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AN ESSAY
ON
THE PLAY OF THE TEMPEST,
REMARKS ON THE SUPERSTITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES
SOME ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE CHARACTER OF
CALIBAN ; WITH VARIOUS REFLECTIONS ON THE
WRITINGS AND GENIUS OF SHAKSPERE.
READ BEFORE THE SHAKSPERE CLUB,
6th September, 1839.
By P. MACDONNELL,
{Formerly President of the Royal Physical Society of Edinburgh)
JOHN FELLOWES, 36, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD.
MDCCCXL.
fir*, sa
•Ma
The Play of THE TEMPEST, as it was last performed 3d June,
1839, at the Theatre Royal Covent Garden, under the manage-
ment of
W. C. MACREADY, ESQ.
Alonzo King of Naples Mr. Ward.
Sebastian (his brother) Mr. Diddear.
Prospero (the rightful Duke of Milan) . .Mr. Macready.
Antonio (his brother) Mr. Phelps.
Ferdinand (son to the King of Naples) . . . Mr. Anderson.
Gonzalo . . . Mr. VValdron.
Adrien • Mr. Bender.
Francisco Mr. C. J. Smith.
Caliban (a deformed slave) Mr. G. Bennett.
Trinculo (a jester) Mr. Harley.
Stephano (a drunken butler) Mr. Bartley.
Miranda (daughter to Prospero) Miss. H. Faucit.
Ariel (an airy spirit) Miss. P. Horton.
Spirits in the Vision.
Iris. — Mrs. Serle. Ceres— Miss. P. Horton.
Juno — Miss. Rainsforth.
The Music selected from the works of Purcell, Linley, and Dr.
Arne, and arranged by Mr. T. Cooke.
ON THE TEMPEST
THE POET'S EYE, IN A FINE FRENZY ROLLING,
DOTH GLANCE FROM HEAVEN TO EARTH, FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN,
AND AS IMAGINATION BODIES FORTH
THE FORM OF THINGS UNKNOWN, THE POEt's PEN
TURNS THEM TO SHAPE, AND GIVES TO AIRY NOTHING
A LOCAL HABITATION, AND A NAME.
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
It has been well observed, that the play of the
Tempest, carries us beyond the limits of nature,
without forsaking sense; — its enchantment no
doubt has given to fiction all the appearance of
reality; but the genius of poetry having now in
modern times, left the abodes of supernatural
beings, the poet revels no more, in those un-
controlled and boundless dominions of fancy.
Shakspere, however, wrote congenial to the period
in which he lived ; the lofty powers of his imagi-
nation knew no bounds, and in soaring far beyond
the regions of terrestrial existence, to please the
taste, and suit the prejudices of his day, he has
given to the world, a magnificent proof, of the
ON THE TEMPEST,
extent of his genius, and has left behind him, a
source of intellectual enjoyment, that will ever
influence the heart of man, with the sweetest and
tenderest emotions. The mental vigor displayed
in the Tempest, furnishes a beautiful illustration of
the powers of the human brain, and in a moral and
poetical point of view, presents to us, scenes and
events truly pleasing and instructive ; but amidst
all this grandeur and beauty, the calm spirit of
philosophy, will ever have something to deplore,
connected as it is, with a subject, which in its effects,
has tended in former days, to promote great evil.
Every age and country have had their superstitions,
and though the belief in the existence of preter-
natural beings, has given birth to those inventions,
from which poetry derives its highest distinctions,
and created a sublimity of thought, and a nobleness
of enthusiasm, that almost sanctifies the dreams of
fiction,— yet the origin of those supernatural fancies,
it must be admitted, can be traced to no other
source than the extreme ignorance of the human
mind. Mankind, in former ages, were entirely
excluded from a knowledge of the operations of
nature;— totally unacquainted with those principles
of science, which distinguish the philosophy of the
present day, they became the slaves of their own
fears, and under the gloomy sway of that gothic
darkness, which for centuries prevailed in Europe,
every element was imagined the residence of a
demon ;— ghosts, goblins, and witches, were the
terror of the world, the belief of which, entailed
not only calamity and misery upon individuals,
m THE TEMPEST. 3
but operated materially against the destiny of
nations : the unhappy fate of the brave but unfor-
tunate Maid of Orleans, one instance amongst
many that could be recorded, while it awakens our
sympathy, will ever remain an indelible stain upon
the page of history. Even in the plenitude of
ancient Rome, the influence of such belief guided
the destinies of that great empire, as Plutarch tells
us, that the energies of Marcus Brutus were greatly
destroyed, by his having seen in his camp the
ghost of Julius Caesar, the night previous to the
battle of Phillippi.
It would, however, be foreign to my purpose, to
enter minutely into the history of the human mind,
connected with superstition, the detail of which,
will always present a durable monument of human
folly ;— science has done much, in our day, to give
to the aspect of human affairs, a very different
character ; but, melancholy as it is to contemplate,
the vestiges of ignorance and barbarism still sur-
round us ;— there are men in these later times,
who, endowed with much talent, have allowed
their minds to be shackled with all the trammels
of prejudice, and have indicated in their writings,
a great reluctance to throw off the superstition of
former ages : — Dr. Samuel Johnson and Sir Walter
Scott are a lamentable proof of this, the latter im-
plying, in his work on Demonology, that while a
belief exists in the immortality of the soul, there
will always be a prevalence of those opinions.
Scott, however, never wrote as a philosopher ; his
4 ©^ THE TEHretTo
ideas upon this subject are not to be relied on,
having neither the impression of candour, nor the
semblance of honesty ; his works certainly display
great talent, combined with deep research ; but,
throughout the vast range of his extensive produc-
tions, there is scarcely one sentiment to be found,
which will secure to him, the praise of posterity,
or show that his mind was ever imbued with that
elevation of thought, to serve and promote the true
interests of mankind. The strong love of life
which is interwoven with the feelings of man, has
made him look forward to an existence beyond the
grave, and in approaching
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No traveller returns ;
his mind, amidst the storms which on his wayward
and troubled journey often assail him, is solaced
by enjoying the prospect, of those scenes of future
bliss, which he trusts, are awaiting him ;— the most
virtuous of men, have in all past times, maintained
the soul's immortality, and those of the present
day, would, in all probability, feel themselves de-
graded, were we to impute to them, the belief of
ghosts, and such other phantasies ; — the reasoning
of Scott, is therefore untenable, as it is consola-
tory to know, that the progress of science and
philosophy, is doing every thing to banish from the
world such absurdities, those fancies of the mind
being now, happily, confined only to that very
illiterate portion of mankind, whose fate is so
pathetically alluded to by the immortal Gray—
QM THE .TElMKPESTa 5
But knowledge to their eyes, her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ;
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Many of the principles of natural philosophy,
were well known to the ancients, but the
darkness and barbarism, which prevailed over
Europe during the middle ages, threw the know-
ledge of those principles into obscurity, till the
revival of learning again developed them. The
elements of science in modern times, are, there-
fore, now so well understood, that to every well
informed mind, those supernatural powers,^) in
the credence of which the energies of man for ages
were paralyzed, have entirely vanished, and are
looked upon in no other light, than the mere crea-
tion, of disordered imaginations. Our immortal
poet, though he has in the Tempest, and other
plays, brought forward those agencies, to give
effect to the scenes which he drew, well knew
that they did not exist in nature ;— his great and
comprehensive mind, extended far beyond the pre-
judices of his time, for, when alluding to the Ghost
of Hamlet, he very beautifully says— it was seen
" in the mind's eye," an observation closely cor-
responding with the philosophy of the present day.
Dr. Hibbert, in a work of great merit, entitled
" A Theory of Apparitions," has satisfactorily illus-
trated, that many of those appearances, are often to
be referred to disease ; the morbid feelings of the
brain, creating under particular circumstances,
6 ©3^ THE TEMPEST -
those phenomena, which have frequently led men,
of otherwise shrewd, and accurate intelligence, to
offer what they have considered, the most un-
doubted testimony, in behalf of supernatural ex-
istencies.
The age in which Shakspere lived, though it
can boast of a Bacon as a philosopher, and a
Spenser as a poet, was overwhelmed with the
darkest ignorance ; indeed, we may form some
idea, of the state of knowledge, among the people
in general, when we know that James the First,( 2 )
as an author, advocated the belief of witchcraft; a
circumstance, which perhaps, tended in some
degree, to give to the superstitions of this country,
that peculiar character, which, during the whole
of the seventeenth century, unhappily disgraced its
annals. Even the judges of the land, among
whom was the celebrated Sir Matthew Hale, at
that period condemned people to be burned alive,
for what was denominated the crime of sorcery :
among the thousands who suffered for these alleged
crimes, we find it recorded in the criminal trials
for Scotland, ( 3 ) that one Margaret Laing, was burnt
for being a witch, and having carnal knowledge
with the devil ! an accusation, corresponding with
the same kind of superstition, which gave to
Shakspere the idea, jthat Sycorax, the mother of
Caliban, had been guilty of the same crime;
for Prospero observes, when accosting Caliban-
Come forth, thou poisonous slave,
Got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam !
