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MACBETH RECONSIDERED; AN ESSAY.

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MACBETH RECONSIDERED; AN ESSAY: INTENDED AS AN ANSWER TO PART OF THE REMARKS ON SOME OF THE CHARACTERS OF SHAKSPEARE.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. AND J. EGERTON, WHITEHALL.

MDCCLXXXVI.

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TO EDMUND MALONE, THIS ESSAY IS INSCRIBED BY HIS OBEDIENT, AND OBLIGED SERVANT,

THE AUTHOR.

Advertiſement to the Reader.

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THE Paſſages printed in Italics are quotations from Mr. Wheatley's Remarks; and the references correſpond with the edition of Shakſpeare given by Johnſon and Stevens 1778.

MACBETH RECONSIDERED.

[3]

PLAYS are deſigned, by the joint powers of precept and example, to have a good influence on the lives of men. Enquiries into the conduct of fable in the drama were uſeleſs to this end: the regular, or irregular, diſpoſition of parts in a play is an artificial praiſe, or blame, that can contribute nothing to the improvement, or depravation, of the mind; for the cauſe of morality is promoted only, when, by a cataſtrophe reſulting from principles natural to the agents, who produce it, we are taught to love virtue, and abhorvice.

Neglect of unity is the obvious fault of Shakſpeare's pieces, truth of manners their unrivalled excellence.

[4]This Eſſay does not profeſs to obſerve upon any inconſiſtency in the conduct of the tragedy of Macbeth, it concerns itſelf only with the ſentiments of the hero of it, preſuming they will more effectually ſerve ethicks, if, in analyſing his character, it ſhews that there is no diſtinction between him and king Richard, in the quality of perſonal courage. If Macbeth be what Mr. Wheatley deſcribes him, we muſt forego our virtuous ſatisfaction in his repugnance to guilt, for it ariſes from mere cowardice; and can gain no inſtruction from his remorſe, for it is only the effect of imbecility; we deſpiſe him; we cannot feel for him; and ſhall never be amended by a wretch, who is uniformly the object of our contempt.

The writer of theſe pages does not conſider, that his poſition will never be eſtabliſhed, till Mr. Wheatley's be overthrown, without perceiving how difficult, and apparently invidious, a taſk he undertakes; he relies, however, upon Shakſpeare to clear Macbeth from the imputation laid on his nature; and can truly ſay, the argument is not taken up in a ſpirit of controverſy, but out of a love for, what is believed to be, juſt criticiſm.

[5]Having given many judicious proofs of the difference, there certainly is, in the characters of Macbeth and Richard, Mr. Wheatley proceeds to the article of courage, and ſays, In Richard it is intrepidity, and in Macbeth no more than reſolution: in him [Macbeth] it proceeds from exertion, not from nature; in enterprize he betrays a degree of fear, though he is able, when occaſion requires, to ſtifle and ſubdue it.

The attempt to controvert this doctrine naturally reſolves itſelf into three heads; namely, a repetition of the ſimple character of Macbeth, as it ſtands before any change is effected in it by the ſupernatural ſoliciting of the weird ſiſters; a conſideration of his conduct towards Banquo, and Macduff; and a review of his deportment, as oppoſed to Richard's in the "Remarks." This order will involve an inquiry into Mr. Wheatley's interpretation of the poet's text; into the appoſiteneſs of the facts adduced in ſupport of hi opinion; and into his philoſophy of the pec [...]liar paſſion of characters, when, facts not ſupplying teſtimony, he can ſubſtantiate his hypotheſis only on the evidence of appropriated ſentiment.

An appeal for judgement on the nature of Macbeth's courage lies to the tribunal of [6] Shakſpeare himſelf. The circumſcribed nature of a drama renders it generally impracticable for the principal perſonages in it gradually to unfold themſelves; it is, therefore, an allowed artifice with dramatic authors (and of which they commonly avail themſelves) by an impreſſive deſcription of their heroes to bring us, in a great meaſure, acquainted with them, before they are actually engaged in ſcenes, where, for want of ſuch previous intelligence, their proceedings might appear, at beſt, confuſed, and generally, perhaps, inexplicable. We are bound, then, to receive the introductory portrait our author has drawn of Macbeth as a true reſemblance; for a creature of the poet's arbitrary creation may be aſſimilated only to thoſe features, which he has thought fit to give him. Here is the picture.

