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determined by a random selection of quotations nor can it be discovered by a merely superficial perusal of the entire play. It must rather be deduced from the total effect of the play upon the spmpathetically intelligent reader. In what state of soul does it leave him. Is he perturbed or has some voice spoken—"Peace beginning to be, deep as the sleep of the sea!" Is he left in skepticism as to the existence of the eternal verities or have his highest aspirations and intuitions received reinforcement? These questions answered, we have the moral of the play and then by a careful re-reading, the whole plan of the work is clearly seen to work naturally and artistically toward a definite end.
Proceeding according to the method above described let us see how we shall fare, buffeting "The Tempest." From beginning to end our interest centers in Prospero the injured Duke of Milan. He claims our sympathy though we never, for a moment, deem him an object of pity. He is too regal, too great to serve as the object of such a sentiment. Grievously wronged as he has been, he is yet richer far than his enemies in the enjoyment of their ill-gotten wealth and honors. He has a goodly kingdom within himself—a mind bounteously furnished with the adornments of culture, and a spirit by its rectitude rendered not impervious but superior to the "thorns and natural shocks that flesh is heir to." He serenely bides his time, meanwhile cultivating his powers; educating his beauteous daughter; keeping the fountains of love and sympathy open. By a convenient fiction he is endowed with supernatural power thus surrounding him with an additional element of fascination while at the same time symbolizing the fundamental moral of the drama.
And now his opportunity arrives—"the wheel has come full circle" and his enemies are within his reach. He sends forth his supernatural agents who quickly lash the sea into fury and "incense all the creatures against the peace" of the offenders. His high charm works and Prospero's enemies are "all knit up in their distractions." But now the high nobility of the man shines forth as he contemplates the
pitiable state of his fallen foes. Indeed, there is nothing in the play to indicate that Prospero had ever entertained a project of mere revenge. Ariel's plea in behalf of the offenders was superfluous. There is naught to show but that from the very beginning "the sole drift of Prospero's purpose extended not a frown further than their penitence." He did not at the moment of Ariel's suggestion discover suddenly that "the rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance," for in Act III Ariel had announced to the "three men of sin" that heart's sorrow and a clear life ensuing—the best definition of Repentance to be found in all Christian literature—could guard them from the wrath of the powers, and these powers be it remembered were working in harmony with the purposes of Prospero. In truth, the utmost that Prospero does under the veil of his art is to deliver over these offenders to the natural consequences of their lives. Stephano, Caliban and Trinculo are afflicted with aches, pains and cramps but these are the natural concomitants of their bestial habits. The Tempest itself is but the analogue of the moral turmoil within the souls of those servants of sin. The supernaturalism of this play is indeed most natural. The thought is expressed in the familiar scripture "whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap." In the play we see the softer attribute of mercy stealing in through the avenue of penitence. Prospero, "touched with the feeling of their infirmities," forgives his enemies, breaks his magician's wand and "drowns his book deeper than did ever plummet sound."
The foregoing contains all that is essential to the moral of "The Tempest." What now, is the general effect upon our moral consciousness, of these considerations? Are our moral demands satisfied? Has the "Tempest" subsided and is our treasure safe? Uuquestionably these questions are to be answered in the affirmative. "The Tempest" was raised that it might be allayed. It was raised by Power against Sin upon the demand of Justice. It was calmed by the same Power in view of Penitence, upon the demand of Love. Says Victor Hugo,