ON TOE TEMPEST. 7
Witchcraft and sorcery can be traced to very
remote periods, as many of the superstitions of the
middle ages, had their origin in the mythology of
the ancients; the character of them, undergoing
in different countries, great changes. Tacitus
informs us, that among the German tribes, sorcery
held such a sway over this barbarous people, that
the supposed possessors of it, rose to the highest
rank in their councils, and even obtained a share
in the direction of their armies : in latter times
it lost that influence, and while it formed a source
of romance, and fiction to the poet, it unfortu-
nately gave birth to laws, which, originating out
of ignorance, and cruelty, produced among man-
kind, the most direful consequences.
To pursue this theme further, would only create
to the reflecting mind, sensations of no satisfac-
tory nature ; for, whether we direct our attention,
in these rude ages, to the general events of life,
or to the records of legislation, connected with the
history of kings, and courts, we find mankind sunk,
and degraded, by the withering powers of supersti-
tion. The dawn of science, and literature, how-
ever, appeared amidst (what has been termed)
" the glories of the maiden reign," and emanations
of great brilliancy, about this period, began to
dispel those mists, which had so long enveloped in
darkness the human mind. Men prompted to
intellectual exertion, by the revival of letters, and
agitated by the religious revolutions of the times—
the splendour of the poet, with the deep thought
8 ©^ THE TE01PEST,
of the philosopher, were excited into action, whilst
the drama, awakening from its slumbers, pos-
sessed, in no small degree, in giving to the strug-
gle, between ignorance and knowledge, that cha-
racter, which led Dr. Johnson, justly to say —
When learning's triumph, o'er her barb'rous foes,
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspere rose !
Our illustrious bard, therefore, under circum-
stances quite uncongenial to the more advanced
periods of literature, wrote for a people, emerging
from the barbarism of former ages, and adapting
his dramas to the spirit of the times, the efforts of
his sublime and noble genius, gave to the world,
the splendid, romantic, and beautiful play of the
Tempest.
It is admitted by all commentators upon the
writings of Shakspere, that this drama, was among
the last of our author's productions, though no
one, has been able positively, to discover, the
romance upon which it is founded. ( 4 ) In the com-
position of the Tempest, Shakspere seems to have
been well aware, of the advantages, which the
ancient poets, derived from popular superstition,
and in the exertions of his poetic genius, he has
boldly called forth the magic spells, of that super-
natural power, so peculiar to the credulity of the
age, in which he lived;— amidst the most exquisite
beauties of classic literature, he leads us into all
the romance of poetic fable, and manages his
scenery with such skill and judgment, as to give
to fictitious existence, the air and appearance of
©^ TOE TEWEST, 9
reality : it is in the perusal of this remarkable
production, that we for a time, forget the influence
of reason and philosophy, and willingly give our-
selves up, to all the pleasures of the sweetest
delusion.
Prospero, the leading character of the play, is
endowed with the power of a magician, and in the
possession of a mind, enriched by wisdom and
great learning, he is enabled to accomplish those
virtuous ends, which his exalted and generous
views so nobly contemplated. The incidents are
interwoven with the powers of enchantment ; but
the development of the plot, displays one of the
most impressive, and affecting lessons of moral
feeling, that is to be found, in the whole range of
dramatic poetry.
The story of this drama, is founded upon certain
circumstances, connected with the life of Prospero,
Duke of Milan ; Anthonio his brother, usurping
the dukedom, by the instigation of Alonzo, king
of Naples, Prospero, with his daughter Miranda,
are compelled to seek refuge in an uninhabited
island. After a residence there of twelve years,
Prospero, by the powers of his magic, raises a
storm, whereby Anthonio, the usurper, with Alonzo,
Ferdinand his son, and Sebastian his brother,
with other attendants, are shipwrecked upon the
island during the tempest. By a concatenation of
strange and interesting events, Prospero is enabled
to bring within his reach Anthonio, and the rest
10 ©M TUE TMiFEST,
of the conspirators; with great magnanimity of
mind, Prospero disdains to seek revenge for the
injuries he had suffered; the generosity of his
character forgives them ; he betroths his daughter
Miranda to Ferdinand, and ultimately resolves, to
leave the Enchanted Isle, to solemnize the nuptials
of Ferdinand and Miranda at Naples ; while, dur-
ing his remaining days, he is to enjoy the Dukedom
of Milan. Though the source from which Shak-
spere has taken the incidents, upon which he has
built the structure of the " Tempest" is still a
matter of conjecture, Italy however, is the spot,
which has given birth, to the personages with
whom we meet in its story ; that beautiful coun-
try, once fertile with the stores of science and
literature, the remembrance of which, amidst the
desolation that now exists, only awakens in our
minds, the most mournful recollections; —this land
of literature and science, has, therefore, given to
Shakspere, the opportunity of endowing Prospero,
with all those qualities of learning, which encircle
his character; and, hence, we find, in the deep
solitude, that surrounded him in the Enchanted
Isle, he, unlike the moralizing Jacques, in " As
you like it," while in banishment in the Forest of
Arden, did not,
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ;
nor sought,
To find sermons in stones,
nor,
Books in the running brooks ;
QM THE tempest. 11
but, with a mind, cultivated by all the liberal arts,
and in the possession of a library, that he tells us,
his good friend Gonzalo had furnished him, and
which he prized above his dukedom, he was ena-
bled, by the power of his enchantment, to carry
out effectually his bold and generous designs.
The Play opens with a ship at sea, exposed to
all the horrors of a tempest ; thunder and light-
ning prevail, and ultimately the vessel is dashed
upon the shore of the Enchanted Island. We
have in this scene, every thing which can convey
to us, the dreadful calamities of a shipwreck : the
boatswain and master, like brave sailors, exhibiting
all those characteristics of cool and undaunted
courage, amidst the dangers that surround them;
whilst the conduct of the passengers, viz. Alonzo,
Sebastian, Anthonio, Ferdinand, and others, the
good Gonzalo excepted, display that fear and
dread, which a storm at sea, seldom fails to create,
among those, not accustomed to the rage and fury
of this element. The poet has drawn the scene
with his wonted power, and it has been remarked,
that in the naval dialogue of the mariners, it is the
first example of sailors' language, being exhibited
on the stage.
The subsequent events of the play, are laid in
the Enchanted Island, and the scene which opens
to our view, after the shipwreck, is pregnant with
deep interest. It is before the cell of Prospero,
where first we meet with him and his daughter
12 On TUE TE1M[PEST
Miranda; — influenced by all those high and tender
emotions, which render Miranda a gem of purity
and excellence, we behold her, imploring her father
to allay the roar of the wild waters, under the
belief, that he, by his art, had raised the storm,
and that all on board had perished; and in a
strain of great beauty, and tenderness, she ex-
claims —
O ! I have suffer'd,
With those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces : O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart ! Poor souls ! they perished.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or 'ere
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.
These are the sentiments of a noble mind, in-
spired by every feeling of compassion and hu-
manity, and impress us, with a high idea, how
beautifully, Shakspere could pourtray the passions
of the human heart ; lovely and gentle in her
nature, Miranda is one of those beings of woman-
kind, that the graphic powers of Shakspere, have
been so successful in delineating ; he has through-
out the play, drawn the daughter of Prospero, in
the possession of all those qualities, mingled with
sweet affection, which give to her sex, that benign
and potent influence, of subduing and controlling
the heart of man, amidst the ruder feelings of his
character ; for, like other great poets, our im-
mortal bard has shown, that woman, lovely wo-
©^ THE TEMUPESTc 13
man, was made to harmonize our souls ; to render
the rugged path of existence more easy, and
create to domestic happiness, those scenes, which
tend,
to animate the bliss,
And sweeten all the toils of human life.
Prospero, moved, in no ordinary degree, by the
virtue of Miranda, tells her to be of good comfort,
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee ;
I have, with such provision in mine art,
So safely order'd, that there is no soul, —
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel,
Which thou heard'st cry — which thou saw'st sink.
Having thus soothed the fears of Miranda, Pros-
pero takes the opportunity of unfolding to her, the
events of his life, the power and nature of his
enchantment, and the circumstances which led
him, to become the inhabitant of the Enchanted
Isle: his mind soured by misfortune, appears,
amidst the gentleness of his nature, stern and
severe ; there are, however, with this austerity, a
perfection of virtue, and a nobleness of design,
that render him truly exalted —devoted to the
care and instruction of his daughter, he is deeply
absorbed in her happiness ; for, says Prospero,
Since in this island we arriv'd,
Here have I, thy school master, made thee more profit,
Than other princes can, that have more time,
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
14 OM THE TEWEST.
a passage, which at once conveys to us, the ex-
cellence of Prospero, as a parent, and his inde-
pendence as a man ; impressed with the importance
of those duties, which devolve upon parents, in
regard to a correct education for their children,
our poet here, throws out a censure upon those,
who, influenced by the power of fashion, allow
the minds of their offspring, to be formed, by
preceptors, that in their avocations, often overlook
the interesting charge, of forming and directing
the heart, to those sentiments and maxims, which
always serve, as the best guidance to moral virtue.