—The mercileſs Macdonel
—from the weſtern iſles
Of kernes and gallow-glaſſes is ſupply'd;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel ſmiling,
Shew'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deſerves that name)
Diſdaining fortune, with his brandiſh'd ſteel,
Which ſmoak'd with bloody execution,
[7]Like valour's minion, carved out his paſſage,
'Till he fac'd the ſlave:
And ne'er ſhook hands, nor bade farewel to him,
'Till he unſeam'd him from the nave to the chops.
(P. 446. v. 4.)

Could Shakſpeare call a man brave, and inſiſt upon his well deſerving that appellation; could he grace a man with the title of valour's minion, and deem him, as he does in a ſubſequent paſſage, worthy to be matched even with the goddeſs of war;—could he do this, and not deſign to impreſs a full idea of the dignity of his courage? Macbeth's great heart pants to meet the mercileſs leader of the rebels; his executing ſword, all dyed in reeking gore, hews out a paſſage to him; he maintains the combat, 'till the death of his antagoniſt crowns his perſiſtive valour with the victory he burned for.

It is ſaid, Macbeth has reſolution, not intrepidity. What is the ſoldier's intrepidity, but diſdaining fortune?

It is objected, though with ſome qualification, that Macbeth's courage proceeds from exertion, not from nature; and that in enterprize he betrays a deal of fear. Let us turn to the portrait once more.

[8]
Cap.
No ſooner juſtice had, with valour arm'd,
Compell'd theſe ſkipping kernes to truſt their heels;
But the Norweyan lord, ſurveying vantage,
With furbiſh'd arms, and new ſupplies of men,
Began a freſh aſſault.
King.
Diſmay'd not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Cap.
Yes;
As ſparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
(P. 449. v. 4.)

The Thane of Roſſe takes up the narrative;—

Norway himſelf, with terrible numbers,
—began a diſmal conflict;
'Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapt in proof,
Confronted him with ſelf-compariſons,
Point againſt point rebellious, arm 'gainſt arm,
Curbing his laviſh ſpirit: and to conclude,
The victory fell on us.—
P. 452. v. 4.

Is it to betray fear in enterprize, already worn with the fatigues of a hard-fought field, to ruſh, at diſadvantage, on freſh ſupplies and terrible numbers, unconcerned as eagles, when they ſwoop on ſparrows, and lions, when they ſtrike a hare? It cannot be the laboured effect of exertion, it is the ſpontaneous impulſe of a dauntleſs nature, that again hurries Bellona's bridegroom, through all the horrors of a diſmal conflict, to ſingle out and hold the royal invader point againſt point, till his reſiſtleſs [9] arm has curbed his laviſh ſpirit, and raiſed on his diſcomfiture the trophies of a ſecond conqueſt.

Macbeth now enters in the ſcene, and a deputation from the ſovereign meets him, with theſe gracious acknowledgements to his triumphant valour.

The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
The news of thy ſucceſs: and when he reads
Thy perſonal venture in the rebel's [...]ight,
His wonder and his praiſes do contend,
Which ſhould be thine, or his: ſilenc'd with that
In viewing o'er the reſt o' the ſelf-ſame day,
He finds thee in the ſtout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of what thyſelf didſt make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
Came poſt with poſt; and every one did bear
Thy praiſes in his kingdom's great defence
—For an earneſt of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor.
(P. 464. v. 4.)

The king congratulates Macbeth on his ſucceſs; and profeſſes, that the praiſe, due to his perſonal venture in the firſt battle, is loſt in ſilent wonder at the ſublimity of his daring. How inexpreſſible, then, are Duncan's feelings, when he finds him once more engaged, the ſelf-ſame day, in the ſtout [10] Norweyan ranks, careleſs of meeting that death, which he was ſo terribly dealing on the ſquadrons that ſurrounded him! The king confers the forfeited honours of the diſloyal Cawdor upon his general, only as a token of thoſe higher dignities, which all conſpire to think his atchievements in the kingdom's great defence have juſtly merited.

Such is the character Shakſpeare attributes to Macbeth, while yet the pureneſs of his conſcience is uncontaminated by guilt. The impetuoſity of Glamis is the deciſion of intrepidity; the feats of his own hand aſſure to him the renown of gallantry; and the whole tenour of his conduct, throughout this perilous adventure, unequivocally diſplays a ſoul, that, with Othello's, may

—agnize
A natural and prompt alacrity
It finds in hardneſs.—
(P. 465. v. 10.)

We come now to the ſecond part of this queſtion. The "Remarks" affirm, that Macbeth is perſonally afraid of Banquo, and that his fear is founded on the ſuperior courage of the other.

