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For Woman’s Work.
A LITTLE HERE AND THERE.
A penny here and a penny there,
And away goes the hard' earned money,
As a taste to-day and a taste to-morrow,
Empties the jar of honey.
For pennies make dimes,and dimes make dollars,
And dollars make fifties, and so on,
But scatter the pence with wasteful hand,
And dollars have naught to grow on.
’Tis the little here, and the little there,
That adds to the world’s great measure,
And a little thing each day will bring
Unto us woe or pleasure;
For the wicked thought, and the envious wish
Make the heart grow hard and cruel,
And the bitter answer and wrathful look,
To the fire of hate adds fuel.
But the kind word falls like a soft caress,
On the heart o’ercharged with trouble,
Au 1 good seeds sown on wild broad land
Bring us a harvest double.
M. J. Meader-Smith,
For Woman’s Work.
A STUDY OF SHAKESPEARE’S
“MERCHANT OF VENICE.’’
<TIIE STUDY of Shakespeare is a
constant source of pleasure and
profit to lovers of literature, and
those who would enter this rich field,
.where so many are reaping benefit, will
find in “The Merchant of Venice” an
excellent starting point.
“The Merchant of Venice” is classified
as Shakespeare's middle comedy, standing
as it does, midway between the earlierand
later comedies, and having in part the
characteristics of both groups. The date
of its writing is probably 1596
The materials of this play are borrowed,
as is usual with Shakespeare. The chief
incidents of the plot are taken from stories
familiar throughout Europe, during the
middle ages—stories found in the “ Gesta
Romanorum.” Boccacio’s “DeCameron,”
Fiorentino’s “Il Pecarone,” etc. In spite
of the borrowed materials, however, the
originality of the play, in imagination, in
characterization, and in management of
plot, can never be denied.
The scene of the play is Venice. Life
is depicted as it existed under the blue
Italian skies; on the streets, in business
circles, ia the court room, and in the home.
Society in various phases is portrayed by
a master pen.
The story of the play may be briefly
told. Antonio, a wealthy merchant, is
unaccountably melancholy, and a group of
friends gather round him to cheer him.
He is soon left alone with Bassanio, his
best loved friend, and the two enter into
confidential talk. Bassanio is in love, but
he lacks the means to hold a place among
the suitors of Portia of Belmont. Antonio
readily agrees to lend him money, but in
order to do so, he finds it necessary to try
his credit. The two friends bargain with
Shylock, a Jewish money lender, for three
thousand ducats for three months, for which
Antonio shall become bound. Shylock, after
reviewing in bitterness the causes of enmity
between himself and Christians, feigns a
merry humor, and oilers to lend the money
gratis, on condition that the forfeit of the
bond shall be a pound of Antonio’s flesh.
Antonio consents and the bond is sealed.
Bassanio goes to Belmont, accompanied by
a friend, Gratiano. There his fate as
Portia’s suitor is determined, in accordance
with her father’s will, by a choice of cas
kets placed before him. Turning from the
gold and silver, he chooses “ meagre lead,”
and finds within his casket “fair Portia’s
counterfeit,” together with a scroll giving
him right to claim the lady. Together
they rejoice in their newly found happiness.
Gratiano and Nerissa, Portia’s maid, have
meanwhile followed their example. Fes
tivities are interrupted by the arrival of
Solanio and two runaway lovers, Lorenzo
and Jessica. The former brings news that
Antonio’s ships have miscarried, his bond
is forfeited, and the Jew demands .his life.
Bassanio, with Gratiano, hastens to Venice,
and is present at the trial, for Shylock has
appealed to law. As the trial is going on,
a young doctor of laws, sent by the learned
Bellario of Padua, enters. (Portia in dis
guise). The case is put into her hands,
and she makes every effort to move the
hard-hearted Jew from his purpose, but all
in vain. At last she turns the letter of the
the law upon him. He has sought the life
of a citizen, and, by the laws of Venice,
his goods are confiscate and his life is at
the mercy of the duke. In mercy, life is
granted him and one-half his goods
restored, on condition that he become a
Christian and “ record a gift of all he dies
possessed unto his son Lorenzo and his
daughter.” He yields, and leaves the
court room crushed. Portia, with Nerissa,
who has acted as her page, hastens home
to receive Bassanio, Antonio, etc. Expla
nations about her disguise follow, and all
ends merry as a marriage bell.
