The whole secret is there, but revealed to only those who may know.

The mystery of genius is being transformed into the unfoldment of power through conscious appropriation of one's own soul force. This unfoldment may be stimulated, but it cannot be hurried faster than one may consciously apprehend.

My work here is not to generalize, but to limit myself to the study of a single genius, and practically to that of his unfoldment as evi denced in the background of two of his plays. My introduction, therefore, is simply suggestive of the purport of our study. The student of Shakespeare notes his unfoldment by grouping his plays into four periods; each group reflects his thought and life at that particular period, and each represents a step upward in power till he stood alone-Master.

Shakespeare, a country lad, found his way to London. How, we do not know; but why we now do know. No conscious reasoning could have sent him thither, for his education and experience gave him no preparation for advancement in any field of labor in the metropolis. It must have been a suggestion from the subconscious. He then obeyed a soul command; that was the first step on the way to bring

into action the endowments of his soul. He found London, he found the theater; then, on conscious mind first dawned the possibilities of the use of those soul endowments. He commenced by revising old plays. This gave him some technical discipline in the use of language and taught him to appreciate the purpose of art, to please. A hurried glance at his literary growth is preliminary to my purpose.

Beginning with the retouching of old plays, he followed this with the writing of entire scenes as in "Titus Andronicus and "First Part of King Henry VI."-both attributed to Shakespeare, yet very little of his work in either. Next comes his first original comedy, "Love's Labor Lost" presenting sketchy characters, not fully defined. The rapid farce of "Comedy of Errors" followed, and then a pure vein of poetry was reached in "Midsummer Night's Dream." The Italian story next received his attention, and "Two Gentlemen of Verona," "All's Well that Ends Well" and "Romeo and Juliet" followed in quick succession. Then the writer seemed to lay hold of real life. He dropped rhyme to a large extent, and became bolder in his creations. "The Merchant of Venice," written doubtless in 1596, artistically breathed forth mastery-the artist suddenly conscious of some

thing brilliant. It was the outburst of the suc

of his own powers. domain of history, the historical plays

cessful man, at last sure He next ventured on the and one after another of followed. Then there came a pause, as though the day of brightness were ended to this author, and deep night settled around him. The master then plunged beneath the surface of life, within the utmost recesses of human thought, and there studied the mystery of evil. The tragedies of life were told. It was a period to the author, as many of his readers have perceived, following broken faith and broken pledges on the part of friends; and yet his belief in human virtue did not wholly desert him; in "Lear" there is a Cordelia, in "Measure for. Measure" (which is a bitter comedy, at best) an Isabella, in "Macbeth," a Banquo. Following this darkness came a brighter and purer sky, as though the writer came forth purified and strengthened. He then presented his four romance plays, "Pericles," "Cymbeline," "Winter's Tale" and "The Tempest." They sparkle with the delight of vigorous life, they glow with the heroism of noble womanhood and noble manhood, and they are sanctified by the godliness of forgiveness. Shakespeare's literary work has been thus grouped by

the Shakespeare Society of London. The first period is that of apprenticeship and experiment; the second gives us the comedies and historical plays; the third, the tragedies; and the fourth, the romance plays.

With this classification, we find "Midsummer Night's Dream" in the first group, and in the last group, "The Tempest." Between these two productions were the growth and development of the master literary genius of the world. As metaphysical students, as of that band striving to make occult proofs open to all, let us see if the poet has not presented us with the story of his own unfoldment in these two plays, which we may designate as his two, and as his only fairy plays.

Shakespeare was not over twenty-eight years old when he wrote "Midsummer Night's Dream," probably not more than twenty-six, as it is settled that the play was written as early as 1592, possibly as early as 1590. The "Tempest" was written in the latter part of 1610, so that the author devoted himself to vigorous literary work twenty years after writing his first, before he wrote his second fairy play.

The "Dream" is a great advance on what Shakespeare had produced before. His fancy was in full glow, and it delighted in boyish fun.

Dr. Furnivall, of the London Shakespeare Society says: "It is a poem, a dream, rather than a play," and Edgar A. Poe wrote: "When I am asked for a definition of poetry, I think of Titania and Oberon of the Midsummer Night's Dream.' As we study this play, for my present purpose, it is not for the successions of incidents and scenery and humor and fun; it is not for its poetic thought which fills imagination with a world of suggestions on which to build ideals; it is not for the triple stories of the loves of devoted lovers; but for the great background of it all. Back of all these creations of fancy is their creator who gave this brilliant love-song to the world. His creations we know, but it is him, the creator, whom we would know. Let us recall first, the young author striving, in that remarkable Elizabethan age, to hold his place as a dramatist among the university men (led by Ben Jonson) who all had read much Latin and much Greek. He could not call on scholarship for aid, for that temple he had not yet entered; but fancy's realm was open to all, and no boundary lines have ever been drawn to the limitless world imagination covers. In one speech only of Theseus does the author put himself in this

creation.