The evidence, which is given in, of Banquo's ſuperior courage may, perhaps, on examination, [11] ſeem but of little weight. Whence are the proofs of Macbeth's cowardice to be brought? Not from his behaviour in battle. It does not appear, that, upon the firſt meeting of the witches, Macbeth is agitated much more than Banquo; Banquo's deſcription of their figures, and his ſeveral pertinent queſtions to them (amounting, though, to no more than two) are not expreſſive of mere curioſity, but of the ſurpriſe, with which himſelf and his partner are equally affected, on their unexpectedly encountering three objects of ſo groteſque an appearance,

— What are theſe,
So wither'd, and ſo wild in their attire;
That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
And yet are on't?—Live you? or are you ought
That man may queſtion?—
(P. 406. v. 4.)

If Macbeth only repeats the ſame inquiry, it is not from timidity, but from a wiſh for the ſame information; and when he does it ſhortly, he indicates his impatience for an anſwer.

Why ſhould the ſpeeches of Macbeth and Banquo, in this ſcene, appear to be injudiciouſly diſtributed? And how will the difference in their characters account for ſuch a diſtribution? Banquo addreſſes the witches firſt: Banquo is [12] made to ſee them firſt; not in token of ſuperiority, but merely, perhaps, that their ceremonious ſilence to him,

— each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her ſkinny lips,—
(P. 406. v. 4.)

may heighten the ſolemnity of the prophetic greeting, with which they are about to hail Macbeth. Yet, the diſtribution of the parts is of ſo little moment, that it might have happened fortuitouſly: to have done, however, with conjecture, the context evinces, that it is not produced for the purpoſe of ſhewing Banquo's ſuperiority, in being perfectly calm under an occurrence, that has ruffled Macbeth.

If Macbeth is amazed, when he ſees the witches are vaniſhed, and likens their diſappearance to the melting of breath into the wind; Banquo is ſtruck too, and compares them, in their ſudden evaneſcence, to the burſting bubbles of the water.—(P. 464. v.4.)

Banquo cannot be ſaid to treat the witches with contempt; he adjures them,— ‘I' the name of truth;— (P. 462. v. 4.) and, with Macbeth, gives them, in ſome ſort, credit for

More than mortal knowledge.
[13]If you can look into the ſeeds of time,
And ſay, which grain will grow, and which will not;
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.—
(P. 462. v. 4.)

This is the language of manly firmneſs, not of contempt. He does not mean to ridicule their prophecy by anſwering to Macbeth's queſtion,

Went it not ſo?
To the ſelf-ſame tune, and words.—
(P. 464. v.4.)

This is a grave, and preciſe, reply to a particular, and intereſting, demand. It has been obſerved, from the higheſt critical authority, that Malcolm confirms the ſerious import of the ſpeech in queſtion, when he calls the effuſions of Macduff's grief and rage a manly "tune."—P. 586. v. 4.) It is plain, that Banquo's exclamation—, ‘What, can the devil ſpeak true?— (P. 465. v. 4.) on hearing part of the prophecy fulfilled, is dictated by wonder, not diſregard; for, when Macbeth takes occaſion, from that very event, to queſtion him on the hope, he now might [14]reaſonably entertain, of his family's advancement, he ſolemnly replies,

— 'Tis ſtrange;
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The inſtruments of darkneſs tell us truths;
Win us with honeſt trifles, to betray us
In deepeſt conſequence.—
(P. 466. v. 4.)

Now let us advert to the ſubſequent effect, which the declarations of the ſiſters have upon Banquo's mind: he prays to be delivered from their temptations;

—Merciful powers!
Reſtrain in me the curſed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repoſe!—
(P.492. v. 4.)

Mr. Stevens, to whom every admirer of Shakſpeare muſt feel himſelf under high obligations, obſerves upon this paſſage, ‘it is apparent from what Banquo ſays afterwards’—[to Macbeth, "I dreamt laſt night of the three weird ſiſters,"]—‘that he had been ſolicited in a dream to attempt ſomething, in conſequence of the prophecy of the witches, that his waking ſenſes were ſhock'd at.’—(P. 492. v. 4.) —Theſe horrible emotions could never have been [15] cauſed in him by declarations, which he had contemned, ridiculed, or diſregarded. The adventure on the heath, therefore, does not prove Banquo's ſpirit greater than Macbeth's.

The "Remarks" proceed thus, in proof of Macbeth's perſonal fear of Banquo; his principal object is the death of the father; and the ſecuring of his crown againſt Banquo's iſſue, who alone were pointed out to his jealouſy by the witches, is no more than a ſecondary conſideration.