Colleges and universities, may give, what is termed
a liberal education, but without the mind, is early
and deeply inbued, with those principles of moral
science, which can be reduced to great simplicity,
all the learning of the schools, will never con-
stitute that knowledge, so essentially necessary to
promote human happiness ;— in our intercourse
with life, we not unfrequently meet with men,
who, in the possession of every accomplishment
of scholastic learning, are totally destitute of the
ties of moral obligation, and to trace the source of
such turpitude, we can only do it, by referring
ourselves, to that system of education, which
stores the memory, and informs the understanding,
without animating and purifying the heart; "a
knowledge of words, rather than of things, is
taught," and it is lamentable to contemplate, to
use the language of the Rev. J. A. Emerton, of
Hanwell, whose excellent observations, upon this
subject, are the offspring, of that genuine philo-
©M TUE TEBWEIT. 15
sophy, which inspires the breast of every intelligent
and virtuous man, " that possessing the treasures of
ancient wisdom, and instructed by the experience
of all past ages, it must be solely owing to an
inattention to moral facts, that modern education
has not been able to effect considerable improve-
ment in the human character;" under the tuition,
of a man like Prospero, we therefore find Miranda
endowed by every quality, which excite our
minds, with the most lively emotions for her w T ell-
being ; — towards the close of this interesting scene,
we still behold her agitated by the remembrance
of the wreck, soliciting from her father, the reason
for raising the storm, to which Prospero replies,
Know thus far forth,
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies,
Brought to this shore : and by my prescience,
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star ; whose influence,
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions :
Thou art inclin'd to sleep ; 'tis a good dullness,
And give it way. — I know thou can'st not choose.
This sleep is brought upon Miranda, by the art of
Prospero, in order, that he may hear from Ariel,
how his commands have been disposed of. The
spirit Ariel, in conformity to the belief of the
superstition of Shakspere's time, belonged to the
regions of the air ; the spirits of which element,
were considered less malignant and mischievous
than those who took up their abode on the earth.
16 QM THE TEdrcST,
Ariel, therefore,in his character, is mild and gentle,
and being for a period, enslaved to the will of the
Enchanter, performs the commands of Prospero,
with willingness and dexterity ;— in this interview,
Ariel gives a fearful description of the tempest ;
but relates the safety of all on board, in the fol-
lowing manner,
Not a hair perisli'd —
On their sustaining garments, not a blemish,
But fresher than before, and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle :
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle. •
After receiving the orders of Prospero, to appear
shortly again to him, in the shape of a sea-nymph,
Ariel departs, when Miranda at this moment
awakes; and here we meet with Caliban, a crea-
ture in his nature, possessing all the rude elements
of the savage, yet maintaining in his mind, a strong-
resistance to that tyranny, which held him in the
thraldom of slavery : Caliban creates our pity,
more than our detestation. This " rude uncouth
monster/' as he is generally termed by some of
the commentators of Shakspere, it should be re-
membered, is seen only in this scene, free from the
influence of those intoxicating wines, given him
by Trinculo and Stephano ; and, certainly, amidst
the intemperance, in which he so freely indulges,
we see awakened in him, all the worst passions of
savage life. We learn, however, in this first in-
troduction to Caliban, that the policy of Prospero,
QM THE TE»[£ST D 17
led him to impart, to this unhappy slave a know-
ledge of language; but deeply impressed with. the
cruel usage he receives, Caliban remarks to
Prospero —
You taught me language — and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse ; the red-plague ( 5 ) rid you
For learning me your language !
a rebuke, which Prospero evidently seems, at
a loss, how to answer. Shakspere has drawn
Caliban, rude as he is, with feelings of strong
aversion to slavery, and it is with the view of
destroying the bondage under which he labours,
that urges him, in an after part of the play, to
form the plot against the life of Prospero : refusing,
however, at this interview, to obey the commands
of Prospero, Caliban is threatened to be racked,
with old cramps, and his bones to be filled with
aches,
so as to make him roar,
That beasts shall tremble at his din —
The scene excites much interest, and, at all events,
developes some very favorable marks, in the cha-
racter of Caliban, who seems to feel keenly, the
severe terms of reproach— as when he is addressing
Prospero, when alluding to his more early resi-
dence in the island, he says —
When thou came'st first,
Thou stroak'dst, and mad'st much of me, would'st give me
Water with berries in't ; and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee,
18 ©m THE TEHPE8T3
And sheivd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile.
an artless and simple narration, which certainly
indicates much kind feeling. Prospero, however
replies, that he used Caliban with human care,
and lodged him in his cell,
Till he did seek, to violate
The honor of his child,
a circumstance, which though it renders Caliban
guilty, can never justify the conduct of Prospero,
in such harsh and cruel treatment, for, it ought to
be kept in view, that this wild and untutored crea-
ture, was imprudently placed enough in the way,
to enable him, to make the attempt complained
of : the noble and generous character of Prospero,
therefore suffers, by this severe conduct to Cali-
ban, and I confess, I have never read, or witnessed
this scene, without experiencing a degree of pity,
for the poor, abject, and degraded slave.
The part of Caliban, has generally been exhi-
bited on the stage, in a manner, so as to excite
feelings, almost approaching to a painful and disa-
greeable kind ; but it has remained for the excel-
lence of Mr. G. Bennett, to delineate, the rude
and uncul f ivated savage, in a style, which arouses
our sympathies, in behalf of those, whose destiny,
it has never been, to enjoy the advantages of
civilization. Caliban, amidst the rudeness of his
nature, and possessing an exterior, ugly and mis-
shapen, will always, however, create attention ;—
stimulated to revenge, by the severity he suffers,
TUB T[
19
he has withal, qualities of a redeeming character.
The study of the part, therefore, requires both
energy and judgment ;— the task is one of great
difficulty, but Mr. Bennett, by his just conception
of it, has arrived at the acme of his art, and no
one, who has witnessed his performance, of this
" creature of Shakspere's imagination," but must
have acknowledged, the unrivalled talents, which
have guided him to so much success. The ardu-
ous performance of Caliban, has secured to this
excellent actor, the well-merited applause of many
an enlightened audience ; — the spontaneous tribute
of praise, that affords a strong proof, of the truth
of these observations— for by the judgment of an
unprejudiced public, and not of false and self-
interested criticism, the merits of every performer
should be ultimately decided.
Some of the characters drawn by Shakspere,
were never altogether understood, till the excel-
lence of the histrionic art developed them. Mr.
Bennett has given a true picture of Caliban— Shy-
lock, in the Merchant of Venice, was never com-
prehended correctly, till Macklin showed by his
acting, that the deadly spirit of revenge, which
actuated the Jew, was inconsistent with the style
of comedy;— this great actor, was the first, who
performed Shylock, as a tragic character, and
which led the celebrated Pope, to exclaim, when
witnessing the performance,
This is the Jew,
Which Shakspere drew.
20 0N THE TEdtPEST,
In our day, the tragic powers, which Edmund
Kean so eminently possessed, led him to pourtray
the tyrant Richard, in a manner, very different
from that, which influenced the acting of Garrick,
Cooke, and Kemble ;— the scene between Richard
and Anne, was, by these actors, always exhibited,
so as to excite in their audience, ridicule and
laughter, as it was imagined, that Richard, with
all his deformity, both of mind and body, making
love to a woman, whose husband he had mur-
dered, was perfectly incongruous : — Shakspere
was blamed for drawing a scene, not in unison with
nature ; — Kean showed, however, that it was iden-
tified with truth, for in his approach to Lady
Anne, his voice assumed all the tone and melody
of love, and with the flattery which is used, the
unhappy Anne, falls into the snare, laid for her, by
the heartless and deep designing Richard. Shak-
spere knew that, '- Flattery is the key which opes
the wicket of the female heart," and the fine acting
of Kean, rendered a scene, which before his time,
was deemed unnatural, congenial to the probabili-
ties of human life, and consistent with all the rules
of dramatic art.
The first act of the Tempest, embodies much of
the design of Prospero ;— his chief object, being
the marriage of his daughter Miranda, with young
Ferdinand, and to secure this point, he instructs
his spirit Ariel, to conduct Ferdinand to the sight
of Miranda, and dispose his mind to the influence
of love, while Prospero, prepares his daughter, to
©^ THE TEdtPESTo 21
be impressed with the same sentiments. Ariel
takes the opportunity of conveying to Ferdinand, in
a song accompanied with sweet music, the news
of his father's death, as it was necessary, the
young couple, should be betrothed, before the
knowledge of it came to Alonzo, for engaging
Ferdinand, without the consent of his father,
would have rendered the designs of Prospero more
difficult; we have, therefore, a very interesting
scene where Miranda discovers Ferdinand, whom
she supposes a spirit, but Prospero informs her,
This gallant, which thou see'st,
Was in the wreck ; and, but his something stain'd
With grief, (that's beauty's canker), thou might'st call him
A goodly person ; he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find them.
