

Caliban has just had another draught from Stephano's bottle of "celestial liquor," and Trinculo compliments him upon having taken so capital a "pull" or "draw."

"By'r lakin."-Act III., Scene 3.

By our lady, or little lady, or lady-kin.

"Each putter-out on five for one."-Act III., Scene 3. Alluding to a custom among travellers about to engage in perilous undertakings, who put out money to usurious interest, which was probably only paid in case they lived to

return.

"Destiny,

That hath to instrument this lower world."-Act III., Scene 3.

That hath the world to play upon as an instrument.

-"Is nothing, but heart's sorrow, And a clear life ensuing.”—Act III., Scene 3. Nothing can avert this doom but sorrowful repentance and a good life henceforward.

-“It did bass my trespass.-Act III., Scene 3.
It gave the bass notes to my trespass.

"No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall." Act IV., Scene 1. "Aspersion," from aspersio, a sprinkling; now used in a calumnious sense, as, bespattering.

"Bring a corollary,

Rather than want a spirit.”—Act IV., Scene 1.

Does "a corollary" mean a surplus (of spirits), rather than Prospero should be deficient? Is it used in a botanical sense for a crowd of petals in the centre of a flower, taken metaphorically for a crowd, a garland, or coronal of spirits? Or does Prospero desire Ariel to bring him a corollary from his magic books?

-"Lifted up their noses,

As they smelt music."-Act IV., Scene 1.

This passage is a most accurate description of the effect produced upon colts by music. On first hearing even a trumpet, instead of being terrified, they will often advance and thrust their nose up the very mouth of the instrument, while it is blown, provided this be done with some consideration.

"Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair.-Act IV., Scene 1.

Malone says, that goat's-hair jerkins, both plain and ornamented, formed part of the theatrical wardrobes of this period; and he suggests, that in the present instance they were hung upon a hair line. Steevens thinks there is some gross allusion in the passage. Edwards says it refers to the loss of hair by fever on passing the equinoctial line! Did the sailors shave folks with an iron hoop in those days? Stephano was, however, drunk; half with wine, and half with his ideas of royalty.

"And time

Goes upright with his carriage."-Act V., Scene 1. Time goes upright with his burden: "all events move on rightly.

"Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves." Act V., Scene 1.

The original of this speech will be found in the speech of Medea in Ovid :-"Auræque, et venti, montesque, amnesque, lacusque," &c. Shakspere availed himself of a free translation by Golding. Of this discovery, Warburton, Holt, Farmer, and Malone, make far more than it is worth. All the finer parts of the poetry belong to Shakspere. borrows a few words, and adds many ideas.

"I drink the air before me, and return

He

Or ere your pulse twice beat."-Act V., Scene 1. An exquisitely poetical passage, wonderfully illustrating the rapidity of a spirit's flight to and fro on its errand. In explanatory elaboration,-I swallow the intervening space in one draught of pure ether: I return before the heavy fluid of mortality can twice perform the quickest movement of its most potent function.

"That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power."— Act V., Scene 1. Sycorax could deal in, or direct, the operations of the moon, without the moon having power to resist.

SONGS IN THE "TEMPEST."

THE Songs in the "TEMPEST" have troubled some of the learned commentators, and occasioned many remarks which were nothing to the purpose. Dr. Johnson apparently took up his pen to indite a grave reproof upon those who despised Ariel's songs, but concluded his sentence by coinciding with the objections. He observes, that "Ariel's lays (which have been condemned by Gildon as trifling, and defended, not very successfully, by Dr. Warburton), however seasonable and efficacious, must be allowed to be of no supernatural dignity or elegance; they express nothing great, nor reveal anything above mortal discovery." This is all very true, very wise, and quite inapplicable. Neither dignity nor elegance (in the scholastic sense in which the term is evidently used) is the attribute of any such elfish sprites as Ariel. How they could reveal anything above mortal discovery, or be intelligible to us if they did, we shall not enquire. All the songs in the "TEMPEST" are admirably characteristic of the different singers. The coarse, sea doggrel of Stephano is "of the earth, earthy," like his nature; and of the sea, scummy, like his circumstances: the songs of Ariel are those of a quaint and beautiful creature, who lives floating about in the air, or sits in a tree by night, and mimics the wind's echoes when they seem to bark or crow "dispersedly" (some of Ariel's songs are as though a bird warbled them): and the elated chant of Caliban may be regarded as an extraordinary ebullition of the rudimentary or lowest condition of humanity; while his repetition of parts of words conveys a clear impression of the aboriginal chorus, and how it first arose among the savage populations of the world.