Macbeth, when he confeſſes to Lady Macbeth, that his mind is full of ſcorpions, ſhews Banquo not to be the ſole cauſe of his uneaſineſs, by adding, "Thou know'ſt, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives:" Moreover; directing the aſſaſſins, he tells them, the ſon's abſence is "no leſs material" to him, than the father's; he urges the death of Fleance on a motive diſtinct from cowardice; for, allowing, one moment, that he perſonally fear'd Banquo, it is impoſſible to conceive he could have felt the ſame dread of a boy: again; had his fears been perſonal they muſt have ended with the removal of the object of them; but finding the ſon has not fallen with the father, he is again involv'd in all his former apprehenſions.

[16]
Fleance is 'ſcap'd.
Then comes my fit again.—
(P. 538. v. 4.)

The witches, it is true, only point out Banquo's iſſue to Macbeth's jealouſy; but acual is not poſſible progeny, and the loſs of one child does not prevent a man from begetting others: thus, the ſecuring of his crown againſt Banquo's iſſue is ſo far from being a ſecondary, that it is the tyrant's only, inſtigation to this double murder.

The original idea of Macbeth's perſonally fearing Banquo ſeems founded on theſe words;

— our fears in Banquo
Stick deep;—

and,

— There is none, but he,
Whoſe being I do fear,—
(P. 522. v, 4.)

It will be eſſentially neceſſary, towards explaining the ſenſe of theſe ſtrong lines, to follow the train of reaſoning through the context of the ſpeech, from which they are taken.

To be thus, is nothing;
But to be ſafely thus:—Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that, which would be fear'd: 'Tis much he dares;
[17]And, to that dauntleſs temper of his mind,
He hath a wiſdom, that doth guide his valour
To act in ſafety. There is none, but he,
Whoſe being I do fear: and, under him,
My genius is rebuk'd; as, it is ſaid,
Mark Anthony's was by Caeſar. He chid the ſiſters,
When firſt they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them ſpeak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitleſs crown,
And put a barren ſceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No ſon of mine ſucceeding. If it be ſo,
For Banquo's iſſue have I fil'd my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
Put rancours in the veſſel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the ſeed of Banquo kings!
Rather than ſo, come, fate, into the liſt,
And champion me to the utterance!—
(ibid.)

In this ſoliloquy the uſurper reflects, that, after all he has done to obtain the crown, he is in great danger of loſing it; weighs the cauſes of that danger; and reſolves, by removing them, to take effectual meaſures for the firmly eſtabliſhing of his ſupremacy. In other words;—

I have poſſeſs'd myſelf of the ſovereignty; but to what avail, when, in a moment, it [18] may be wreſted from me? Banquo's eye is fix'd upon it; and there reigns in his very nature a royalty, that ſeems to realize his expectations: he is not only a ſoldier of uncommon bravery, but ſo conſummate a politician, that, ſhould he revolt againſt my government, he would infallibly carry his deſigns ſucceſsfully into execution. He is the only man alive, whoſe attempts I dread: and he holds as high an aſcendant over my good genius, as, it is ſaid, Caeſar did over Mark Antony's. His hopes are not only ſtrengthen'd by his natural endowments, but embolden'd too by the aſſurances of prophecy: hearing me ſaluted king by the ſiſters, he bade them ſpeak to him; they obey'd; and hail'd him father to a line of kings; they plac'd a crown upon my head, and put a ſceptre in my hand, not to be tranſmitted to my own, but to be wrench'd away by the unlineal inheritance of his, children. If ſo, I ſhall have perpetrated ſuch crimes, as muſt embitter every moment of my life in this world, and forbid every hope of happineſs in the world to come, only to make the ſeed of Banquo kings! It muſt not be—I here oppoſe myſelf to the prediction, and reſolve by extirpating his family, to elude the decrees of fate itſelf.

[19]The uſurper, then, does not plunge into freſh crimes to get rid of perſonal fear—ambition impels him to the murder of Duncan; and the ſame ambition urges him on the deſtruction of Banquo and Fleance, who ſeem deſtin'd to degrade him and his houſe from the ſplendors of monarchy to the obſcurity of vaſſalage.

The "Remarks" find additional proofs of Macbeth's cowardice in his conduct towards Macduff—"The ſame motives of perſonal fear, and thoſe unmix'd with any other, impel him to ſeek the deſtruction of Macduff."

