310 Strictures on the Character of Macbeth. The whole however together is a cu- MR. EDITOR, ARCHY MAC-SCRIBBLE. IT has been remarked in all ages, that those who are eminent for wit, or renowned for judgment, have been occasionally subject to that common casualty-Dulness, which is imprinted on the face of humanity as a strong emblem of its fallibility. Of all the poets, ancient or modern,perhaps the opposite extremes of sublimity and dulness have not been more powerfully exemplified than in the productions of Shakspeare. He had, of all moderns, the highest genius, and made greater use of his materials than any other author whose acquisitions doubled his own. As it was said of Dryden, that any subject grew poetical under his hand; so it may be remarked of Shakspeare, in a much more eminent degree. Under the government of his powerful intellect, common subjects became elegant, ordinary topics fruitful, and great ones sublime; whether his fables were taken from the readings of Cynthio, the miserable doggrel of early writers, or transplanted from the narrative of historical facts, he was equally noble in his thoughts, felicitous in his sentiments, rich in his colouring, and striking in his characters; under his contropling genius, possibilities became probabilities, and probabilities facts; so happy was his logic, so commanding was his elocution. If, in exa1aining the character of Macbeth, an instance is required to illustrate these observations, we are not bound to abide by this conclusion; to me, it appears, that the character of Macbeth is, in point of greatness, of a subordinate description: he is an agent, rather than a principal; he acts from habit, that which had otherwise been dispensed to him by nature; originally of a noble diposition, corrupt example ultimately under [May 1, mined the citadel of virtue, and left the fortress a prey to ruinous ambition, and uncontroulable passion; irresolution was his greatest fault, and bravery his greatest virtue. Perhaps these qualities can hardly be supposed to subsist together, without some explanation of their boun daries. Macbeth's character being originally virtuous, it required some strong attraction to bias its leaning from its genuine purity. Ambition flamed in his front, and presented with one hand a dagger, in the other a crown. Conscience, that inward monitor, whose voice will be heard, even in the hurricane of the passions, or in the dead insensibility of habitual turpitude, perpetually in vited him to reason and to peace, and produced irresolution, the strongest fea this struggle between vice and virtue play be strictly examined, an objection ture in this hero's character. If this may be taken to the characters of of intelligence appropriated to their the witches, who have a larger share tion has ventured to allot to themnature, than any other writer of ficthe gift of prescience; the sole possessor of this property is Ile, before whom all nature dwindles into insignificance; that the witches should know that Macbeth poses, is to conjecture improbable, and was a proper object to fulfil their pur As Adam was to Eve, so Macbeth was more than poctical to illustrate by fact, ambition of possessing more than nature to his wife-each fell for the wretched intended to bestow; the evil contagion of bad advice is traced through this cha racter to the deepest shade of meditated villany; never strongly urged against complicated crime, and never was resolution so de argument more feated by reasoning so shallow and sq horrible. Lady Macbeth advises ber husband to undertake murder, at the suggestion of the devil, and to the ine vitable ruin of his and her soul's peace; breaking through the sacred rites of hospitality, sinning against gratitude, and "in one fell swoop," staking every exalted principle against the possession of a bauble, that was ultimately to make their lives unhappy, and their death mi serable. So irrecoverably sunk is this once admired warrior, that the common consolation attending all sinners, genuine repentance, seems quite lost to him; furious and infatuated, his mind imbibes a principle, that it is better to go on in blood than to step out to avoid it; thus we behold him murdering his friend Banquo, Macduff's wife and children, was 1815.] Question relative to the Comparative Degree. and driving from his presence every trace of humanity but the name. Ilis character becomes terrible; suspicion attends his waking moments, and guilt becomes the companion of his sleep; every reader exults in his miscarriage, every auditor rejoices in his fall. If the sentiments of this play be seriously examined, they must be found to possess a powerful influence over the mind. Shakspeare may be supposed not barely to have endured the character of a warrior, but to have absolutely loathed it. So horrible a monster as Lady Macbeth is not to be met with in any production, either in savage or in civilized life; and it is probably a consolation, that it is found only in poetry, and not in real life. A character like this never exist ed; it has no counterpart. It is mournful and distressing to contemplate that heroic fortitude, amiable courage, and exalted qualities, are all liable to be destroyed by the pernicious influence of cvil counsel and ridiculous ambition. Lady Macbeth tells us, that her husband's heart was "full of the milk of human kindness;" he himself informs us that his nature was disposed to tenderness and to sympathy.. It is wonderful that these amiable propensities should so suddenly disappear, and leave no trace to discover where they existed; the plea is magnificent; it excites that leading character of the drama, terror, in all its stern