The interview, between Ferdinand and Miranda
is beautifully drawn, and displays great power in
Shakspere's knowledge of human nature:— Mi-
randa's affections are soon won, — Ferdinand com-
municates his birth, and quality, but not before
Prospero shows to the lover of Miranda, some
rough usage, lest he should think his prize too
lightly gained— accordingly, in an after part of
the play, we find Ferdinand employed in the
piling of logs, the labor of which, seems to distract
the tender feelings of Miranda : — Prospero being
in the distance, Ferdinand breathes to her " his
soul in love," while she, with all the simplicity of
a child of nature, ingeniously proffers herself, as
the wife of her beloved Ferdinand, and in this ex-
22 on THE TEDWE1T.
change of sentiment, we have one of those fine
and exquisite touches of nature, as Stevens very
justly remarks, which distinguishes Shakspere,
from all other writers, when Miranda says,
I am a fool !
To weep at what I am glad of.
she being unconscious, that the excess of joy, and
the extremity of grief, not unfrequently bring
relief by a flood of tears.
In the first scene of the second act, we meet
with Alonzo, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, and
others, contemplating their unhappy fate, and
pondering over the dangers they have encoun-
tered ; — Gonzalo makes some interesting remarks,
whilst Alonzo regrets his voyage to Tunis, which
was, for the object of marrying his daughter Cla-
ribel, to an African Prince ; he bewails the loss of
his son Ferdinand, whom he supposes drowned,
and amidst the desolation around them, Gonzalo
offers some curious views, upon the form of go-
vernment, which he would adopt, were he to have
the sovereignty of the island.
F th' commonwealth, I would by contraries
Execute all things ; for no kind of traffick
Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ;
Letters should not be known ; wealth, poverty,
And use of service, none ; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, olives, none ;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ;
No occupation ; all men idle, all,
And women too, but innocent and pure —
No sovereignty.
THE TEHPEST,
23
All things in common should produce
Without sweat or endeavor ; treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine
Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
These observations of the old councillor, as it
has been justly observed by Dr. Warburton, have
evidently been introduced by Shakspere, as a satire,
upon the Utopian treatises of government, though
among the ancient Spartans, efforts were made to
reduce human society, to a state, approaching to
the simplicity, which is here alluded to— hence it
is, that these philosophers and law-givers, Minos,
Plato, and Lycurgus, have been by the admirers
of such a system, ranked amongst its adherents : —
in modern times, those illustrious men, Sir Thomas
More, Rousseau, Montesquieu, and Mably, are
likewise named among its supporters, and who,
in their speculations on governments, affecting
human happiness, have argued ingeniously, in be-
half of this social condition of mankind, unconge-
nial, however, as it appears with the habits and
feelings of our nature. ( 6 )
Amidst the many pleasing, and agreeable
events of this play, the scene before us, however,
gives a sad picture, and a woful specimen, of the
degradation which we not unfrequently meet with,
in the records of human action; Prospero, the
rightful Duke of Milan, a noble and generous
character, devoting himself to the study of those
24 On THE TEQWEST,
pursuits, which would have tended to promote
knowledge amongst his people, is pounced upon, by
his brother Anthonio, aided by Alonzo, King of
Naples, and under the most profound confidence,
which the generous Prospero reposed in them, he,
with his daughter, a child at this period, of the
tender age of three years, are seized, put into a
boat, so crazy in its condition, without sails, or
masts, — so rotten, that,
" The very rats instinctively had quit it/'
and there, some leagues at sea, left to the mercy
of the wild and tempestuous ocean. This conspi-
racy, diabolical as it appears, is perfectly in ac-
cordance with the treachery, that is exhibited in
the scene, about to be described, the passage in
the commencement of which, having formed the
source of the foregoing observations.
We left the good Gonzalo, speculating upon the
form of government, which he wished to adopt in
the island, but these speculations, had of course
no effect, upon the party, to whom they were
addressed; — the mild and gentle Ariel, appears
at this juncture, playing solemn music : Gonzalo
falls into a heavy sleep, and Alonzo feeling him-
self overcome, gives way also to excessive drowsi-
ness ; but not till he receives the assurance of
Anthonio and Sebastian, that they will be his
guard, and save him from all harm. The base
Sebastian and Anthonio, taking advantage of this
occurrence, enter into a plot, to murder Alonzo,
©M THE TiHretTa 25
and the others, with the view of Sebastian gaining
the throne of Naples. Shakspere has drawn the
scene with his usual vigor, and which conveys, to
us, some remembrance, of the horror, which seizes
our minds, when the ambitious tyrant Macbeth,
murders Duncan in his sleep;— the language of
these assassins, is truly appropriate to their dark
conceptions, and shows the distrust, which villains
always hold, towards each other, before they fully
join in compact, to accomplish their wicked de-
signs : at the moment they are about to plunge
their swords, into the breasts of their intended vic-
tims, the interposition of Ariel saves them : Gon-
zalo awakes, discovers the treachery, and quickly
informs Alonzo of his danger. The scene termi-
nates by Ariel, saying,
Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have done,
So king go safely on, and seek thy son.
I cannot, however, close my remarks, connected
with these events, without alluding to a passage
of Anthonio's, when he is speaking of Claribel,
Queen of Tunis,
—She that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man's life,
A space, where every cubit,
Seems to cry out — How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples.
This is evidently a mere poetical fancy of Shak-
spere's, for no one, will suppose, that our author,
was so ignorant, as not to know, that Naples was
26 on TUE TElUPESTn
separated from Tunis, only by the breadth of the
Mediterranean sea, yet, a writer of great note,
gravely assures us, that this is one instance, amongst
many, of Shakspere's ignorance of geography,
when he supposes Tunis and Naples, to have been
at such an immeasurable distance from each other.
The same imputation has been made by various
writers ; it is, however, to be regretted , that a
commentator like Steevens, should have fallen into
such a prejudice, an author, otherwise distin-
guished for the many excellent observations, which
he has made upon the writings of Shakspere.
The vast and comprehensive view of the cus-
toms and manners of ancient states, connected
with his minute description of countries, situated
in the most remote regions of the earth, render it
highly improbable, that Shakspere, was in any way
deficient, in this department of human knowledge.
Indeed, Mr. Pope, when alluding to his great
acquirements, remarks, " Whatever object of
nature, or branch of science he either speaks of or
describes, it is always with competent, if not ex-
tensive learning." Mr. Theobald, notwithstanding
these considerations, also finds fault with the geo-
graphical information of our author, and accuses
him of gross absurdity, in the play of the Two
Gentlemen of Verona ; where Valentine, is said
to travel from Milan to Verona by sea ;— the reason
however, of all this confusion, as Dr. Johnson
very justly observes, seems to be, " That he took
his story from a novel, which he sometimes fol-
®M TOE TEMPEST. 27
lowed, and sometimes forsook, sometimes remem-
bered, and sometimes forgot."
We, therefore, in considering this subject, should
always keep in view, how much the text of Shak-
spere, from a variety of typographical errors ( 7 ) and
other inaccuracies has been damaged, the interpo-
lation of the players of his time, having, by an
undue interference, altered the meaning and con-
struction of many passages. Unconscious of his
great genius, and careless of future fame, Shak-
spere, some years before he died, retired to his
native place, and left his works, to be carried down
the stream of time, without even an effort, on his
part, to collect them : ( 8 )— they, however, have be-
come imperishable, and, though errors, and some
apparent absurdities, are occasionally to be met
with, arising out of those causes to which I have
just alluded, the volumes of this great poet will
ever be cherished, as those bright gems of literature,
" which the human heart endear ; " whilst the
power and capacity of his intellect, shall continue
to be estimated to an extent, that we may freely
assert, without any exaggeration, to quote from
a modern biographer, " a man may hope,"
To rival all but Shakspere's name below.
In the delineation of character., where dig-
nity of language, and purity of feeling, are re-
quired, no writer has ever surpassed Shakspere :
the beauty of his diction, the elegance of his style,
28 ©^ TOE TEflWElT.
in unison, with the sublimity of his conception,
never fail to create in our minds, thoughts of the
most exalted kind ; and we rise from the perusal
of his works, always impressed, with sentiments,
which give us the strongest attachment to virtue :
we are influenced by the mighty powers of his
genius, and are forcibly carried, into that current
of admiration, to consider him, not only an illus-
trious poet, but one of the greatest moral philoso-
phers that ever lived. He fathomed the deep
recesses of the human heart, and penetrated into
the feelings of our nature, with a minuteness and
accuracy, which leave us in wonder, when we
contemplate the magnitude of those powers, with
which he was endowed, beyond all other men.