Macbeth is not wrought by perſonal fear, to deſtroy Macduff, but by the knowledge of his diſaffection,

How ſay'ſt thou, that Macduff denies his perſon,
At our great bidding?—
(P. 546. v. 4.)

The diſcontented Thane of Fife is a man, whoſe parts and popularity are not to be deſpis'd; he is deſcribed, ‘—Noble, wiſe, judicious,— (P. 567. v. 4.) And Roſſe, ſpeaking of the misfortune that had befallen him in the loſs of his wife and children, ſays,

[20]
No mind, that's honeſt,
But in it ſhares ſome woe.—
(P. 584. v. 4.)

If Macbeth thanks the apparition, that had "harped his fears aright,"—it is becauſe, its caution juſtifying his ſuſpicions, he ſhall now provide more ſtrenuouſly againſt the machinations of his enemy.

If, when told that,

—none of women born
Shall harm him,—

he ſays, ‘Then live, Macduff;—’ yet, repreſſing the feelings of confidence, inſtantly adds,

—Thou ſhalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies;—

the quality of that fear is decided, when (being aſſur'd, that he

—ſhall never vanquiſh'd be, until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunſinane hill
Shall come againſt him,—)

he exclaims,

—Our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the leaſe of nature.—
(P. 562. v. 4.)

[21]When the Thane of Fife encounters Macbeth in battle, the tyrant does not uſe the power upon his life, which he believes himſelf poſſeſs'd of, as inſtantly he would, had he fear'd him; but, yielding to compunction for the inhuman wrongs he had done him, wiſhes to avoid the neceſſity of adding Macduff's blood to that, already ſpilt in the ſlaughter of his deareſt connections.

—Get thee back, my ſoul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.
Macd.
I have no words,
My voice is in my ſword; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!—(Fight.)
Mach.
Thou loſeſt labour:
As eaſy may'ſt thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen ſword impreſs, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable creſts;
I bear a charmed life, which muſt not yield
To one of woman born.—
(P. 606. v. 4.)

Unmov'd by Macduff's taunts and furious attack, Macbeth adviſes him to employ his valour where ſucceſs may follow it, and generouſly warns him againſt perſiſting to urge an unequal combat with one, whom deſtiny had, pronounced invincible.—

The "Remarks" would now condemn Macbeth from his own confeſſion of the truth [22] of the accuſations brought againſt him—

That apprehenſion was his reaſon for theſe murthers, he intimates himſelf; when meditating on that of Banquo, he obſerves, that, ‘Things bad begun make ſtrong themſelves by ill.— (P. 535. a. 3. ſ. 2.) And when that of Macduff is in contemplation, he ſays,
—I am in blood
Stept in ſo far, that, ſhou'd I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.—
(P. 546. v. 4.)

The comment on theſe paſſages, which Cibber puts into the mouth of king Richard, is remarkable, and juſtly explains their meaning.

‘Crowns got with blood muſt be with blood maintain'd. (Act 3.) and,

When I look back, 'tis terrible retreating;
I cannot bear the thought, nor dare repent.—
(Act 5.)

In a word, Macbeth does not meditate the deaths of Banquo and Macduff through perſonal fear of them; but becauſe his ambition renders the former obnoxious to his envy, and the latter to his hatred.

[23]It muſt now be ſhewn, that the proofs of Richard's ſuperior courage are not concluſive againſt Macbeth. Equal firmneſs in equal trials will invalidate ſome of them; ſome are to be refuted by ſhewing that what is objected to Macbeth as timidity will as ſtrongly affect Richard himſelf; and ſome may, perhaps, be founded on miſappreheaſion of fact, or ſentiment.

If it is a mark of reſolution in Richard that, when Tyrrel informs him the princes are diſpatched,

though certain of the event, he is ſolicitous to hear at leiſure in what manner it was conducted
Come to me, Tyrrel, ſoon at after ſupper,
When thou ſhalt tell the proceſs of their death;—
(P. 115. v. 7.)

Macbeth muſt be allowed to diſplay preciſely the ſame quality, when he ſays to the murderer, who has related to him the proceſs of Banquo's death,

—Get thee gone; to-morrow
We'll hear, ourſelves again.
(P. 558. v. 4)

The "Remarks" proceed—Macbeth's ſuſpicions extend to all his great lords—’

There is not a one of them, but in his houſe
I keep a ſervant fee'd;—
(p. 546. v. 4.)