When the play has been read through
rapidly, the entire plot grasped, and the
relation of the characters to each other
learned, we are ready to study it act by
act.
One of the most pleasant features of the
work in hand is the study of the charac
ters, their portrayal, and their action in the
play. “ The Merchant of Venice ’ presentsa
number of varied characters, each of indi
vidual worth and each of worth in his
relation to the plot.
Act I. introduces the story with a fore
shadowing in the melancholy of Antonio,
of the chief plot of the play. Before the
act closes the plot has been decided by
Antonio agreeing to Shylock’s terms.
In Act 11. the characters are developed,
and the play goes rapidly forward to the
culmination of the plot in Act 111., Saene 1.,
lines ninety-seven and ninety-eight, where
Shylock declares, “ I’ll plague him;
I’ll torture him; I am glad of it.” Act
IV. gives the result of Portia’s effort in
Antonio’s behalf, and Act V. ends the play
in a happy adjustment of affairs.
Dramatically, Antonio is the centre of
interest. He is bound, he is persecuted, he
is saved; but he is bound for Bassanio, is
persecuted by Shylock and is saved by
Portia. His is a passive character. Yet
there are within him great possibilities, as
evidenced by his words and deeds, and by
the testimony of the words and deeds of
others. He is a model friend, an upright
citizen, a true man; his virtues far out
number his faults.
However, individual interest centres in
Shylock, “the strength,” and Portia,“the
beauty of the play.” These two, contrast
ing in character, nationality, religion, and
the circumstances of life, are brought
together in the trial scene. In the first
three acts, we learn something of the
motives that control their life. Shylock,
shrewd, calculating, full of prejudice, unfor
giving, and revengeful, is mainly moved
by avarice and hate. He stands as a type
of a down-troddeli, persecuted people, and
as such, he makes a strong appeal against
the treatment of his race by Christians;
but Shylock, the persecuted Hebrew, is
overshadowed in the play by Shylock, the
revengeful Jew. All the powers of his
strong nature are perverted. All within
him that might have made him grand and
good, but serve to make the ruling passions
of his life more effective in their terrible
workings. So opposed is his character to
all that is noble and pure, that when his
overthrow comes, we feel that it is right
and necessary for him to be thus crushed.
On the other hand, Portia’s life is
directed by right principles. She is bright,
thoughtful, earnest, pure and unselfish—
sound of head and heart. Her character
is strong and lovely, suiting well the mis
sion which it is hers to accomplish. When,
at Antonio’s trial, she is opposed to the
hard-hearted Jew, it is the opposition of
Right to Wrong, of Mercy to Revenge.
We rejoice in the triumph of the former.
In order to accomplish her purpose—to.
release Antonio and maintain her hus
band’s honor—Portia finds it necessary to
take advantage of a legal quibble, and the
skill with which she handles it is admira
ble. However, the use of this quibble is
not in accordance with her wish in the
matter, for her desire is to do good to all,
even to old Shylock. With all the earnest
ness of her nature, she tenderly appeals to
his mercy, she delays, she watches for some
effect, she appeals to his avarice, she
endeavors to move his pity, she yearns for
him to rise above his cruel nature and
relent. Her address to mercy gives us the
key-note of her character.
Bassanio is prominent among the lesser
characters of the play, and is important as
Antonio's friend and Portia’s lover. He
is a necessary link in the chain of the plot.
Gratiano, the ever merry one, serves as
a counter-balance to the sad Antonio, and
his quick wit enhances every scene in
which he appears. His character, together
with that of Launcelot, adds much to the
humor of the comedy. The latter plays
the part of the conceited fool. His rela
tion to Shylock and Jessica throws light
upon their characters.
The runaway Jessica’s conduct helps us
to understand something of Shylock’s
home life; while “ the lyrical boy and girl
love of Lorenzo and Jessica brings out by
contrast the glad earnestness of Portia’s
love and Bassanio’s.”