In that excellent advice, of Polonius to Laertes,
in which are embodied, those maxims which
never should be lost sight of, in our progress
through life, Shakspere arrives at the basis of all
moral feeling, when alluding to the passion of
self-love, a passion which, if properly regu-
lated, really becomes one of the first of virtues ;
for, he who is guided by it correctly, will not only
secure his own happiness, but endeavour to ex-
tend a portion of it, to all his fellow creatures
around him. Pope says, " Self-love is the spring
of all human action ;" but differing very materially
from the cold philosophy of Rochefoucault, the
author of the Essay on Man, qualifies the asser-
tion, by justly observing, that self-love and social
are the same : it is this feeling to which Shakspere
OM THE TEHWEST. 29
alludes, when the old courtier, Polonius, tells
his son,
This, above all, to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night, the day,
Thou cartst not then be false to any man.
Yet, notwithstanding this praise, so justly ex-
tended to our bard, regarding his character, as a
moralist, we have authors, of the present day,
enjoying a high distinction in letters, gravely
telling us, that Shakspere, in his writings, fre-
quently sacrifices virtue to convenience, and that,
in the plots of his plays, he generally keeps no
moral purpose in view; — a fault, they say, the bar-
barity of the age cannot extenuate ( 9 ). If Shakspere
do not allow the design of his plots, to be frus-
trated, by the connexion of moral relation, the
evil that results from vice, is however, not dis-
regarded, though the denouement of his plots, bring-
about no studied moral ; his delineations of life,
are congenial to nature ; he describes the events
of human action, agreeable to the history, from
which he forms his dramas, and, therefore, when
a virtuous character is brought forward, we uni-
versally find precepts maintained, that have a
tendency, to promote virtue ; while, on the other
hand, when vice is beheld " in its own image," in
the picture of such men as Anthonio and Sebastian,
we then see it, presented to us, as the language of
Pope, has it,
A monster of such horrid mein,
That, to be hated, needs only to be seen.
30 ON TOE TEdreSTo
The false and fastidious criticism of modern
authors, has led them into observations, connected
with the writings of Shakspere, that bespeak,
neither a correct taste, nor a generous feeling — " to
please was his chief object," and, that he paid no
attention to that retributive justice, which per-
vades all human affairs, are remarks, echoed by
these stern and frigid moralists ; a censure, truly
unmerited, and which indicates, a total ignorance
of that philosophy of mind, which guided the pen
of our immortal poet, in all his dramatic produc-
tions : it is true, amidst the excellence of moral
feeling, which is to be found in the works of
Shakspere, blemishes and defects, of no ordinary
nature, exist : the age in which he lived, was noted
for its licentiousness, and if, in various passages,
the style and language of his composition, with the
gross allusions, which are occasionally to be met
with, be in accordance with the character of that
period, the consideration, that he wrote for a
people, rude and indelicate in their manners,
should disarm criticism from that severity, which
some authors, of the present day, have so un-
generously bestowed upon him. Our admiration,
for the genius of Shakspere, cannot obviate these
imperfections, but it may justify us, in the task of
vindicating him, from the imputation, of his being
of all writers of his time, " the Coryphceus of
obscenity ; " an accusation, entirely groundless,
when we know, that he had, for his cbtemporaries,
(and who, it is mournful to contemplate, were the
fellow associates of Shakspere, during his early
THE TEGlPEtT,
31
s career in London,) such unfortunate men of genius,
as the profligate and abandoned Robert Greene,
the licentious and worthless George Peele, with
the dissolute, but elegant poet, Christopher Mar-
lowe ; nay, even the learned— the classical Ben
Johnson, is not exempt, in his works, from the
vices and follies of that period ; and, with the same
feeling of justice, should have had his share of
reproof, but, as we are told, that this excellent
scholar died, full of contrition, for his manifold
transgressions, of impiety and indecency, he, for-
sooth, escapes censure, while Shakspere, having
sunk into the grave, without leaving behind him,
any record of repentance, the lash of criticism is
extended to our illustrious bard, in those un-
measured terms, which all, guided by candour and
frankness, never can sanction.
In the scenes where the higher emotions of the
soul, are called into action, Shakspere is truly
grand, but he is equally powerful, when he at-
tempts to delineate those characters, which excite
the lighter feelings of merriment and humour ;
where every sentence is a laugh, " to clapping
theatres, and shouting crowds," to make, as the
poet, Blair, has it,
-E'en thick lipp'd musing Melancholy
Gather up her face into a smile
Before she is aware.
Trinculo, a jester, and Stephano, a drunken
butler, who appear in the Tempest, are characters
32 ©5^ THE TEMPEST.
of this description;— the comic humour, and ex-
cessive drollery, exhibited in the scene, where
they meet with Caliban, make us, for a time, forget
the more sombre incidents of the play ;— their wit,
their jests, and their merriment, are well given,
and afford a strong illustration, that the master-
mind of Shakspere, exceeds all other authors,
whether in portraying the sportive and pleasing
pictures of comedy, or drawing the more sublime
and imposing scenes of tragedy. Mrs. Montague,
a learned and elegant authoress, when refuting
Voltaire, in his unjust attack, upon the writings,
of our much admired bard, very truly says, " that
Voltaire has never taken into account, that Shak-
spere has written the best comedy in our language ;
that the same man should have had such variety of
talents, as to have produced Macbeth, and the
Merry Wives of Windsor, is astonishing. Where is
there an instance, among the ancients, or moderns,
of one poet writing the sublime, and pathetic, the
boldest invention of fiction, and the most just and
accurate delineation of characters, and also pos-
sessing, the vis comica, in its highest perfection?"
In the scene, to which I have alluded, Ste-
phano and Trinculo get drunk, and Caliban,
partaking deeply in their potations, each of them
become, in their own estimation, a hero, verifying
the old adage, " He that is drunk, is as great as a
king." Under these heroic impressions, they con-
spire against the life of Prospero ;— the powers of
the Magician, however, set to nought, their con-
TUE TElMltFESTc
33
spiracy, and the punishment that follows, is very
humourously alluded to, mingled as it is, with a
great deal of severity.
In Hamlet, we have a very witty expression of
the Grave Digger, regarding the character of the
English nation, and, in this droll and ludicrous
scene, where Trinculo discovers Caliban, Shakspere
takes the same opportunity of being satirical —the
facetious jester exclaims, " What have we here ? a
man or a fish. — A strange fish ; were I in England
now (as once I was), and had this fish painted, not
a holiday-fool there, but would give a piece of
silver ; there would this monster make a man, — any
strange beast there makes a man ; when they will
not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will
lay out ten to see a dead Indian." This is correctly
true ; the desire of seeing strange sights, still
strongly prevails among the EDglish people, and
which, coupled with their great credulity, give an
amusing proof, how far our unequalled bard is
right, in the delineation of their character.
Shakspere's felicity, in giving to the Muse of
Comedy, that brilliancy of wit, which will ever be
unrivalled, has been somewhat exemplified in the
scenes, just now alluded to. From the days of
the celebrated Edward Alleyn, our stage has been
adorned by the comic powers of not a few, who,
by their art, have given to the lighter characters
of the drama, that spirit and animation, which
purely belong to them ; none, however, have sur-
34 ON TUE TEMPEST,
passed, in excellence, that eminent actor of the
present day, Mr. Harley, who, in his representa-
tion of Trinculo, seems truly to be influenced
with the same inspiration, as that which guided
the genius of our great poet ;— chaste and correct,
in all his performances, Mr. Harley never oversteps
the boundaries of nature :-— in the progress of his
professional career, he has always formed a striking
contrast, to those, who, in our time, catering to the
vitiated taste of the vulgar, have gained notoriety,
by assuming, in the place of genuine comedy,
all the antic-tricks of wild grimace, and low
buffoonery.