[24] and, "he tells the phyſician,"‘The Thanes fly from me.— (P. 596. v. 4.) Does not Richard betray as much ſuſpicion when he dares not truſt Stanley, till he has taken the young lord Strange as a ſurety for his fidelity?—and is he not as anxious from a mere doubt of his followers, as Macbeth is on finding himſelf really deſerted?

K. Rich.
O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream!—
What think'ſt thou?—Will our friends prove all true?—
Rat.
No doubt, my Lord.
K. Rich.
I fear, I fear.
—Come, go with me Under our tents; I'll play the eaves-dropper,
To hear, if any mean to ſhrink from me.
(P. 156. v. 7.)

Mr. W. ſays, His going round the camp, juſt before the battle, to liſten if any meant to ſhrink from him, is proper on that particular occaſion—Agreed—But why think the ſame action proper conduct in Richard, and cowardice in. Macbeth?—

[25] The "Remarks," bent upon exalting Richard at Macbeth's expence, ſay, ‘The ſame determined ſpirit carries him through the bloody buſineſs of murdering his nephews: and when Buckingham ſhews a reluctance to be concern'd in it, he immediately looks out for another—Had Macbeth been thus diſappointed in the perſon to whom he had open'd himſelf, it would have diſconcerted any deſign he had form'd.’

It appears, however, that the perſons Macbeth open'd himſelf to, were not wrought to his purpoſe on their firſt interview; yet it does not diſconcert his deſigns; he ſends for them again, repeats his former converſation, and prevails with them by ſtrong arguments, and large promiſes, to undertake a murder, the execution whereof he ſteadily perſiſts in. P. 325. v. 4.

Again, ‘All the crimes Richard commits are for his advancement, not for his ſecurity.’

Richard removes Clarence and Haſtings, as Macbeth does Duncan, for his advancement; but he murders his nephews and his wife, as Macbeth does Banquo, to ſecure himſelf in that advancement.

[26] Why ſhould it be ſuppoſed Macbeth ‘catches the terrors he ſees expreſs'd in the countenance of the meſſenger, who informs him of numbers of the enemy?’

Ser.
There is ten thouſand—
Mach.
Geeſe, villain?
Ser.
Soldiers, Sir.
Mach.
Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What ſoldiers, Patch?
Death of thy ſoul! thoſe linen cheeks of thine
Are counſellors to fear.—
(P. 593. v.4.)—

From the contemptuous manner in which he treats the intelligence, he ſeems rather to imagine what effect ſuch looks might have upon the garriſon, than to acknowledge any they have produc'd upon himſelf—What is Richard's compoſure in a ſimilar ſituation? The information he receives of inſurrections in Devonſhire and Kent being followed by news of Buckingham's army, ſtriking the meſſenger, he exclaims,

Out on ye owls!—nothing but ſongs of death?
There, take thou that.—
(P. 137. v.7.)

Macbeth's courage is impeach'd, becauſe ‘he calls for his armour, notwithſtanding Seyton's remonſtrance, that ‘It is not needed yet—’ [27]perſiſts in putting it on; calls for it again eagerly afterwards; bids. the perſon who is aſſiſting him Diſpatch—’ then, the moment it is on, pulls it off again, and directs his attendants to, ‘Bring it after.—(P. 597. v. 4.)

Is there more confuſion and inconſiſtency in this, than in the following, ſcene?

Rat.
Moſt mighty ſovereign, on the weſtern coaſt
Rideth a puiſſant navy; to the ſhore
Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
Unarm'd and unreſolv'd, to beat them back:
'Tis thought, that Richmond is their admiral;
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham to welcome them aſhore.
K. Rich.
Some light-foot friend poſt to the duke of Norfolk;—
Ratcliff, thyſelf, —or Cateſby;—where is he?
Cates.
Here, my good lord.
K. Rich.
Cateſby, fly to the duke—
Cates.
I will, my lord, with all convenient haſte.
K. Rich.
Ratcliffe, come hither: poſt to Saliſbury;
When thou comeſt thither—Dull, unmindful villain,
(To Cateſby.)
Why ſtay'ſt thou here, and go'ſt not to the duke?
Cates.
[28]
Firſt, mighty liege, tell me your highneſs' pleaſure,
What from your grace I ſhall deliver to him.
K. Rich.
O, true, good Cateſby;—Bid him levy ſtraight
The greateſt ſtrength and power he can make,
And meet me ſuddenly at Saliſbury.
Cates.
I go.
Rat.
What, may it pleaſe you, ſhall I do at Saliſbury?
K. Rich.
Why, what would'ſt thou do there before I go?
Rat.
Your highneſs told me, I ſhou'd poſt before.
K. Rich.
My mind is chang'd.—
'
(P. 134. v. 7.)

