mercy that "droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath," only to be answered by Shylock, that son of the crucifying priesthood, 66 - My deeds upon my head."

The touching lament of Horatio, at Hamlet's death, points to the source of his consolation, —

"Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

The chorus of the morning stars is echoed in Lorenzo's words to Jessica,

"There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st

But in his motion like an angel sings

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.”

No one can doubt the psalm Queen Margaret had read when she called Richard III —

"A foul defacer of God's handiwork."

Was it theology that Clarence urged upon him who came into the Tower armed for murder?

"I charge you, as you hope to have redemption
By Christ's dear blood, shed for our grievous sins,
That you depart, and lay no hands on me."

More than history is blazoned in the description of

"Those holy fields,

Over whose acres walked those blessed feet,
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed
For our advantage on the bitter cross."

Apostolic doctrine breathes in Salisbury's words

in Henry VI,

"Now by the death of Him that died for all."

The source of treachery is laid open in the words of William to King Henry,

"All offences, my liege, come from the heart.”

The sacred warnings against sin, and the stinging woes that follow, are not weakened in the words of King Richard III: —

"My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale."

And every tale condemns me for a villain."

That repentance is no meaningless word even King Lear taught,

"Woe, that too late repents."

Vanity of prayer in form without the spirit was hidden in the confession of Claudius,

"My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;
Words without thoughts never to Heaven go."

Richard II in the dungeon of Pomfret Castle recalls at once the invitation and how hard it is to obey, in setting "the Word itself against the Word,

"As thus; Come, little ones; and then again—

It is as hard to come, as for a camel

To thread the postern of a needle's eye."

Hamlet finds his text in Job when he speaks of

"The undiscovered country from whose bourn

No traveller returns."

Lady Constance in King John thus addresses the Pope's legate, —

"Father Cardinal, I have heard you say

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven:

If that be true, I shall see my boy again."

Terrors of the Judgment creep in upon the soul, as the great Apostle had written to the Romans:

"In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice;
But 'tis not so above.

There is no shuffling; there the action lies

In his true nature; and we ourselves compelled,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,

To give in evidence."

Prospero, in the Tempest, refers to the image so

vivid in the Epistle of Peter,

"Like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind."

From earliest to latest book of Scripture the truths have been seized upon and woven into the immortal dramas. Of this life and the next there is no weariness. The truth is not destroyed. The vision of the Seer of Patmos weighs upon the Duke of Norfolk in King Richard II,

"No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor,
My name be blotted from the Book of Life,
And I from heaven banished, as from hence! "

All these are but the few reminders of Shakespeare's work. It is this borrowing from the Book of books that has fastened his deeper hold upon the human race; and the Book in turn has given

him an added power. The life and power of all literature are proportioned to their agreement with what is taught in the oldest Book.

Prof. Brewer in "English Studies or Essays says of Shakespeare: "I do not fear to say that I believe him to be the most religious poet in the language; as much or more than Milton himself, except in one particular.”

What is so true of Shakespeare is verified in "the Homer of modern citizen life," as Taine has called Sir Walter Scott. He gained his marvelous power in no mean degree from the Book whose chapters gave him solace in his dying hour. Among all his twenty thousand volumes this book was without a peer.

The Wizard of the North clothed the scenes of Scottish history with the coloring of Bible story. He recounts the story of Eden to make his landscapes beautiful. He flings the rainbow over the hills; "such a rainbow was never seen in France or Flanders since that of Noah's Ark." Sinai finds its place among the mountains of the North. The wilderness of Israel's wanderings casts its shadows over the forests that are pictured by his pen. Nimrod the mighty hunter finds "worthy successors" in "Rob Roy" and "The Monastery."