impressions, yet pity is perhaps not called forth so often as might be desirable. MR. EDITOR, L. A FEW evenings since being in company with an intimate friend, after a variety of subjects had been discussed, the merits of actors became the topic of conversation. Our opinions differed widely; and perceiving my friend, who is of a hasty disposition, grow somewhat more warm than the subject seemed to deserve, I was anxious to draw his attention to matter on which we might Converse more calmly. Knowing him to be fond of subjects connected with the study of the English language, I touched him upon an inaccuracy of speech of which he had been guilty, expecting it would produce some pleasant dispassicnate argument; but in this I was mistaken: he grew so heated, that it became necessary for me to take my leave of him; for the coolness with which I argued but irritated him so much the more; and he dismissed me by say 311 argue upon any points relating to the intricate study of language; therefore take this advice from me-ne sutor ultrà crepidam." Now, Sir, this has caused a breach between us, which can be healed only by the kind mediation of some of your correspondents; and in order to furnish them with the means of settling the dispute, I shall briefly acquaint them with the particulars. I argue, that it is not allowable in our language to use the superlative form of an adjective, when comparing or bringing in opposition two persons or things, and therefore that such expressions as the best of the two, the worst of the two, the wisest of the two, &c. are incorrect. I would say, the better of the two, the worse of the two, the wiser of the two, &c.; for I maintain that the superlative degree is not allowable, except when three or more persons, or things, are compared. My friend argues obstinately in favour of the former mode of expression, and produces the following examples from Addison to support his argument, viz. "An evil intention perverts the best actions"-" We made the st of our way"-" Our sport is at the best"-and he further adds, that Mr. Murray, in his English Grammar, in speaking particularly of words of two syllables, calls one of them the first, and the other the last syllable; and in another part of his Grammar, in defining particularly the application of the words this and that, which of course generally refer to two persons or things brought in opposition to, or comparison with, each other, he says, this refers to the nearest person or thing, and that to the most distant. He concludes by retailing to me the indecisive opinion of Dr. Johnson, who says, "The comparison of adjectives is very uncertain, and being much regulated by commodiousness of utterance, or agreeableness of sound, is not easily reduced to rules." I have now furnished your readers with all my opponent's arguments, and, to act handsomely by him, shall forbear giving my own, lest they should cast the bias in my favour. Hoping sincerely for an answer to this from some one of your numerous correspondents, I am, &c. P. H. W. March 24, 1815. MR. EDITOR, IN perusing your magazine for March, ing, "You are totally incompetent to my attention was particularly attracted 312 Church Music-Arguments against Popery. by the article on Church Music (p. 107) signed Verité, and though I agree with him as to the present age, which he styles "the age for music," still I think church music (meaning plain psalmody) could never have been so much neglected as it now is, particularly in many of the churches and chapels in and'near London, where the greater part of the congregation either think it a part of the worship for the clerk and organist, or else not fashionable enough for their attention. At a chapel where I generally attend, even standing during the singing seems to be too fatiguing; and I doubt, were it not for the expense, we should have some of the theatrical performers engaged, as is the case at some of the fashionable chapels near the squares, where plain psalmody is neglected for lighter compositions, and those who would wish to join in this part of the service are prevented either by the difficulty of the music, or the notice they [May I I will venture to affirm, that if they were MR. EDITOR; A CHURCHMAN, true Protestants are united in supporting AT a time when the endeavours of all encroachments of their Catholic oppothe good old cause, and in repelling the sers, it will not surely be amiss to set before them a brief summary of the their church are founded; to recal to arguments on which the doctrines of their mitrds, more especially, those strong and convincing reasonings by which the principles of their opponents are so completely exposed. In order in some I take the liberty of presenting to your degree to accomplish this important end, readers the following BRIEF SUMMARY OF THE ARGUMENTS AGAINST POPERY. would attract from the beau monde. As Verité has confined his opinion to the better regulating cathedral music only, I beg leave to offer a plan for churches I. On the Supremacy of St. Peter and and chapel, where plain psalmody is used, and where the congregation would be able to join if the following plain rules were adopted. First, It should be the duty of the clergyman to select a proper portion of the Psalms, with an appendix of hymns on various occasions, as the Morning, Evening, New Year, Easter, Sacramental, &c. Secondly, The organist should select the easiest and plainest tunes attending principally to those whose melodies are most pleasing. Thirdly, The clerk should be able to lead the congregation; this is more requisite than any other part of his duty, and must be obvious to every musical person. Fourthly, Families and schools, whose ladies play the piano-forte, should be in possession of the music, which surely may be had of the organist copied for a small remuneration. Lastly, The church or chapel should be opened one evening in the week for sach of the congregation as would like to attend, to practise with the organist and clerk, who should be paid for this additional attendance. We never can expect, Mr. Editor, although a musical age, to arrive at any perfection in church music, unless some such rules as those are established; and the Bishops of Rome. 1. There is no mention of such an officer as the Pope in Scripture. 