Arguing principally from the recited inſtances of it, the "Remarks" ſay, ‘Theſe are all ſymptoms of timidity, which he confeſſes to have been natural to him, when he owns that’ ‘The time has been my ſenſes wou'd have cool'd To hear a night-ſhriek, and my fell of hair Wou'd at a diſmal treatiſe rouſe and ſtir, As life were in't.—I have ſupt full of horrors; Direneſs, familiar to my ſlaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once ſtart me.—(P. 599. v. 4.)

Here Mr. W. refutes his own poſition; for, if his interpretation of theſe lines be admitted, he muſt allow that Macbeth, whatever his former feelings were, has no timidity [29] in his diſpoſition now. But the paſſage refers neither to fear or courage—it is a pathetic reflection on the dreadful change produced in his humane habits, during a ſeventeen years uſurpation, the records whereof are crouded with practices ſo oppreſſive and bloody, as have hardened his once eaſily yielding temper againſt all impreſſions of ſenſibility, and the charities of nature.

P. 76. When Richard "aſks" ‘My lord of Surry, why look you ſo ſad?— (P. 144. v. 7.) and afterwards "enquires," ‘Saw'ſt thou the melancholy lord Northumberland? (P. 147. v. 7.) he is not ‘ſatisfied upon being told, that he and Surry were buſied in’ ‘Chearing up the foldiers.—’ He would, indeed, fain perſuade himſelf to be ſatisfied; but, in reality, he is far from being at eaſe.

I am ſatisfied—Give me a bowl of wine:
I have not the alacrity of ſpirit,
Nor cheer of mind, that I was won't to have.—
(P. 148. v. 7.)

[30] The nature of Richard's queſtion on Surry's ſadneſs, and obſervation of Northumberland's melancholy, may be exemplify'd from Mr. W's judicious reflection on Macbeth's interrogatories to the phyſician— ‘Canſt thou not miniſter to a mind diſeas'd; Pluck from the memory, &c. &c.—(P. 596. v. 4.) ‘Though it is the diſorder of Lady Macbeth that gives occaſion to theſe queſtions, yet,— in his own mind, he is all the while making application to himſelf. Richard repreſents the enemy as a troop of banditti; A ſort of vagabonds, raſcals, and run-aways, A ſcum of Brittains, and baſe lackey peaſants, &c. (P. 165. v. 7.)

This harangue to his army ſhou'd not have been quoted as an inſtance of Richard's intrepidity; for it does not contain his real ſentiments of Richmond's friends: the inferiority of the foe is a topic which generals, to encourage their own troops, have commonly affected; and Richard never cou'd have ſeriouſly held in contempt ſuch enemies as

Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned ſoldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, and Sir William Stanley;
[31]Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
And many others of great name and worth.—
(P. 139. v. 7.)

When lady Macbeth, finding her huſband will proceed no further in the bloody buſineſs of his ſovereign's death, reproaches him thus;

—Would'ſt thou have that,
Which thou eſteem'ſt the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own eſteem;
Letting I dare not wait upon I would—?—
(P. 488. v. 4.)

his reply, ‘I dare do all that may become a man—’ is ſo far being an aſſertion of mere manlineſs of character, in Mr. W's ſenſe, that it ſublimely expreſſes an entire contempt of danger, and reverence for virtue.

To compare Macbeth and Richard under the influence of viſions—Macbeth addreſſes Banquo thus, ‘Why, what care I? If thou can'ſt nod, ſpeak too. If charnel-houſes, and our graves, muſt ſend Thoſe that we bury, back; our monuments Shall be the maws of kites.—(P. 541. v. 6.)

[32]Again

What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Ruſſian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tyger,
Take any ſhape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the deſert with thy ſword;
If trembling I inhabit, then proteſt me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible ſhadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!—
(P. 543. v. 4.)

Notwithſtanding the firmneſs of this defiance, it cannot be ſuppos'd but Macbeth is as much terrify'd while he utters it, as Richard is, when, ſtarting out of a dream in which the ſouls of thoſe he had murder'd had appear'd to him, he cries,

Have mercy, Jeſu!—ſoft; I did but dream.—
O coward conſcience, how doſt thou afflict me!
The lights burn blue.—Is it not dead midnight?
Cold fearful drops ſtand on my trembling fleſh, &c.
(P. 154. v. 7.)

