most greatly drawn, the most heroic of any of Shakspeare's actors; but it is, perhaps, that one also of which his reader last acquires the intelligence. The intellectual and warlike energy of his mind-his tenderness of affection-his loftiness of spirit-his frank, generous magnanimity-impetuosity like a thunderbolt-and that dark, fierce flood of boiling passion, polluting even his imagination,-compose a character entirely original, most difficult to delineate, but perfectly delineated." Emilia in this play is a perfect portrait from common life, a masterpiece in the Flemish style: and though not necessary as a contrast, it cannot be but that the thorough vulgarity, the loose principles of this plebeian woman, united to a high degree of spirit, energetic feeling, strong sense, and low cunning, serve to place in brighter relief the exquisite refinement, the moral grace, the unblemished truth, and the soft submission of Desdemona. On the other perfections of this tragedy, considered as a production of genius-on the wonderful characters of Othello and Iago—on the skill with which the plot is conducted, and its simplicity which a word unravels,' and on the overpowering horror of the catastrophe-eloquence and analytical criticism have been exhausted; I will only add, that the source of the pathos throughout-of that pathos which at once softens and deepens the tragic effect-lies in the character of Desdemona. No woman differently constituted could have excited the same intense and painful compassion, without losing something of that exalted charm, which invests her from beginning to end, which we are apt to impute to the interest of the situation, and to the poetical colouring, but which lies, in fact, in the very essence of the character. Desdemona, with all her timid flexibility and soft acquiescence, is not weak; for the negative alone is weak; and 1 Consequences are so linked together, that the exclamation of Emilia, O thou dull Moor!-That handkerchief thou speakest of I found by fortune, and did give my husband! is sufficient to reveal to Othello the whole history of his ruin. the mere presence of goodness and affection implies in itself a species of power; power without consciousness, power without effort, power with repose that soul of grace! I know a Desdemona in real life, one in whom the absence of intellectual power is never felt as a deficiency, nor the absence of energy of will as impairing the dignity, nor the most imperturbable serenity, as a want of feeling: one in whom thoughts appear mere instincts, the sentiment of rectitude supplies the principle, and virtue itself seems rather a necessary state of being, than an imposed law. No shade of sin or vanity has yet stolen over that bright innocence. No discord within has marred the loveliness without-no strife of the factitious world without has disturbed the harmony within. The comprehension of evil appears for ever shut out, as if goodness had converted all things to itself; and all to the pure in heart must necessarily be pure. The impression produced is exactly that of the character of Desdemona; genius is a rare thing, but abstract goodness is rarer. In Desdemona we cannot but feel that the slightest manifestation of intellectual power or active will would have injured the dramatic effect. She is a victim consecrated from the first,-" an offering without blemish," alone worthy of the grand final sacrifice; all harmony, all grace, all purity, all tenderness, all truth! But, alas! to see her fluttering like a cherub, in the talons of a fiend!-to see herO poor Desdemona! VOL. II. E |