a few observations on Shakspeare's Supernatural Beings, we shall therefore content ourselves with saying, that Lady Macbeth seems to be a sort of connecting link between those "foul anomalies," those malevolent beings, in whom all that is malignant and base in the female character is exaggerated to an unearthly stature, and those gentler beings, such as Juliet and Desdemona, who, with frailties and imperfections which ally them to earth, yet approximate to those superior and benevolent spirits of whom we have such an exquisite picture in Ariel, and the Fairies in the "Midsummer Night's Dream." Cleopatra and Isabella, are further instances of Shakspeare's power of exhibiting the loftier and stronger traits of the female character; and how strange is the neglect with which the play, in which the former character occurs, is treated! It is certainly, altogether, one of Shakspeare's most magnificent productions. Above all, his picture of the fascinating Egyptian Queen is a master-piece. In perusing it, we feel no longer astonished that crowns and empires were sacrificed for her. "The soft Triumvir's fault" is easily "forgiven." We no longer wonder at,-we scarcely pity him,-so splendid is the prize for which he is content to "Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide arch The Reader, for this is not on the list of acting plays,—is himself caught in the golden snare. The play is occupied with battles and treaties, with wars and commotions, with the quarrels of monarchs and the destinies of the world, yet all are forgotten when Cleopatra is on the scene. We have many and splendid descriptions of her personal charms, but it is her mind, the strength of her passion, the fervour and fury of her love, the bitterness of her hatred, and the desperation of her death, which take so strong a hold upon the imagination. We follow her, admire her, sympathize with her, through all, and after the Asp has done its fatal work, who does not exclaim with Charmion ? "Now boast thee, Death! in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd!" How different a being from this, is the ill-fated fair who slumbers in "the tomb of all the Capulets." She is all gentleness and mildness, all hidden passion, and silent suffering; but her love is as ardent, her sorrows are as overwhelming, and her death as melancholy. "The gentle lady wedded to the Moor" is another sweet, still picture, which we contemplate with admiration, until death drops his curtain over it. Imogen and Miranda, Perdita and Ophelia, Cordelia, Helen and Viola, need only be mentioned to recal to the mind the most fascinating pictures of female character which have ever been delineated. The last is a mere sketch, but it is a most charming one. It seems to be a kind of study,-if we may borrow an expression from the technicalities of the sister art,which the Author intended to have worked up into a more elaborate portrait. Her early misfortunes, her romantic love, her extraordinary and JANUARY, 1824.-No. 261. 73 embarrassing situation as Orsino's ambassador to Olivia,—but we need not describe her further. Our remarks have hitherto been confined to Shakspeare's Tragedies, but it is fair to retort upon those who deny his power of pourtraying the female character, by pointing to the exquisite specimens with which his Comedies abound. It will be sufficient to adduce two,-Rosalind and Beatrice. What a fascinating creature is the first' what an admirable compound of wit, gaiety, and good humour, blended, at the same time, with deep and strong passion, with courage and resolution, as evinced in her departure from her Uncle's court, with unshaken affection to her father, and constant and fervent love for Orlando. How extraordinary and romantic is the character of Rosalind, if we contemplate it in the abstract, yet how beautiful and true to nature if we examine it in all Shakspeare's details. Beatrice is a character of a very different stamp from Rosalind, although resembling her in some particulars. She has all her wit, but, it must be confessed, without her good humour. Her arrows are not merely piercing, but poisoned. Rosalind's is cheerful raillery,-Beatrice's satirical bitterness,-Rosalind is not only afraid to strike, but unwilling to wound. Beatrice is, at least, careless of the effect of her wit, if she can but find an opportunity to utter it. But Shakspeare has no heartless characters in his dramas, he has no mere "intellectual gladiators," as Dr. Johnson has well styled the Actors in the witty scenes of Congreve. Beatrice has strong and easily excited feelings. Love is called into action by the stratagem of the garden scene; and rage, indignation, and revenge, by the slanders cast upon her cousin. We have heard the character called inconsistent, but what is human nature but a tissue of inconsistencies? or rather, are not our hopes, fears, affections, and passions, linked together by a thread so fine, that only the gifted eye of such a poet as Shakspeare can discover it? The changes of purpose and passion, as developed by him in the mind of Beatrice, strike us as being any thing but inconsistencies; abrupt and surprising they certainly are, but they are accounted for by motives of extraordinary weight, and feelings of singular susceptibility. Before we close this subject, however, we would say a few words upon the neglected play entitled " Pericles," first, because it contains a very sweet and interesting female character,-that of Marina, the heroine, and, secondly, because its authenticity,-strangely enough, in our opinion, has been questioned by the commentators. To begin with the last mentioned topic, it appears clearly to us to be a production of Shakspeare's although certainly a production of his earlier years. The inconsistency and confusion of the plot, and the inartificial manner in which inany of the events are brought about, prove it to be the work of a Tyro in the art; but the delicate touches of Nature, the beautiful delineations of character, the sweet flow of its verse, and the rich vein of poetry and imagination, which pervades the whole, betray the master's hand, and entitle it, in our opinion, to a high rank among the works of Shakspeare. How fine, for instance, is the following soliloquy of Pericles, on a ship at sea: Thou God of the great vast! rebuke these surges Having call'd them from the deep! Oh! still thy deaf'ning, Unheard." The description of the recovery of Thaisa from a state of suspended animation, is also most