Superſtition may be a ſign of timidity— Macbeth's ſuperſtition is founded on the ſtrong aſſurances of preternatural agents, whoſe firſt promiſes to him had been made good—Richard condeſcends to be affected by omens,

Richmond!—when I was laſt at Exeter,
The mayor in courtſy ſhew'd me the caſtle,
[33]And call'd it Rouge-m [...]nt: at which name I ſtarted;
Becauſe a bard of Ireland told me once,
I ſhou'd not live long after I ſaw Richmond.—
(P. 112. v. 7.)

Again;

The ſun will not be ſeen to-day;
The ſky doth frown and lour upon our army.
I wou'd theſe dewy tears were from the ground!—
(P. 159. v. 7.)

It will be ſaid, and it will be granted, that Richard preſently ſtifles theſe emotions: it is only aſſerted that he feels them, like Macbeth; and that Macbeth, like him, can overcome them.—The wood of Birnam moves towards Dunſinane—The tyrant ‘Doubts the equivocation of the fiend.—’ and, believing the laws of nature invented to his ruin, ‘Pulls in reſolution.—’ Inſtantly, however, he ſhakes off this momentary diſmay,

—Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At leaſt we'll die with our harneſs on our back.—
(P. 604. v. 4.)

He ruſhes upon the enemy—encounters Macduff —The ſiſters have palter'd with him; he has done with belief in the juggling fiends, and can rely upon himſelf—

[34]
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunfinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try thy laſt: before my body
I throw my warlike ſhield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that firſt cries, hold, enough.

(P. 608. v. 4.)

This conduct in Macbeth is ſtigmatized with the name of deſpair.—It certainly is of the ſame nature with Richard's determination:

—I have ſet my life upon a caſt,
And I will ſtand the hazard of the die.—
(P. 164. v. 7.)

The reſolution of both tyrants in the battles, that decided their fate, is that mix'd effuſion of grief, ſhame, and pride, which cannot be denominated leſs than the deſpair of innate bravery.

If Macbeth's behaviour is to be called cowardly, when, overpowered by the completion of the prophecies, he, for a moment, declines the combat with Macduff; ſo muſt Richard's, when he flies with Haſtings before Warwick and Somerſet, leaving Edward to the mercy of the Lancaſtrians.—P. 52 [...]. v. 6.

From the review of the characters of the uſurpers, it appears not to be true of Richard, that ‘upon no occaſion, however tremendous, end at no moment of his life, however unguarded, [35] does he betray the leaſt ſymptom of fear;’or of Macbeth, that he ‘is always ſhaken upon great, and frequently upon trivial occaſions.’

Macbeth and Richard are each of them as intrepid as man can be: yet, it may be ſaid of each, without any derogation from that character, that he is, at times, agitated with apprehenſions. The Earl of Peterborough has left it upon record, that intrepidity and ſenſe of danger are by no means incompatible.

Having endeavour'd to prove, that Macbeth has a juſt right to the reputation of intrepidity; that he feels no perſonal dread of Banquo and Macduff; and that he meets equal, not to ſay ſuperior, trials, as boldly as Richard; it may be expected this eſſay ſhould attempt to ſhew in what the eſſential difference between theſe great bad men conſiſts.

Ambition is the impulſe that governs every action of Richard's life; he attains the crown by diſſimulation, that owns no reſpect for virtue; and by cruelty, which entails no remorſe on the va [...]our, that wou'd maintain his ill-acquir'd dignity. Ambition is the predominant vice of Macbeth's nature; but he gratifies it by hypocriſy, that reveres virtue too highly to be perfectly itſelf; and by murders, [36] the recollection whereof, at times, renders his valour, uſeleſs by depriving him of all fenſe, but that of his enormous wickedneſs. Richard's character is ſimple, Macbeth's mix'd. Richard is only intrepid, Macbeth intrepid, and feeling. Richard's mind not being diverted by reflection from the exigencies of his ſituation, he is always at full leiſure to diſplay his valour; Macbeth, diſtracted by remorſe, loſes all apprehenſion of danger in the contemplation of his guilt; and never recurs to his valour for ſupport, till the enemy's approach rouzes his whole ſoul, and conſcience is repell'd by the neceſſity for exertion.

The writer of the above pages cannot conclude without ſaying, he read the ‘Remarks on ſome of Shakſpeare's Characters’ with ſo much general pleaſure and conviction, that he wiſhes his approbation were conſiderable enough to increaſe the celebrity which Mr. Wheatley's memory has acquir'd from a work, ſo uſefully intended, and ſo elegantly perform'd.

FINIS.
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