He has another artistic subtlety, in the resemblance with which he has invested Celia's wit in its congenial quality with that of her cousin. It is the resemblance-totally apart from the servility of imitation or plagiarism-which unconsciously colours the thoughts and mode of speech of one who lovingly admires another. Rosalind is Celia's ideal of excellence-morally, intellectually, and personally and she unwittingly allows her heart, mind, and frame to become as much one as possible with those of this cherished being. Her spirit assimilates by intensity of appreciation, as her exterior conforms, in matters of gesture, conduct, and habit, by daily and affectionate companionship. This is no copying; it is just the similarity, the accordance, that naturally grows out of a strong and enduring attachment. As an example of what I mean, with regard to this resemblance in the tone of the two cousins' imaginative wit, I would point to the circumstance of their both dealing in classical and poetical allusions, which seems to tell of their having read together, thought together, and discussed together the beauties of the old mythology. This is remarkable; for the instances might be multiplied to a curious extent. It is a singular thing, as a corroboration of the loving terms on which Celia feels herself with her cousin, of the perfect ease of heart which reigns between them, and which characterises the regard that Celia bears towards Rosalind,that the flow of wit, which betokens Celia to be no less accomplished in intellectual sprightliness than her cousin, always pours forth most freely when she is alone with Rosalind. When they are both in the company of others, she stands tranquilly by, letting her brilliant cousin take the lead in conversation and bandy repartee with the rest. She seems not only content, but best pleased, to listen while Rosalind gives free scope to her gay-souled sallies. When they are by them D selves, she rejoins, retorts, and tosses jests to and fro, with as playful animation as her friend,-bantering her, teasing her, sporting with her curiosity, plaguing and joking her about her love and her lover, with as hearty a spirit, as much roguery and mischief, as much pretended mercilessness of wit, as need be. But, true to her kindly nature, her humour is always affectionate, her sportiveness ever gentle; and both have the genuine soul of kindness-they know when to cease. Celia, loving Celia, always checks the career of her wit, when it curvets beyond the comfort of her interlocutor. She regards the feelings of her friend, even beyond the prosperity of her jest, a rare virtue in a wit, more especially in a womanwit. But Celia is pre-eminently womanly. She has the best qualities of womanly nature. She is devoted, constant, femininely gentle, yet frank and firm in opinion. She has touches of warmth, both of liking and disliking-of out-and-out eager partizanship, and at times of vehement indignation; and these qualities are essentially womanly. For instance, how like a woman in its acknowledgment of the want of personal strength her taking refuge in a crafty device and that an unfair one -is that exclamation of hers when Orlando is about to try his match with Charles, the wrestler. She says:-" I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg." One would swear that none but a woman would have thought of that speech. Then observe her womanly delicacy, and discretion too, on behalf of her cousin Rosalind, who betrays her incipient love for Orlando by returning towards him, affecting to think that she hears him address them, and saying: "He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes : This palpable hint is enough for Celia; and Orlando, not able to respond to it, being overpowered with his own newborn passion for Rosalind, Celia smilingly recalls her friend with the words, "Will you go, coz?" Again, afterwards, what nice consideration and complete womanly tact she betrays, when Rosalind, recovering from her swoon, well-nigh reveals the secret of her disguise by answering Oliver's, "Well, then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man," with "So I do; but i'faith, I should have been a woman by right;" Celia interposes, and says, "Come, you look paler and paler; pray you draw homewards. Good sir, go with us." Even those simple words, "Good sir, go with us," are in perfect keeping with the feminine beauty of the character. They secure support for her fainting cousin, and secure the prolonged stay of the man with whom she has just begun to feel herself falling fast and deeply in love. The whole of this "love at first sight" on her part, is managed with Shakespeare's masterly skill. I have always felt those three little speeches to be profoundly true to individual nature, where the ladies are questioning Oliver respecting the incident of the lioness and the snake in the forest, and of Orlando's timely succour. Celia exclaims, in amazement, "Are you his brother?" Rosalind says, "Was it you he rescued?" And Celia rejoins, "Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?" Celia's first exclamation is surprised concern to find that this stranger, who interests her, is that unnatural brother of whom she has heard. Rosalind's thought is of her lover,-Orlando's generosity in rescuing one who has hitherto behaved so unnaturally towards himself; while Celia recurs to the difficulty she has in reconciling the image of one who has acted basely and cruelly, with him she sees before her-who is speedily becoming to her the impersonation of all that is attractive, estimable, and loveable in man. Her affectionate nature cannot persuade itself to believe this villany of him; she therefore incredulously reiterates, "Was't YOU that did so oft contrive to kill him?" And his reply is a beautiful evidence of the sweetness which beams transparent in her; since it already influences him, by effecting a confirmation of the virtuous resolves to which his brother's generosity has previously given rise, and by causing him to fall as suddenly in love with her, as she with him. He says: "'Twas I; but 'tis not I ;-I do not shame It is one of the refined beauties that distinguish Shakespeare's metaphysical philosophy, to show us how a fine nature acting upon an inferior one, through the subtle agency of love, operates beneficially to elevate and purify. At one process it proclaims its own excellence, and works amelioration in another. Celia's charm of goodness wins the unkind brother of Orlando (Oliver) to a passionate admiration of herself, at the same time that it excites his emulation to become worthy of her. It begins by teaching him the bravery of a candid avowal of his crime-the first step towards reformation. Celia's loving-kindness, like all true loving-kindness, hath this twofold virtue and grace; it no less benefits her friends than adorns herself. In enumerating the touches that go to make up the exquisite character of Celia-a character often too lowly rated, from the circumstance of its being seen in juxtaposition with the more brilliant Rosalind, (for, in fact, its own mild radiance of loving-kindness is no less intense; it is only less striking than the vivid intellectual sunshine of her cousin ;)-in alluding, I say, to the lovely touches that characterise her, I would not omit to note that interesting and natural one, where, on Rosalind's swooning, Celia's first impulse is to call upon her by the old familiar name of "Cousin!" The hurry of anxiety for her she so loves causes the old fond word to spring to her lips: the next moment, however, the womanly instinct, the feminine presence of mind, come to her aid, and she redeems the inadvertency by exclaiming "Ganymede!" It is a glowing instance of Shakespeare's prodigality of loving resources, and his potency, as well as plenitude of means to inspire infinity of liking, that he makes us admire and love Rosalind the more for her vicinity to the sweethearted Celia, and Celia the more for hers to the bewitching Rosalind. We love and esteem each the better for the other's sake. Shakespeare has this in common with Nature-and how many qualities does he not possess in common with her? The love he causes us to feel for his several characters-individually distinct and dissimilar as they may be, or sympathetic and analogous one with the other as they may be— never interferes with your love for them all. In teaching us to see the enchanting qualities that embellish a Rosalind, he never lets us lose sight of the tender devotion and unselfish beauty that distinguish a Celia. In making us feel the full value of a gentle, affectionate being like Celia, he never suffers us to overlook the grace and fascination of her cousin. Like the love which Nature puts into our heart-with its own bounteous magic, it fills our soul for one selected object, while it still affords room for loving regard and estimation towards all existing human merit. Nay, the exclusive preference for the one beloved, but expands our capacity for perceiving excellence elsewhere, and for yielding it our admiration and our loving-kindness. We have another proof of the estimation in which Shakespeare held a cheerful philosophy, in the personal qualities he has given to Touchstone, the clown. Touchstone-the universal favourite-the man of mirth and good-humour; but |