II.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

AND now from the pitchy smoke of Acheron, and from the hot and stifling atmosphere of injustice and cruelty, midnight murders and haunting spirits, bloody wrongs and fierce resentments, we emerge into the blue and sunshine of God's own heaven, and feel the "unchartered winds" from the mountain in our faces, blowing away towards the deep ocean of oblivion all clouds of mistrust and despair at man's unkindness and folly. We are in the forest of Arden; and under the green shaws will we crack nuts and jokes with that pretty squirrel, the pranksome Rosalind, or descant upon her blithe wisdom with that sedate and most loving of all cousins, the devoted, the cordial, the confiding Celia. To make the world one "perfect chrysolite" of happiness, let every man respect the predilections of his fellow: nothing is worth quarrelling about, not even unkindness; for that is a mistake which always brings its own retribution, silent or revealed. So we will talk of the gallant and gentle bearing and stalwart proportions of her lover with the crystal-hearted Rosalind; and repeat within hearing of the exiled Duke (for elderly gentlemen-especially aristocratic ones-love to hear themselves quoted) his own moral reflections upon the "sweet

uses of adversity;"-worthy, by the way, to be quoted at all seasons, for it is perfect in itself, and is an amulet to hang round the necks of the desponding. No one can know anything of Shakespeare and be ignorant of his first speech,

"Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile," &c. -Opening of Act ii.

The exiled Duke is a perfect exemplar of what should comprise a Christian's course-a cheerful gratitude for the benefits that have been showered upon him; a calm, yet firm endurance of adversity; a tolerance of unkindness; and a promptitude to forgive injuries. How sweet, and yet how strong is his moral nature! It seems as though no trial, social or physical, could change the current of his gracious wisdom. In a scene subsequent to that containing his celestial confession of moral faith, we have the proof that his philosophy is no cold profession merely,-no lip-deep ostentation,-no barren theory without practice. His conduct shows that his cheerful morality nestles in his heart, and inspires his actions. It is the seventh Scene of the second Act, where he and his followers are about to sit down to their woodland meal, when Orlando rushes in with his drawn sword, and demands food. There is in every point of the Duke's behaviour on this occasion, the forbearance, the gentleness, the charity, and the cordial courtesy which grow out of such philosophy as his—that of unaffected contentment. "Sweet are the uses of adversity," indeed, when they teach such lessons as these! We cannot fancy that this true-hearted gentleman could have so perfected his native character had he never known the reverse of fortune, which exiled him from his court, and sent him among the forest-trees to learn wisdom from all-bounteous Nature; to know the worth of his true friends, who forsook land and station to share his seclusion; and to secure a peace of soul seldom known to