In alluding to the excellence of Mr. Harley in
Trinculo, I cannot here omit, the manly and dig-
nified deportment exhibited by Mr. Macready,
in the character of Prospero ; the delineation of
which, was quite in accordance, with those powers,
that have justly ranked, this great actor, as the
first tragedian of the day; — Miss Helen Faucit
presented us, with a beautiful picture of Miranda,
whose interesting qualities, were pourtrayed with
a delicacy of feeling, that reflects great lustre
upon those high attainments, which hitherto
have distinguished the career of this talented and
accomplished actress ;— whilst in the mild and
gentle Ariel, by Miss P. Horton, we, for a time,
forgot the realities of life, by being transported
into all the fancies of the sweetest delusion; the
songs of Ariel were given by this chaste and
elegant performer, in a style, which enhanced to
. OM TUE TEMPEST. 35
a great degree, the wild enchantment of the
scenery ; — with this concentration of talent, com-
bined with the admirable representation of Fer-
dinand, by Mr. Anderson, with the comic humour
displayed by Mr. Bartley as Stephano, it perhaps
will be no exaggeration to say, that the play of
the Tempest, was never, at any former period,
brought forward, with more advantage, than when
it was last performed, upon the boards of Covent
Garden Theatre. While the stage is appropriated
to the real purposes of the drama, which should
always, veluti in speculum, portray the passions and
manners of life, it must ever be regarded, as the
highest intellectual amusement, which the human
mind can enjoy;— let it therefore, be held sacred
to genius ;— let not our theatres, in future, be pol-
luted, by those scenes, that lately disgraced them ;
let us protest against that base and sordid feeling,
which would ultimately convert the British stage
into an arena of wild beasts, unfitted even for the
pastime of holiday fools ; awakening to our ima-
gination, the worst days of ancient Rome, when
the people, engulphed in licentious barbarism,
preferred the brutal exhibition of gladiators, to the
more graceful and refined efforts, of those, whose
noble task was,
To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart,
To make mankind in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold.
As we advance in the play, we find Prospero
36 ©^ TOE TEtMPESTa
availing himself of the dark secrets of his magic
spells, in order to promote his ulterior views, and
we here see, with what advantage, Shakspere
brings forward, those preternatural beings, who do
not act, merely as subordinate agents, but always,
as objects, conducive to the developement of
his story ; shewing, as an elegant authoress re-
marks, that our poet has, in this respect, entered
more into theatrical propriety, than the Greek
tragedians; — the direful character, which the
superstitions of his country possessed, has also
given, to Shakspere, a greater degree of supe-
riority, over the ancient drama. In the scene
which we now enter upon, we meet again with
Alonzo, and his companions ; and, though we have
not the horror, which is inspired by the Witches
in Macbeth, performing their fearful incantations
upon the blasted heath, nor the pale and melan-
choly Ghost of Hamlet, at the midnight hour,
visiting the glimpses of the moon, making " night
hideous," by revealing a deed of murder, yet the
supernatural powers of Ariel, subject to the com-
mand of Prospero, are sufficient to create terror
and dismay to Alonzo, and his followers ; — their
ears are saluted with strange and solemn music ; —
Prospero stands invisible in the distance, while
various groupes of spirits enter, bringing in a
banquet ;— they dance about, with gentle actions of
salutations, and, inviting the king, and the rest to
eat, they depart ; — Ariel appears, and, amidst the
noise of thunder and lightning, the banquet va-
nishes Ariel informs Alonzo and his party of
Qn THE TEGlPEiTo 37
his business, and, under their fear and amaze-
ment, he bids them remember.
That you three,
From Milan, did supplant good Prospero,
Expos'd unto the sea, (which hath requit it)
Him and his innocent child : for which foul deed.
The powers delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas, and shores, — yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace.
Ling'ring perdition, shall step by step attend
You, and your ways.
In this passage, an instructive lesson is con-
veyed, and a warning held out to those, who, like
Alonzo and Anthonio, amidst the machinations of
wild ambition, and surrounded by that wealth and
power, often obtained through deeds of cruel
oppression, seldom reflect, that the unforeseen
events of human life, not unfrequently, bring
about a retribution of justice, which generally
leads to their destruction.
Prospero praises the gentle Ariel for his dex-
trous power, and says,
My high charms work,
And these, mine enemies, are all knit up
In their distractions ; they now are in my power ;
And in these fits, I leave them, whilst I visit
Young Ferdinand, (whom they suppose is drown'd)
And his and my lov'd darling.
The good and virtuous Gonzalo, though amaz'd in
beholding these frightful appearances, endeavours
38 CM THE TEQ^retTo
to amuse his companions, by telling them to be of
good cheer, for those sights, only reminded him of
the tales he had heard when a boy. Alonzo and
the others, however, are influenced by different
feelings— terror and dismay prevail— and we behold
them, suffering under all the troubles of wicked
men, driven desperate, from the recollection of
their guilt. The scene closes, with a terrific
description from Alonzo, of what he felt, through
the workings of a troubled and guilty conscience :—
O, it is monstrous ! monstrous !
Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it ;
The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
The name of Prosper.
The fourth Act opens with a most pleasing and
delightful scene, in Prospero ratifying his promises,
by giving, to Ferdinand, his beloved Miranda;—
the language, upon this occasion, is pregnant with
sentiments, of the most lovely and delicate nature,
and, as Prospero wishes to give the young couple,
a specimen of his art, we have the splendid imagina-
tion of Shakspere, called forth, in all its grandeur
and beauty. Ariel's incantation, in the scene with
Alonzo, created spectres of a fearful appearance ;
but, here we have the Magician, bestowing upon
Ferdinand and Miranda, every thing, that can
please the eye, or captivate the mind ;— the con-
ception, surpassing in beauty,
All that Poet ever feign'd, or Painter drew.
©M TUE TEMPEST- 39
To celebrate the contract of true love, the vision
displays the spirits Ceres, Juno, and Iris, who
each, in a strain of composition, distinguished for
pastoral simplicity, delicacy of feeling, and great
beauty, compliment the lovers, and extend to them,
their benedictions —
\
That they may prosperous be,
And honor'd in their issue.
This lovely scene, terminates with a graceful
dance of Nymphs, and Reapers, — the whole
vanishing on a sudden, amidst which, Prospero is
seen, under all the influence of violent passion,
leaving Ferdinand,, with his Miranda, in wonder
and amazement. Prospero takes the opportunity
of soothing Ferdinand, and repeats that well-known
beautiful passage, which, for its sublimity, has
never been excelled.
You look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd : be cheerful, sir,
Our revels now are ended : these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air ;
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ;
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind ! — We are such stuff,
As dreams are made on, and our little life,
Is rounded with a sleep.
These reflections, replete with magnificence,
40 @M TUE TEMPEST.
are the indications of a great mind ; — the emotion
of anger, which f rospero discovers towards the
termination of the vision, proceeding from the
recollection of Caliban's plot, perhaps, led him into
that train of feeling, as to look upon the insignifi-
cancy of all human affairs, in the view, which has
just now been described. It has, however, been
observed, that the plot of Caliban, was a circum-
stance, not sufficient to move a man like Prospero,
into that gust of passion, by which, he was in-
fluenced; but, Dr. Warburton, very justly remarks,
that, if we look more narrowly into the case, we
shall have reason to admire our author's wonderful
knowledge of nature. " There was," says he,
" something in it, with which great minds, are
most deeply affected, and that is the crime of
ingratitude." Prospero probably, was under the
impression, that Caliban was ungrateful, and
which, combined with the recollection of his
brother's conduct, would, very naturally, affect a
generous mind, with the most bitter anguish.
In many of his plays, Shakspere seems, not to
have studied that scenic effect, which the Greek
tragedians were passionately fond of, nor to have
relied upon the success of his dramatic skill, like
some of the moderns, to the pomp and splendour
of stage exhibition ; — his scenes are often so com-
paratively diminutive, that, in representation, the
effect is much obscured ; — it is in the closet,
however, where intellectual enjoyment is more
frequently found, by the perusal of those pages,
OM TUE TEMPEST,
41
which tell us, with what truth, our poet could
delineate the feelings and passions of the human
heart; — when we take into consideration, the cir-
cumstances under which Shakspere wrote, when
the playhouse, of his time, was little better than a
barn, without any adventitious aid, to produce, to
his unlettered audience, any thing like scenic gran-
deur, we need not wonder, that many of his plays
are deficient in these advantages ; yet, notwith-
standing those defects in dramatic arrangement,
his genius has overcome every obstacle, as we, in
the present day, have witnessed the power, by
which he was guided, when his brilliant fancy,
led him to display, what is considered, the beauty
and elegance of stage exhibition. No one, there-
fore, who has lately seen this scene of the vision,
where Ferdinand and Miranda receive the com-
plimentary adulation of the spirits, Ceres, Juno,
and Iris, but must have done homage to the un-
rivalled fame of Shakspere ; at the same time,
feeling deeply impressed, with the noble exertions
of Mr. Macready, who, in his splendid and beau-
tiful exhibition of the Tempest, has given us, a
strong proof of the excellence of his judgment, in
connection, with a classic taste, which will ever
reflect, upon him, the highest honour ;— by an
unparalleled devotion to the works of this great
poet of nature, Mr. Macready has deservedly won
the applause, and gained the esteem of his
country.
