not recognize, carry his love-letters to Silvia. In Twelfth Night (I, v, 180-318) Duke Orsino has Viola, who is disguised as page, intercede with Olivia. Each page loves the person whom she is serving and eventually has her love reciprocated. The picture, the ring, and the purse, are common elements in the two scenes. But in the presentation of the situation in Twelfth Night there are changes, changes necessitated by the demands of the plot and by the improved artistic sense of the dramatist. For example, in the former play, Julia procures from Silvia her picture, and after Silvia's departure comments upon it, comparing it with her own likeness. In Twelfth Night the incident is changed. Viola likens Olivia's face to a picture, which, having been unveiled, she praises at length, and advises Olivia to leave the world a copy. The ring which Julia carries from Proteus to Silvia is rejected outright. In Twelfth Night the ring episode is changed. Olivia sends the ring after Viola, who is supposed to have left it behind. At her departure, Julia accepts from Silvia a purse; on the other hand, Viola, going away, is proffered a purse by Olivia, and declines it. On the whole, the situation in Twelfth Night seems to be superior in exposition, in handling of incident, and in general dramatic effect.*

These situations readily suggest those in which one woman falls in love with another. In The Two Gentlemen, Silvia is for a time infatuated with Julia; in Twelfth Night, Olivia falls in love with Viola (I, v, 310-317); in As You Like It, Phebe loves Rosalind. The comedy of these situations is exquisite, and may be partially explained by the fact that the audience and one party are in the secret, and can fully appreciate the incongruity of the relationship of the characters.

A situation in The Two Gentlemen (I, ii, 1-35) in which Julia and her servant, Lucetta, discuss the former's suitors, is evidently repeated in The Merchant of Venice (I, ii, 39-132) in which Portia and Nerissa discuss the suitors. There is this general difference: in The Two Gentlemen, Julia names

'It is noteworthy that the names Valentine and Sebastian are common to the two plays.

the suitors and Lucetta, the maid, remarks upon each one; in The Merchant of Venice, Nerissa runs through the list of suitors and Portia characterizes each. By giving the comment to Portia instead of the maid, as in The Two Gentlemen, the dramatist immediately enlarges the comic possibilities of the situation. Portia's characterization of her suitors is much superior to that by Lucetta, and the scene is expanded in The Merchant of Venice to almost three times the length of the original. The situation seems to me to afford additional evidence that Shakespeare was consciously improving his art, even though he was not employing altogether new material.

In the soliloquies of Launcelot in The Merchant of Venice (II, ii, 1-33), I feel that there is a definite relation to the soliloquies of Launce in The Two Gentlemen (II, ii, 1-35; IV, iv, 1 ff). Launce's soliloques concern his dog, but he puts them in an argumentative form and seems to present to the audience the pros and cons of the situation. Launcelot in his debate with his conscience whether he should run away from the Jew follows the same general method. The function of these clowns in the respective plays, as well as their similarity in name, may also be significant.

The Antonio-Sebastian story (II, i, 1-49) of shipwreck forms the enveloping action of Twelfth Night, just as the Egeon-Emilia story (I, i, 30-96; V, i, 341 ff) constitutes the enveloping action in The Comedy of Errors. In Twelfth Night, we recognize the situation of geon in that of the sea captain, Antonio. Arrested in a hostile town, he is detained in custody while mistaken identity is causing bewilderment. The difficulties that arise when the arrested Antonio claims from Viola the purse he had entrusted to her representative, Sebastian (III, iii, 38-46 and III, iv, 360-405) are similar to those that help to complicate the comic error of Antipholus of Ephesus, who sends Dromio of Syracuse for money to make bail. Mention of the signs of the Phoenix and the Elephant; the proposed rendezvous there; and the walk, meanwhile, to view the manners of the town, peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, the invitation of Sebastian, mistaken for Cesa

rio, to Olivia's home, Malvolio's imprisonment as a madman, the observance of the unities indicate agreements with The Comedy of Errors and recurrence to previous composition.