2. Our Lord himself has frequently declared against a superiority among his apostles. (Vid. Matth. xx. 20, and Luke, ix. 46.) 3. Neither did the Apostles, after Our Lord's ascension, admit of it. 4. We have no positive or convincing proof that St. Peter was Bishop of Rome. 5. Even if he was, the grant of the supremacy might be only personal, and terminate with himself, 6. If we should granty for argument's sake,, that the supremacy descended to St. Peter's successors at Rome, we shall find it impossible to derive the succession in an uninterrupted line. The rock, mentioned in the 16th and 19th verses of the 16th chapter of Matthew, is interpreted by many learned men as the "confession of Peter's faith." Jesus Christ is the only head of his church, and to him alone are they united: A supreme jurisdiction and authority over the Christian Church is the very mark and character of the Man of Sin and Son of Perdition (Vid. 2 Thessal, 3 and 4.) As a confirmation of the above arguments, consult the following Scrip tures:-Ephes. ii. 20; 2 Corinth. i. 247 1 Corinth. xii. 26; Ephes. iv. 11; 20 rinth. xi. 5; Galat. ii. 11; Psalms, cxxv 1; Acts, iii. 6; and the Epistles of Str Peter. 1815.] The Sausage-maker, from Aristophanes. 313 II. On the Doctrine of Transubstantia- is nothing new under the sun;" för much tion. In considering the expressions of our Saviour, in Luke, xxii. 19 and 20, the Papists hold that there is a conversion or change of the whole substance of bread into the whole substance of the body. 1. There is no necessity for understanding the words in this sense; they are mere figurative expressions; putting the sign for the thing signified: as when he said, "I am the true vine;" so he says, "This bread is (signifies) my body." 2. It is not a convenient or probable sense; it is neither agreeable to the subject spoken of, nor the occasion of speaking them. 3. It is not a 'consistent sense, or suitable to the accompanying expression of "Do this in remembrance of me." With what propriety can it be said, "Take myself to remember me by?" 4. It is not reason able or agreeable to the principles of human nature. 5. It is an impossible sense, and cannot be true; for it implies a great deal of contradiction: as when our Lord instituted the Sacrament before he suffered, that his body was broken "and not broken, his blood shed and not shed at the same time; that his natural 'body, which is but one, is at the same time many this one body in heaven, and 10,000 bodies on earth; that it had a being 1700 years ago, and is made afresh every day. This sense also supposes accidents to subsist without any subject. Consult John, xv. 1, &c.; 1 Corinth. xi. 26, 27, and 28; Jolin, iv. 24. 26. These words were not so understood in the first ages of the Christian church; transubstantion was first started by a monk in the seventh century. 7. This (doctrine leads, -as has been often found, to great immorality, to idolatry, cruelty, and profaneness. And lastly, It is an infinite scandal, especially to unbelievers, and an effectual prejudice to the 'propagation of the gospel. On these particulars I could easily enlarge; but enough has, I trust, been said to convince every unprejudiced mind of the utter want of support these (two great doctrines have, either from scripture or reason. The subject shall be perhaps resumed at a future period. Meanwhile I remain, -yours, &c. 募 MR. SEDITOR, THEOPHILUS. I WAS very much struck the other day with a scene in one of the comedies of Aristophanes, which forcibly brought to my mind the trite remark that "there NEW MONTHLY MAG.-No. 16. as we have been accustomed of late years to consider the revolutions of our times in the light of new discoveries, it will appear, I think, from the condensed view which I now send you of the comic delineation of the Athenian satirist, that he was perfectly well versed in all the arts by which states may be overthrown, and the vilest of the people raised to power and popularity, while the virtuous and honourable are reduced to wretchedness. In the comedy to which I allude, the poet introduces a leading character of that day, who is generally supposed to have been Cleon, noted for his mischiev ous oratory, and his enmity to the best men of the age, but without having a particle of common honesty in his own character. This worthy personage, who is represented as always on the alert to make converts, mets with a poor sausagemaker, with whom he immediately enters into conversation upon the affairs of government, the hardships of the people, and the peculations of their rulers. The man appears at first to treat the orator rather rudely, as one who intended to laugh at a poor fellow who had other business to mind than the study of politics. Upon this the poet very adroitly describes the wheedling orator as removing this vulgar prejudice, by awakening the attention of the sausage-maker. "Behold," says he, "all these classes of society, and all the orders in the state: I tell you, my friend, that you shall be their leader and their sovereign; you shall rule the senate, and give