The last scene of the fourth act, brings us the
42 ©^ THE TEireST 3
re-appearance of Caliban, and his two drunken
companions; and the same drollery and comic
humour prevail, which characterize all Shakspere's
delineations of low comedy. There is, however,
an expression of Caliban's in this scene, which I
cannot omit, as I believe it has been passed over,
without notice, by the numerous commentators
upon the writings of Shakspere. Caliban, in
leading Stephano and Trinculo, to the cell of
Prospero, with the intent of murdering him, their
attention is occupied, by finding the garments,
belonging to Prospero, a prize, not to be over-
looked, by the two drunken sailors ; — Caliban,
enraged at the delay, which this circumstance
creates, reproaches his associates, and tells them,
We shall lose our time,
And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes,
With foreheads villanous low,
an observation, which seemingly has never been
adverted to, though it evidently corresponds, with
the science of Phrenology, of the present day, the
general principles of which, were well known to
the ancients ; Shakspere seems likewise to have
been aware of these principles, and to have under-
stood, what is now generally admitted, that the
capacity of intellect, in different animals, depends
upon the particular formation of the brain. The
same knowledge is also displayed by our poet, in
the play of Hamlet, where the young prince, in
speaking of the likeness of his father, uses these
words,
The front of Jove himself. ( 10 )
®M THE TEWEST, 43
The fifth, and last act, opens with Prospero
appearing in his magic robes, saying to his spirit
Ariel,—
Now does my project gather to a head,
My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and time
Goes upright with his carriage.
Prospero asks Ariel,
How's the clay ?
who replies,
On the sixth hour, at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.
Shakspere had met with much censure from the
learned Ben Johnson, and other fastidious critics
of his day, in not adhering, in his plays, to the
unity of time, in the composition of which, he
was guided by no antecedent laws ; the model of
the Grecian stage was, to him, no beacon, and,
forsaking all the established rules of Aristotle, his
wild poetic imagination, luxuriated in the regions
of nature, unfettered by the learning, either of
ancient or modern times,
Existence saw him, spurn her bounded reign,
And panting time, toil'd, after him in vain.
We have however, in the play of the Tempest, the
most strict observance, with regard to these unities,
and our author, not only here, but in other parts of
the piece, particularly alludes to this,— shewing, as
44 ON TUE TEHPESTo
a commentator, very justly observes, " that Shak-
spere, notwithstanding the satire of his contem-
poraries, could write a play, within all the strictest
laws of regularity, the fable scarcely taking up, a
greater number of hours, than are employed in the
representation."
Prospero, hearing from Ariel, that the king, and
his followers, are still prisoners,
In the lime-grove
Which weather fends his cell,
gives orders, to relieve them ; but, not before, he
exhibits some fine touches of feeling, for their
afflictions, displaying every noble and generous
sentiment, though, by their grievous wrongs, he
had been deeply injured.
The feelings of humanity are here so arTectingly
touched and the nobleness of remission upon
repentance so finely depicted, that I cannot re-
frain giving, in full, the sentiments of Prospero,
conveying to us a beautiful proof, how far the mind
of Shakspere, rising by degrees to the summit of
all human virtue, exceeds, in moral feeling, any
thing which is to be found in ancient or modern
times.
Ariel says to Prospero,
The king,
His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted
And the remainder mourning over them
am THE TEdrcSTc 45
Brimful of sorrow and dismay ; but chiefly
Him that you termed the good old lord Gonzalo ;
His tears run down his beard like winter drops
From eaves of reeds : your charms so strongly works them
That if you now behold them, your affections
Would become tender.
Prospero. Dost thou think so, Spirit ?
Ariel. Mine would, sir, were I human.
Prospero. And mine shall.
Hast thou which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions? and shall not myself
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
Passioned as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the
quick ;
Yet with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury
Do I take part. The rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further.
The accomplishment of his designs being nearly
realized, Prospero wishes to abjure his potent art,
and break those charms, which the powers of his
enchantment gave him.
I'll break, says he, my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound,
I'll drown my book.
With these intentions, Prospero introduces that
remarkable speech, commencing,
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ;
which, from its allusion to the popular stories
concerning the power of magicians, conveys to
46 ©^ TC^E TEMPEST,
us, a very high idea of Shakspere's knowledge of
the enchantments, which prevailed among the
ancients: — this speech, besides possessing great
poetical beauty, has given rise to much observa-
tion, regarding the learning of Shakspere. In my
remarks upon the play of the Merchant of Venice,
when alluding to this subject, I was then disposed
to believe, from the style and idiom of Shakspere's
writings, that he had an intimate acquaintance,
with the Latin, and had studied closely, the
peculiar construction of that language ; various
passages, in the Tempest, prove his knowledge of
the poetry of Virgil and Ovid ; Mr. Holt affirming,
that the beginning of the speech, above alluded to,
is nearly copied from the last mentioned poet ; —
the original lines are,
Auroeque, & venti, montesque, amnesque, lacusque,
Diique omnes nemorum, diique omnes noctis adeste.
This opinion of Mr. Holt is supported by Mr. Pope,
and a host of other authors, the latest of whom,
in our day, is the learned and ingenious Dr.
Macginn, who, in an article, which appeared
lately in Fraser's Magazine, displays much clas-
sical erudition, in behalf of the scholastic learning
of Shakspere ; — volumes, however, have been
written, with an attempt to prove our author's
entire ignorance of the ancient classics, and that
he derived his acquaintance with the originals,
through translations alone : amongst the number
of those, who contend that Shakspere had never
perused the Latin authors, and that his knowledge
TOE TEQilPEiT,
47
of Roman events was only obtained through books,
then translated into English, are to be found the
names of Suckling, Denham, Dryden, the cele-
brated Dr. Johnson, and more lately the author of
that excellent piece of biography, in the second
volume of the Cabinet Cyclopaedia, conducted by
the Rev. Dionysius Lardner, a work, which,
though adverse to the question of Shakspere being
a learned scholar, nevertheless throws more light,
in a condensed form, upon the history of our illus-
trious bard, than any production, which has yet
appeared.
We have now arrived at the denouement, of this
beautiful drama, which conveys to our view, a
scene of the most pleasing and agreeable kind ;
Prospero, with a mind, endowed by all those high
and exalted qualities, which render man, in the
possession of such attributes, a being truly mag-
nificent, draws from us every feeling of admira-
tion ; — we see in his character, the human heart
influenced by every virtuous and noble sentiment ;
but, when we behold the opposite picture, in the
base treachery of Alonzo and his companions, we
lament, that such degeneracy, should be found, so
prevalent amongst mankind : there is virtue, in the
world, but, alas ! vice has ever had the predomi-
nance, and to find out truly the cause of such
moral evil, has, as yet, baffled the enquiries of
philosophy ;— there is one consideration, however,
which should not be overlooked ;— man never yet
has enjoyed in states, which are called civilized, the
48 ©M THE TEH!PEST Q
full extent of those advantages, that Nature has
given to him ; the powers of his intellect crippled,
and the qualities of his heart obscured, by false
and narrow views of education, he has been, in
all ages, the victim of corrupt prejudice, combined
with low and selfish ignorance, which have greatly
been the means of perpetuating those wars, intes-
tine broils, and bitter malignant passions, that
have sullied and disgraced his character.
The magic charms of Prospero being about to
dissolve, the spirit Ariel re-enters, bringing with
him Alonzo, attended by Gonzalo ;— Sebastian
and Anthonio, are also seen, accompanied by
Adrian and Francisco : they all enter a circle,
which Prospero had made, and here Prospero
takes the opportunity of paying, to the good
Gonzalo, that tribute of praise, which his virtues
demanded. To Alonzo and Sebastian, he offers
the most severe reproaches for their cruelty to
him, and his daughter ; while to Anthonio, his
brother, who had, from his mind, expelled remorse
and nature, he nobly says,
I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art.
Unable still, however, to discover Prospero,
with amazement, they stand, in their guilty con-
dition. Ariel is told by the Magician, to bring
from his cell, his hat and rapier, and bidding the
spirit quickly visit the king's ship, and bring with
him the Mariners, with the Master and Boat-
OM THE TE»EST a 49
swain, to his presence, Prospero stands before
them, undisguised in his true character of the
Duke of Milan !
Embracing his noble friend Gonzalo, Prospero
bids him and his company, a hearty welcome,
whilst Alonzo, under all the feelings of wonder
and astonishment, implores pardon, and resigns
the dukedom— ( n ) Anthonio and Sebastian are
reminded of their treachery ; —amidst the troubles
and perplexities of these events, Alonzo seeks
from Prospero the particulars of his preservation,
how he came to the island, and begs some tidings
of his dear son Ferdinand, — Prospero replies,
Tis not a chronicle of a day,
Nor a relation for a breakfast,
Befitting this first meeting.
and invites Alonzo to the entrance of the cell,
where Ferdinand and Miranda are seen playing
at chess— the scene becomes deeply interesting,
Alonzo discovers his son, whilst Miranda, pleased
and amazed, exclaims—
O ! wonder !
How many goodly creatures are there here !
How beauteous mankind is ! O, brave new world
That has such people in't !
Ferdinand tells his father, that the lovely maid is
his, and daughter
To the famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom, so oft, he had heard renown.
50 ©^ the TEMPEST*
Gonzalo invokes the blessings of the Gods upon the
happy couple, and Alonzo, in his extacy, says,
Give me your hands,
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart,
That doth not wish you joy.