R. H. H.

FTER a careful examination of the sources from which Shakspere appears to have derived hints for the plot, characters, and incidents of the present drama, the predominating impression left on our minds is that of its originality. In this instance, as in almost all others, the more he borrows, the more does his entire power over his materials become apparent. The vulgar is metamorphosed into the refined; the crude outlines are filled up with well-established life; shadows are changed into substance, or substance into shadow; and the whole is put in motion, not like a new set of things, but with the crowded impetus of foregone existences, and all their complex activities.

A wild-headed, old "conceitede comedie," called "MUCEDORUS," has been thought by a pleasant critic of antiquarian literature (Octavius Gilchrist by name), to have furnished Shakspere with the first idea of the plot and persons of the "TEMPEST." The passages he adduces in support of his opinion are amusing from their dissimilarity. The romantic monster in "MUCEDORUS" makes love to the heroine princess in so truly poetical and touching a strain, that she absolutely consents to live with him in the woods; but eventually receives the hand of her royal lover! Still, there may be some slight foundation for the critical fancy.

It should be observed, that certain kinds of harmless "monsters" were in high favour with the court at this period. We find in the old chronicles and black-letter correspondence, that Queen Elizabeth, during a hunting excursion, was occasionally met, "all unawares," by some savage man issuing out of the woods, his naked body overgrown "with mosse and yvie." Instead of flourishing his club so as to bring his rich prize to the ground, and carry her off to his cave, according to his nature and "usual custom of an afternoon," the savage man made her a profound bow, and instantly fell to reciting a well-conceited batch of complimentary verses, very pleasant to hear.

A far more feasible origin of the "TEMPEST" than the old, and once very popular comedy of "MUCEDORUS," may be supposititiously traced to an account by one Silvester Jourdan of the discovery of the Bermudas. In this we find a narrative of the shipwreck of Sir George Somers, who was on a voyage for the purpose of colonising Virginia. He was cast on the Bermuda Islands, then uninhabited, and generally believed to be enchanted; although a benevolent commentator on Jourdan edifies and comforts his readers with the assurance that they were not really enchanted. Several mutinies occurred while Sir George Somers and his people remained on the island; and a sea-monster-man had once shewn himself to some of the party whose eyes were best suited to the rare discovery. Stowe, in his "ANNALS," speaking of this shipwreck upon "the dreadful coast," further remarks, that these islands "were, of all nations, said and supposed to be enchanted and inhabited with witches and devills, which grow by reason of accustomed monstrous thunder, storms, and tempests." This account by old Stowe of the elemental growth and generation of the hags and imps and devils and abortions of the island, is fearfully fine. Caliban and Sycorax and Setebos, might well be imagined to have first glared into life through the long fermenting incantation of "accustomed monstrous thunder!"

The narrative of the shipwreck of Sir George Somers was published in 1610: the romantic drama of the "TEMPEST," in 1611. It is supposed to have been the last of Shakspere's productions. How beautiful the thought, that after his hard struggle with the common world, and the licentious society into which he had been so much thrown, he should yet have preserved the freshness of heart, the youth of mind, the purity of affection, and the magnanimity of soul, which pervade this "enchanted" drama.

R. II H.