powerfully eloquent :- "Nature awakes; a warmth Breathes out of her; she hath not been entranced She is alive; behold, Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels Begin to part their fringes of bright gold ; But it is with Marina with whem our present subject has to do, who is born at sea, during a storm. Our Author, in this Play, as in the "Winter's Tale," leaps over the intervening years, and shows Marina, in the fourth Act, on the eve of womanhood;" and her first speech, en the death of her Nurse, is sweetly plaintive and poetical: "No,-no;-I will rob Tellus of her weed To strew thy grave with flowers; the yellows, blues, While summer days do last. Ah me! poor maid, This world to me is like a lasting storm, Whirring me from my friends." The pathos and eloquence with which she pleads for her life, with the ruffian who is hired to murder her, reminds us of the scene between Arthur and Hubert: Leonine. Come, say your prayers speedily. Mar. Leo. Mar. Leo. Mar. What mean you? If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it: pray; but be not tedious, For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn To do my work with haste. Why will you kill me? To satisfy my Lady. Why would she have me kill'd? Leo. Mar. Is not to reason of the deed, but do it. When you caught hurt in parting two that fought: She is rescued from the hands of the Assassin by Pirates, and afterwards undergoes a variety of adventures, in all of which the mingled gentleness and dignity of her character is most admirably developed. The interview with her father, in the fifth Act, is, indeed, one of the most powerful and affecting passages in the whole range of the British Drama; but we hope we have said enough to induce such of our Readers as are unacquainted with this play, to peruse it immediately; and judge for themselves, whether the mighty hand of Shakspeare is not visible throughout. We think the preceding observations have sufficiently shown, not only the great power and skill of Shakspeare in his delineation of the female character, but also that he exhibits as great resources, and as much fertility of genius in them, as in any of the other characters of his Dramas. The Champions who have broken a lance in favour of Shakspeares Females, haye usually confined their observations to the gracefulness and gentleness of such characters as Juliet, and Imogen, and Desdemona, but when we remember that the same pencil has painted Isabella, Constance, Lady Macbeth, Cleopatra, Katherine, Beatrice, and Rosalind, then we say, that if Shakspeare had never given us a single masculine portrait, still he would have shown a powerful and original genius, which, in fecundity and versatility, as well as in elegance and gracefulness, has never, perhaps, been equalled, and has certainly never been surpassed. THE LAST ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS. The personal Narrative of an Excursion up the Mountain during the explosion of February 24th, 1822.-Printed by permission from the original MS. Letter from Naples. "Saturday, Feb. 23d.-I have just seen a most magnificent sight, one which I have often dreamed of, often longed to behold, and having beheld, never shall forget:-Mount Vesuvius is at this moment blazing like a huge furnace, throwing up every minute, or half minute, columns of fire and red hot stones, which fall in showers and bound down the side of the mountain. On the opposite side, the East, there are two distinct streams of lava descending, which glow with almost a white heat, and every burst of flame is accompanied by a noise resembling cannon at a great distance. I can hardly write, my mind is so overflowing with astonishment, admiration, and sublime pleasure: what a scene as I looked out on the Bay from the Chiata mountain! On one side, the evening star and the thread-like crescent of the new moon were sitting close together over Pansilippo, and were reflected in lines of silver radiance on the blue sea: on the other, the broad train of fierce red light glared upon the water with a fitful splendour, as the explosions were more or less violent: before me all was so soft, so lovely, so tranquil, while I had only to turn my head to be awe-struck by the convulsions of fighting elements. "I remember, that at our first arrival at Naples, I was disappointed because Vesuvius did not smoke so much as I had been led to expect from the pictures and descriptions I had seen and heard. The smoke then lay like a scarcely perceptible cloud on the highest point, or rose in a slender white column; but to-day, and yesterday, it has rolled from the crater in black volumes, mixing with the clouds above and darkening the sky. "Half-past Twelve.-I have walked out again,--the blaze from the crater is less vivid; but there are now four streams of lava issuing from it, which have united in two broad currents, one of which extends below the Hermitage. It is probable that by to-morrow night it will have reached the lower part of the mountain. "Sunday, 24th, Five o'clock.I have just been driving along the Mergellina, whence we had a fine view of Vesuvius. There are tremendous bursts of smoke from the crater. At one time, the whole mountain, down to the very base, was almost enveloped, and the atmosphere around it loaded with the vapour, which seemed to issue in volumes half as large as the mountain itself. If horses are to be had we go up to-night "Monday Night, 25th.-I am not in a humour to describe, or give way to any poetical flight, but I must endeavour to give a faithful, sober, and circumstantial account of our last night's expedition, while its impressions are yet fresh on my mind; though there is, I think, little danger of my forgetting. We got horses, which, from the number of persons proceeding on the same errand with ourselves, was a matter of some difficulty. We set off at seven, in an open carriage, and almost the whole way we had the mountain before us, spouting fire to a prodigious height. The road was crowded with groups of people who had come out from the city and environs to take a nearer view of the magnificent spectacle, and numbers were burrying to and fro in those little flying fiacres which are peculiar to Naples. As we approached, the explosions became more and more vivid, and at every tremendous burst of fire my companion jumped half off his seat, making most loud and characteristic exclamations,- By Jove! a magnificent fellow! now for * Corribili is the name of these singular machines. |