“The Merchant of Venice” affords
various types of Shakespeare’s humor. In
Act I. Scene 11., it is bright, sharp, satirical;
in Act 11., Scene 11., it is broad, rollicking,
even farcical; in Act 111., Scene IV., lines
60-78, it is light and playful; in Act IV.,
during the trial scene, it is fierce, bitter
wit (the “awful mirth” of Gratiano;) and
as the play draws to a close, it finds ex
pression in the somewhat silly little episode
of the rings. This undertone of humor
gives liveliness to the play, and in Acts
IV. and V. the joke about the ring serves
to relieve the tragic effect of the trial
scene, making it possible for the play to
close, as comedy should, with a pleasing
impression.
WOMAN’S WORK.
An important question to be asked, be
fore our study closes, is: What is the cen
tral thought and teaching of the play?
In answer we quote from various critics:
“Avarice over-reaching itself.”—Smith.
“ Friendship the harmonizer of life.”—Kellogg.
“The poet wished to delineate man’s relation
to property.”—Gervinus.
“ The centre of gravity of the play lies in Por
tia’s address to Mercy ” —Karl Elze.
“Summum jus, summa injuria (the rigor of
the law is the rigor of oppression.)”—Dr. Ulrici.
“‘The Merchant of Venice’ is based upon a
purely couciliatory love, and upon mediating
mercy as opposed to the law and what is called
right.”—Franz Horn.
All agree in conceding to the play lofty
moral tone and teaching.
A Student of the Ch autauqua School
of English.
The references in this study are to the edition
of the play, found in Smith’s “Studies in English
Literature.”
For Woman’s Work.
IB IT WEALTH OR WORTH P
UY ZULA B COOK.
Though we know that money is the
essential moving power with which the
engines of commerce are succe a sfully pro
pelled, is there any sane reason why it
should form so potent a factor in every
theme and act of life? Everywhere its
clangish praises are grating upon the re
fined ear. Everything feels the perni
cious touch of its poisonous talons. At
home and abroad, on the streets, in the
ball room, in society, in day school—even
in the church—are found many noxious
blossoms of thistly pride. It will ever be
thus, you say ? Perhaps it will, but there
is one kind which, for the welfare of our
homes—to say nothing of the safety of our
souls—should be effectually crushed. It is
that so broadly practiced by wife and
mother. Think of a wedded companion,
pledged before the eyes of heaven and earth
to be a helpmeet for man, sojourning at
home, but living in reality with the world
at large. And pity, O. pity the mother
who has consigned to her care a number
of impressionable little minds, and who is
daily hanging upon the walls of their
easily transformed hearts varied scenes
of vanity ancl false pride. Almost the first
thing the beamy blue eyes behold is a vis
ion of wealth in fine clothes; and decidedly
the first thing the intellect imbibes after
the lullaby days of the nursery, is an
undue fondness for dress, draping sashes,
knotting ribbons, manipulating bang
papers and the diversified performances
of the powder, puff and black pencil.
Regretful, undeniable facts! Would that
each day, instead of new victims, could
develop apostates to these Abaddon-like
principles of wealth I Money would not
be the “root of all evil,” if moderation
and sagacity were exercised therewith.
Much good might accrue from its posses
sion, it maintained by practical, dispensing
hands. There is more excuse, possibly for
the transgressions of young girls and boys
of corresponding ages, since to them the
sun shines brighter, the shades fall lighter,
but at no age, at no time, should it be the
belvedere of one’s hopes, lest when the
coveted attitude be reached, it fail to con
tent one’s craving expectations.
There are many who do not pursue this
course from preference, but are rather
pushed along the line by disciples, and
who have not self-confidence sufficient to
step boldly aside and assert a right for
pious sensibilities, through fear of public
ridicule. Let others laugh and scorn ; let
others apply the descriptive adjectives
anile and anomalous to your name as per
sistently as they like; sensible, thinking
minds, and pure acting hearts know which*
is just, and you should not permit yourself
misguided by dudes, coquettes and drivelers.
The many-times-used proverb that “ money
does not make the man,” grows truer with
each repetition,as the oft-mentioned names
of Webster, Fulton, Leydon and others
still remind us that energy and morality
have ever been the beacon lights by which
men of position have been harbored to
success. The silk-beavered young man
may flaunt his jewels, sow his gold and reap
his reward of insipid luxuries, but through
this dazzling camera of wealth can be seen
a deficit of common sense and moral worth.
The extravagantly-gowned young lady
may sweep her skirts of silk and velvet,
and bring into utility all the possibilities
of opulence, yet can you not see, rising
above her throne of elegance, the unmis
taken smoke of triviality and wicked folly ?