Ariel re-enters with the Master and Boatswain,
who relate the safe condition of the ship,
Which but three glasses since,
They saw wreck'd.
Prospero bids Alonzo not infest his mind, with the
strangeness of this eventful story, as he assures
him, he shall shortly resolve unto him, all its
accidents ;— Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo ap-
pear with their stolen apparel, which, amidst the
gravity of the scene, creates much merriment.
Prospero, with his usual generosity, pardons
them, and then, addressing himself to Alonzo,
invites him and his train,
To his poor cell
To take their rest for the night,
assuring them that in the morn,
He'll bring them
To their ship, and so to Naples.
To see the nuptials,
Of these our dear belov'd solemniz'd,
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought, shall be my grave.
The mild and gentle Ariel, is dismissed to the
elements to be free; and this interesting;' scene,
TOE TEiUIPESTo 51
closes, by Prospero, promising, " calm seas, and
auspicious gales ; so, that all may reach in safety,
their destination.
Though some cold and fastidious critics, have
found fault with this play, and have considered it,
altogether, a meagre production, I, setting aside,
the censure of such false criticism, must offer my
tribute of praise, in looking upon it, as. the most
perfect of all our poet's productions ;— being
amongst the latest of his efforts, the powers of his
great and intellectual mind, seem to have been here
condensed, so as to give to mankind, a work, which
time will never destroy ; for, whether, we con-
template, the moral of the tale, — the beauty of
the composition, — the lofty and exalted sentiment,
— the deep display of human action, in combina-
tion, with the knowledge so agreeably related,
concerning the popular stories of superstition,
both ancient and modern, it will ever be regarded
as an imperishable monument, of Shakspere's
fertile, sublime, and original genius.
FINIS.
APPENDIX
Note 1, Page §.
Shakspere, in Macbeth's address, to the Ghost of the
murdered Banquo, gives a strong illustration, how far
the mind of man, endowed with great courage, may be
altogether subdued, under the belief of supernatural
agency, though at the same time, it is here imagined,
that the terrible object, which the ambitious tyrant saw,
inspired him with that horror, which a sense of his crimes
awakened ; —
What man dare, I dare.
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or 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 evade it, then protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, terrible shadow ;
Unreal, Mockery, hence !
54 APPEa
Superstition, which has often destroyed the energies of
the bravest soldier, has also swamped, and laid waste, the
human mind, even amidst the calm and peaceful inquiries
of philosophy ; — the false and erroneous views of religion,
which superstition has engendered, impeded, in a lament-
able degree, in former times, the progress of science ; —
Tycho Brahe, distinguished for his glorious discoveries
in Astronomy, was deterred from the further pursuit of his
studies, by unhappily imagining, that to persevere with
them, he would be guilty of impiety, towards the Deity ;
and Swammerdam, the celebrated Butch anatomist, in an
evil moment, when under the same fanatical influence,
committed to the flames, the records of years, which, it
is said, has deprived the science of anatomy, of many
facts, connected with the physiology of man, that his
laborious investigations had discovered.
Note 2, Page 6.
Mr. Walpole observes, that " there is not the least
suspicion, that the folio, under the name of James L, is
not of his own composition, for, though Roger Ascham
may have corrected or assisted periods of his illustrious
pupil, no body can imagine, that Buchanan dictated a
word of the Demonologia, or of the polite treatise, entitled
' A Counterblast to Tobacco.' Quotations, puns, witti-
cisms, superstition, oaths, vanity, prerogative, and pe-
dantry, the ingredients of all his sacred majesty's per-
formances, were the pure produce of his own capacity,
and deserving all the incense offered to such immense
erudition, by the divines of his age, and the flatterers of
his court." The folio, Mr. Walpole alludes to, consists
of several tracts, and which contain an attempt to prove,
that monarchs have a right to be absolute and independent
AtpreawnXo 55
of their subjects ; on the heinous sin of taking tobacco ;
on witchcraft, &c, &c.
Note 3, Page 6.
See the collection of criminal trials for Scotland, pub.
lished at Edinburgh, by the celebrated Hugo Arnot.
Note 4, Page 8.
" The Tempest, one of the most splendid efforts of
human genius, was doubtless founded on some Italian
novel, though that novel has eluded the research of the
most diligent commentators. Some of the thoughts
appear to have been taken from Greene's Alphonsus, and
certainly the names of some among the characters are
derived from other sources. But how insignificant the
aggregate of all, compared with the noble work which
Shakspere has left us ! There is more invention in this
piece, than in any other of his dramas." — Dr. Lardner's
Cabinet Cyclopaedia, 2 vol Biography.
Note 5, Page 17.
The red-plague, here alluded to by Caliban, lias been
by Steevens, and other commentators, considered the
Erisepelas, a supposition, perhaps, altogether erroneous ;
as this disease seldom prevails in the form of an epidemic,
and is always confined to a local part of the system. In
all probability, the red-plague was that species of scarla-
tina, (scarlet fever) now classified, by nosologists, under
the term cynanche maligna, a disease, which was never
56 APPEITODC.
well understood, among medical writers, till the middle of
last century, when Dr. Fothergill first gave an accurate
description of it. About the period (1748) when this
excellent physician directed his attention to cynanche
maligna, it prevailed to a great extent in London, as an
epidemic, and proved fatal to many; among the number,
were a portion of the family of the Duke of Newcastle, a
circumstance, which gave to the disease, at that time, the
term of the Pelham sore throat.
Note 6, Page 23.
This state of equality is, in our day, advocated by an
extensive body in this country, who are denominated
socialists ; — their doctrines are very widely promulgated,
and have lately gained much notoriety, from the circum-
stance, of Mr. Robert Owen, their great leader, having
been introduced to the Queen, through the auspices of
Lord Melbourne ■; such a distinction conferred upon the
Coryphoeus of this new system, has led some to consider,
that his opinions have, indirectly, met with the sanction
of royalty, while his schemes, being apparently patronized,
by the prime mimister of her Majesty's whig cabinet,
joined to the recollection, that they were confidentially
approved of, by the late Sir Robert Peel, Bart., as also
the Duke of Kent, and other distinguished individuals,
have given an impetus, and importance, to the principles
of the New Moral World, that have produced no small
degree of excitement, through all classes of society. The
bench of spiritual peers, in this state of affairs, have
become alarmed ; — and, under the dread which, it is said,
these humble disciples of the primitive doctrines of
Christianity experience, of losing hold of the revenues of
a church, more rich and powerful, than all the other
APPENDIX. 57
ecclesiastical establishments in Europe, the jmous Henry
Phillpotts, Bishop of Exeter, has very strenuously called
upon the legislature, to check the progress of socialism ; —
denouncing its tenets as blasphemous and immoral; amidst
such conflicting events, the calm observer, can only come
to the conclusion — we live in strange times !
Note 7, Page 27.
In the edition of the works of Shakspere, printed at
Edinburgh, 1769, the following observations are made on
" The Winter's Tale," when alluding to Polixenes, King
of Bithynia.
The country here called Bithynia hath, in former editions, been
printed Bohemia, an inland kingdom, situated nearly in the cenlre of
Europe; whereas many of the great incidents of the play turn upon its
being a maritime country, of which Polixenes was the king. This is a
blunder, and an absurdity, of which Shakspere in justice ought not to be
thought capable : and as he hath turn'd quite anew, the story contained
in the old paltry book of Dorastus and Faunia, [the book from which
Shakspere is supposed to have taken the plot] changing most of the
main circumstances, and all the names of the persons ; it is probable he
removed the impropriety, and placed the scene in Bithynia, which the
ignorance and negligence of the first transcribers, or printers, might
corrupt, and bring back again to Bohemia, by a less variation, in the
letters, than they have been guilty of in numberless other places of this
work.
Note 8, Page 27.
The first collection of Shakspere's plays was published,
in 1623, seven years after the period of his death ; — Pro
fessor Porson and Mr. Upcott, however, in their exam-
ination of this edition, found three hundred and forty-
seven literal mistakes.
58 APPENDIX.
Note 9, Page 29.
See various remarks, on the morality of Shakspere, in
the Biography of early dramatic authors, volume 2nd of
Dr. Lardner's Cyclopedia.
Note 10, Page 42.
An author, more than a century ago, commenting upon
these words, " The front of Jove himself," says, that they
are an allusion to the description of Phidias' Jupiter from
Homer, a circumstance which proves that phrenology was
known to the ancient sculptors, and which has not been
overlooked by Shakspere.
Note 11, Page 49.
" Thy dukedom I resign." — The duchy of Milan being,
through the treachery of Anthonio, made feudatory to the
crown of Naples, Alonzo promises to resign his claim of
sovereignty for the future. — Steevens.
I. FJELLOWES, PRINTER, 36, TOTTENHAM COITUS ROAD.
.
if
JAN 16 195V