Hamilton Wright Mabie recognizes "The Tempest'' as a play that fashioned itself largely in Shakespeare's imagination, and then significantly adds: "The profound seriousness of temper which pervades the play, the clearness with which its ethical bearings are disclosed, the deep philosophy which underlies it, carry an irresistible impression of something personal in the theme, and the treatment. It is impossible to read 'The Tempest' without a haunting sense of a secondary meaning." "When Shakespeare set the noble figure of Prospero on the unknown island, and made him master of spirits and of men, with a knowledge of life that was so great that it easily passed into magical art, he could not have been oblivious to the spir itual significance of the work, nor of its deep vital symbolism in the development of his own mind and art."

The most ancient religions taught that man was dominated by an infinite power to which he might appeal for aid. Out of these religions grew others as the human developed, which expanded the love element in the infinite and brought man in closer touch with this central force. Genius, subtle as it has been regarded, was viewed as suggesting, at least, the God within the human. In some mysterious way, it has been conceded, the genius appropriates from or approaches oneness with God. Although from pulpits it is and has been universally proclaimed that man should bind himself to God by prayer, and that his only hope for health, success and joy is in God's mercy and love, yet the clergy generally have been slow to recognize the genius as one who had called for and received within himself whatever of infinite power he could personally absorb. Often the genius was not a prayerful man, often decidedly unorthodox, and totally ignorant of the orthodox methods and ways of approaching God. Teaching as the clergymen do and did of the proofs that prayers were answered, they are yet hardly ready to declare with Emerson that "there is no screen or ceiling between our heads and the infinite heavens, so is there no bar or wall in the soul, where man, the effect, ceases, and God, the cause, begins."

The philosophy of the Hindus teaches them how to uncoil the wisdom which they claim is within the soul and bring it to conscious possession; the western student in what is termed advanced thought recognizes a universal force of which he is a part and studies how to appropriate from it what he would. As to results sought for and obtained, there is after all a harmony between the two systems. Whether the wisdom coveted is within the selfhood and disclosed by discipline, or contained within an omnipotent and omnipresent force which fuses itself into human consciousness because of faithful up reaching on the part of man, matters little. Possibly a greater unfoldment may discern that both these philosophies are true. A genius then may be defined as one who learns, either consciously or subconsciously, how to appropriate the wisdom within his own soul, or the wisdom from the Universal of which he is a part; or better still, to draw from either or both these sources, as he may need.

Shakespeare as a worker in the world, among the scholarly dramatic writers, must have felt a deep longing for wider culture, broader views of humanity, and deeper insight into the mysteries of life. This longing reached beyond the schools and beyond the libraries, and even pierced the deepest recesses of the human heart. In moments of silence, such longings, modern philosophy has proven, can attract from without or draw from within the knowledge sought. To some, the Universal seems to blend through sudden flashes of thought which perception grasps - to others, fairy spirits seemingly attend and carry the messages of power asked from infinite force.

"The Tempest" to me is Shakespeare's masterpiece, and here he laid bare his soul, and told the world his secret longings and the mystery of their fulfillment from the infinite source of supply. In an abstract way, Prospero reflects himself, his ideal self - the man who won by the aid of the infinite force of the universe which he commanded through its faithful couriers. Prospero had been wronged in a material sense, and through that wrong Prospero developed power by learning in the silence its source. Armed with that power, he dominated the material, harmonized all antagonism; and proved forgiveness to be the key-note in lifting one to clearly understand that the pulsating energy of the Source pervades all life and throbs only for the good and the upliftment of all. Prospero did not send his longings out to infinite force through vibrations. He, for his particular development, seemed to prefer to direct a familiar who though real to him could be unseen to others. A familiar or messenger who could awaken those who slept, and then observe them on waking, and be invisible. He was a part of the Universal, a breath of air, ever active, and as subtle and certain in accomplishment as the thought vibrations we now recognize which bind man to infinite knowledge and power.

When a great genius reveals himself to the world, he is wont to do so by symbols, or possibly I might better say by parallels. Those who should know can understand by following what he writes, and if none may grasp the meaning in his day, it still is well, for the time may not be ripe for the truth to be known. Through the ages the great ones have told of visions seen or promises made to them in dreams that gave them courage to work and dare; and yet the world may not have then been ready to be told of the close union between man and God. The story of Joan of Arc was younger in Shakespeare's time than to-day, and English divines recognized in it a species of hypocrisy and witchcraft. Shakespeare could hardly, therefore, speak more openly than he did, and yet he would tell his contemporaries of the real source of his success.

The play was called "The Tempest," and yet it was a tempest that did no harm. It was a necessary incident and perhaps a symbol to teach the lesson of growth. To the master the tempest had long been passed, but as he recalled the hell of suffering which he had endured, and later noted the rewards it had brought, he knew that through it was the path to a holier peace. Prospero's apparent sternness with Ariel only reflects the firm stand one must take who reaches for mastership. He draws on infinite force as he requires - not as a suppliant beggar, but as one who knows the mystic binding through the fatherhood of love.

Some of the critics have questioned if the Epilogue was Shakespeare's. It certainly lacks the general characteristics of Shakespeare's mature work; and the thoughts have been classed as commonplace, and the rhythm un-Shakespearian. Why should it not be, and yet this epilogue be written by Shakespeare and be his farewell to dramatic work? Do not the three first lines give us the key?

"Now my charms are all o'erthrown,

And what strength I have's mine own,

Which is most faint."

Following this line of reasoning, I conclude that Shakespeare linked himself to the Source through spirit guides whom he saw through clairvoyant vision, and with whom he conversed through the aid of clairaudient hearing. It was his method of appropriating from the center. His work done, their mission to him was ended, and his charms were all o'erthrown. Ariel was the messenger he may have first caught glimpses of, and later learned to command. Ariel to some might represent subtle vibrations; but to one with clairvoyance and clairaudience developed, he was a spirit in touch with the Infinite - from that force a subtle mighty power is ever reaching out to aid the development and upliftment of all who have learned man's true place in the great cosmos, and who not only feel but know the eternal Oneness of all life.

"We see but half the causes of our deeds,

Seeking them wholly in the outer life,

And heedless of the encircling spirit world,

Which, though unseen, is felt, and sows in us

All germs of pure and world-wide purposes."

- Lowell.

From the earliest revelations of man that have come down to us, writers have been bold in ascribing their talks and interviews with spirits, angels and God. They seem to distinguish between good and bad spirits and place the angels on a somewhat higher plane than that of the spirits. May it not be possible that these writers, with the unfoldment which had come to them, mistook, in their clairvoyant visions, exalted spirits that had progressed for angels - even for God?