orders to the generals." Who? I!" says the wondering sausagemaker. "Yes, you shall do it," quoth the orator; " and as a proof that I am in earnest, get upon the table where you are making sausages, and look out at the window. Do you see that world of business going on at the customhouse, and the number of vessels that are loading and unloading their merchandize ?""See them!" exclaims the man: 66 to be sure I do : but what then?" "Why then I tell you that all these things shall be at your disposal: for the oracle says that you shall be the greatest of men."" How can this possibly happen?" cries the fellow almost out of his wits, "how can I be a great man who am still but a sausage-maker, and for aught that I can find must die in that occupation?"" My reason for judging so is this," answers the advocate, "that the oracle has so declared it, because you are both bold and wicked."-" But, VOL. III. 2 T 314 Chateaubriand's Visit to Mount Vesuvius. for all that, I think myself unworthy of grandeur," rejoined the fellow. "What does that signify," replied the other; do you think yourself to be a good or a bad man?"-" Nay, for that matter," honestly returns the sausage-maker, "I am bad enough."" Then I give you joy, for you will find yourself so much better qualified when you come to do your business; since our state has now no need of men of letters and principle, but must be governed by the bold and the ignorant, the audacious and immoral; therefore do not despise any longer what the oracles have predicted, and by which you are assured of the great honours that await you and persons of your description."" But," answers the sau sage-maker," how is it possible that I should be able to govern the people, not having the least knowledge of such concerns?""With all the ease in the world, my good friend," replies the orator, "do only what you have been used to do in your former line of busi ness, mix, jumble, disturb, and confound matters; feign and invent any thing to please and delude the rabble; and as to the rest, you have many great talents that are proper to gain their good opinion. You have a false tongue and a mischievous disposition: you love quarrelling, and are naturally cruel, besides which, as I can perceive, you are extremely obstinate, and possess no small portion of low cunning; which are all, in fact, so many qualities of which the Republic at present stands in great need, and therefore as you have them all happily blended in your own person, no doubt can remain that in a very short time, by the application of your powers, you will be the first man in the state, though now you are no more than a sausage-maker." Such is the picture delineated by that incomparable satirist, and the application of it to our own times will not be difficult. J. W. March 31, 1815. VISIT TO MOUNT VESUVIUS. [This interesting article forms part of a volume from the pen of the eloquent CHATEAUBRIAND, which will speedily appear under the title of Recollections of Italy, England, and America. An Historical, Moral, and Political Essay on Revolutions, Ancient and Modern, by the same writer, is also nearly ready for publication, and must be allowed to be peculiarly appropriate to the present crisis.] ON the 5th of January I left Naples [May 1, at seven o'clock in the morning, and proceeded to Portici. The sun had chased away the clouds of night, but the head of Vesuvius is always wrapt in mist. I began my journey up the mountain with a Cicerone, who provided two mules, one for me and one for himself. The ascent was at first on a tolerably wide road, between two plantations of vines, which were trained upon poplars. I soon began to feel the cold wintry air, but kept advancing, and at length perceived, a little below the vapours of the middle region, the tops of some trees. They were the elms of the hermitage. The miserable habitations of the vinedressers were now visible on both sides, amidst a rich abundance of lachryme Christi. In other respects I observed a parched soil, and naked vines intermixed with pine-trees in the form of an um brella, some aloes in the hedges, innumerable rolling-stones, and not a single bird. On reaching the first level ground of the mountain a naked plain lay stretched before me, and I had also in view the two summits of Vesuvius-on the left the Somma, on the right the present mouth of the volcano. These two heads were enveloped in pale clouds. I proceeded. On one side the Somma falls in, and on the other I began to distine guish the hollows made in the cone of the volcano, which I was about to climb. The lava of 1766 and 1769 covered the plain which I was crossing. It is a frightful smoky desert, where the lava cast out like dross from a forge displays its whitish scum upon a black ground, exactly resembling dried moss. Leaving the cone of the volcano to the right, and following the road on the left, I reached the foot of a hill, or rather a wall formed of the lava, which overwhelmed Herculaneum. This species of wall is planted with vines on the borders of the plain, and on the opposite side is a deep valley, filled by a coppice. The air now began to bite shrewdly." I climbed this hill in order to visit the hermitage which I perceived from the intended for the public eye, as will easily be The following observations were not perceived from the particular character of the reflections which they contain. They cended to the crater of the volcano. I have were principally written in pencil as I asjournal, that I might not in any degree innot chosen to correct any part of this short terfere with the truth of the narrative; but for the reasons mentioned the reader is re quested to peruse it with indulgence. |