Though money holds enthralled the ma
jority of individuals, lot the few believers
in moral worth band themselves into a
stronger circle, and resist the degenerating
influence of the golden god. Instead oi
moneyed wealth, let us strive for a wealth
of principle, virtue and righteousness.
Almost the entire world is scrambling for
its possession, and yielding to its venomous
magnetism; yet their realizations are dis
appointing, as fateless kingdoms and
empires, and miserable palaces testify.
Moneyed wealth causes nearly all of the
unnatural sorrows of this world; it is the
wind-flower of life, scattering its noxious
seeds throughout the land—enticing ad
miration, while moral worth is an earthly
balm, healing to absorb, purifying to
inhale—thus rendering life a series of
triumphs, with its truer, grander incen
tives in view.
For Woman’s Work.
ARE BOOKS OR PERSONS THE
MORE DESIRABLE SOCIETY P
BERTHA H. STEWART.
The above question was asked me the
other day.
Much—all—depends on the choice of
the individual. There are books and
books, just as there are people and people.
To associate with one of inferior intellect,
must be, in the long run, injurious, as
“ mind makes itself like that it lives
amidst, and on.” High thought cannot
long endure amid gross associations;
ethereal dreams suffer by material sur
roundings. Persons are affected by per
sons; a particularly sensitive mind will
quickly yield to a stronger influence, either
for good or evil; but to yield to the good
influence of another is always a gain for
ourselves.
Books are, perhaps—for some surely—
the best of associates; however, they are
beneficial or injurious according as they
are applied. The mind is easily impressed,
and unconsciously forms habits, which, like
all other habits, grow with use, stronger
and harder to resist. Thought—the de
gree and the depth and purity of thought—•
become matters of habit; insidious in de
velopment if detrimental, but nevertheless
sure, unless checked at an early moment.
Thought, furthermore, influences actions
and springs directly from constant associ
ations and surroundings. As books and
literature go very far in forming our minds,
they should be carefully and thoughtfully
chosen. Impure books are as un wholesome
as bad food ; for they are as much a men
tal food as meat and drink are physical
sustenances. One would never think of
inviting a friend to a meal unfit to be
eaten, and I see no reason why one should
offer to the mind of another, matters of
thought which may injure or impair either
the serenity or purity of intellect. Nor
should one confine themselves to a certain
line of thought or reading, and give but
little or no heed to any other.
Reading, which keeps the mind with
in the boundary of a certain line of
opinions, serves not only to narrow
thought, but gives contorted and false
ideas of many things and conditions
of things. We owe our moral upright
ness to our thoughts; an elevated mind
is a safeguard of virtue. Never mind if
your mental attainments are mediocre, so
their purpose is good and their influence
potent. In associating with men, the good
and the bad are more frequently mingled,
and the man whose’works may influence
us to the best of our abilities might, of him
self, never have done so. You cannot
always resist the personality of a person,
but you can close a book and lay it aside !
It often happens that many of those men
who wrote so beautifully were men of
gross habits; but it is the better part of
them which is left to the world; and it may
be that their associates did not come so near
to the better part of them, in those days in
which they lived, as the world has since,
through the written records they have left.
It is hard to believe what tradition tells
us of Byron, when we read his exquisite
verses; and I never think of the many stories
of Charles Dickens’ life, when I pick up
those immortal tales by which he has made
so many happy. For every smile he has
created, I feel sure he is forgiven a mis
deed; and is as happy as those who love
him and his memory, can wish.
Those books and those people only are
good, who influence us to some good, and
make a responsive chord of sweetness
within us. Evil never springs from good,
though good may sometimes spring from
evil. Good may be misused, but it cannot
be evil. The world is critical; a man may
be of himself what he will—but his works
must be what the world wills. Formerly,
a writer was allowed greater license, but
now public opinion prescribes the limit,
and he must keep within the written and
understood law. W hether “ books or peo
ple are the more desirable society,” is a
question which each individual may best
answer for himself. For my part, I think
that each helps to make the other benflcial,
for the one may contain fallacious ideas
which the other will serve to correct. Since
we may avail ourselves of both, why lose
either; why lose any opportunity for in
tellectual and moral improvement?
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