It is interesting to note, however, the changes Shakespeare makes in Twelfth Night of material he had previously employed in The Comedy of Errors. The expository passages setting forth the condition of Antonio, Sebastian, and Viola, are more concise and more natural than similar passages explaining the circumstances which brought Egeon and his family to Ephesus. The mistaken identity theme is less elaborate; and by use of disguise, and by Viola's presentiment of the truth, rendered more credible. Finally, the characters in Twelfth Night are better motivated, and the incidents wrought into a more perfect unity.

By way of conclusion, I venture to suggest that this study, inadequate as it is, affords evidence in support of Professor Neilson's generalization that "in the mechanics of his plays, Shakespeare repeats himself freely. When a device, a situation, a contrast of character, proved successful on the stage, he did not scruple to use it again and again, displaying in the variations he worked on it abundant cleverness, but at the same time a poverty, or better, an economy of invention, in striking contrast to the lavish prodigality in thought and imagery.'' There is considerable evidence to support the theory that Shakespeare began his career as a reviser of old plays. It can be demonstrated, I think, that many of his plays are based on older plays. His tendency to use in his comedies material previously employed is, therefore, consistent in general with his habit of recasting whole plays and with that of other authors, ancient and modern, who repeat subject-matter in their literary productions.

A study of the variable repetitions in the plays furnishes evidence of the gradual development of Shakespeare's art. Such a study indicates that, whatever talent Nature may have

'Neilson, Shakespeare's Complete Works (Camb. Ed.), Intro., p. xvii,

1910.

endowed him with, Shakespeare probably acquired by dint of careful study and repeated experiment the power to produce successful plays. The study assists us, furthermore, in determining in what respects Shakespeare really excelled. Certainly he was not supreme in the invention of plots, nor preeminently in the creation of new types of character. His superiority consists rather in perfecting such plots and types of character as he found at hand. "In range, in individuality, above all, in the illusion of life, there had been nothing in dramatic literature comparable to this endless procession of actual human beings." Finally, Shakespeare was superior as a poet. He attained a "consummate mastery of versenow sweet and lyrical, now throbbing with passion, now echoing the tread of armies, now heavy with thought." It was for these qualities that Ben Jonson wrote of Shakespeare, "He was not of an age, but for all time."

"Neilson, op. cit., intro.. p. xvii

BY THOMAS E. FERGUSON

Immediately after Joel Chandler Harris had achieved his great literary success in the production of Uncle Remus, he made two significant statements; namely, that he was a journalist and nothing else, and that he was an accidental author. In an article in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine he says concerning his employment by the Countryman: "This was the accidental beginning of a career that has been accidental throughout. It was an accident that I went to the Countryman, an accident that I wrote Uncle Remus, and an accident that stories put forth under that name struck the popular fancy. In some respects these accidents are pleasing, but in others they are embarrassing. For instance, people persist in considering me a literary man, when I am a journalist and nothing else. I have no literary training, and know nothing at all of what is termed literary art."" These statements are significant in that, thought they may not state the case accurately, they direct our inquiry into the two main channels of Harris's literary work; that is, his contribution to early journalism in the South and his contribution to Southern, though none the less American, literature.

Dr. Wiggins's research confirms the assertion that Joel Chandler Harris was a journalist primarily (and something more), but refutes the idea that he was an accidental author even in the broad sense in which Harris uses the term. Dr. Wiggins draws his information from Harris's boyhood scrapbooks furnished by Mrs. Harris, from the files of the Countryman and the Atlanta Constitution, and from living people in Eatonton, Forsyth, Savannah, and Atlanta-people who knew Harris in his boyhood and young manhood prior to his

"An Accidental Author," Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, April, 1886 (Vol. XXXVII, p. 417).

"The Life of Joel Chandler Harris, by R. L. Wiggins. Publishing House Methodist Episcopal Church South, Nashville, Tenn., 1918.