The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1825-10-06 00:00:00

enejor that: and he struggles against the lowness of spirits
winch he feels, but cannot account fur, by calling for a
bowl of wine. anti applying to business. Instead of giving
way to it in hims if, lie attends to every symptom of de-
jection in other., and endeavours to dispel diem. lie
asks, "My Lord of Suety, why look yotr so sad ?"
Lie enquires,
"Saw'st thou the mstancholy Lord Northumberland?"
and is satisfied upon being told that he and Surrey were
busied in, cheering nyi the soldiers . IL: adverts to every
circumstance which can dishearten or encourage his et-
teadants or his troops, and observes upon them accord-
ingly. When he perceives the gloominess of the morn-
ing, and that the Still might probably not be seen that
day, his observation is,
" Not shine to-day ? why, what is that to me
More Mao to Riclitnord ? fur the self-same heaven
That truisms on me, looks sadly upon him."
He takes notice of the superiority of his number; be
i points out the circumstance that,
—." The King's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want."
I He represents the encml as a troop only of banditti;
he urges the inexperience of Richmond: and he animates
his soldiers with their
" Ancient word of courage, fair Sr. George,"
' the effect of which he had before intimated to the Duke
of Norfolk; when, having explained to him the disposi-
tion he intended, he asks him,
" This, and St. Gorge to boot! what thlnk'st thou Norfolk ?"
Re deliberately, and after having survey'd the vantage of 1
the ground, forms that disposition by himself ; for which
purpose he calls for ink and paper; and being informed that
it is ready, directs Isis guard to watch, and his attendants
to leave him ; but, before be retires. he issues the neces-
sary orders. They are net, like those of Macbeth, general
and violent, but temperate and particular; delivered
coolly, and distinctly given to different persons. To the
,Duke of Norfolk lie trusts the mounting of the guard
Wing the night, and bids him he ready himself early
In the morning. Ile directs Catesby to
" Send cut a pursuivant at arms
To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
Before sun-rising."
Ile bids his modal servants
"Saddle white Surry for the field to-morrow;
book that my staves be found, and not too heavy."
And instead of hastily potting on, and as hastily pulling
.off his armour, he quietly asks,
" What, is my beaver easier than it was ?
And all my ermour laid into my ten; ?"
directing them to come about midnight to help to arm him.
He is attentive to every circumstance preparatory to the
battle ; and preserves throughout a calmness and presence
of mind which denote his intrepidity. He does not lose it
upon being tole', that the foe vaunts in the field ; but re-
collecting the orders he had given over night, now calls for
the execution of them, by directieg Lord Stanley to be
sent for, and his own horse to be caparisoned. Ile tells
the Duke of Norfolk, who is next in command to him-
self, the disposition he had formed ; and every thing being
in readiness, lie then makes a speech to encourage his
soldiers: but on hearing the enemy's drum, he concludes
with,
" Fight, gentlemen of England ! fight, bold yeomen !
Daly, archers, draw your arrows to the head !
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood ;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves !"
But even in this sally of ardour he is not hurried away by
a blind impetuosity, but still gives orders, anti distinguishes
the persons to whom lie addresses them. From this mo-
ment he is all on 6re ; and possessed entirely - with the
the great objects around him, others of lesser note are be-
low his attention. Swelling himself with coutage, and
inspiring his troops with confidence of victory, he ruibes
on the enemy. It is not a formed sense of honour, nor a
cold fear of disgrace, which impels him to fight; but a
natural high spirit and bravery, exulting in danger ; and
being sensible that the competition is only personal between
him and Itichroond, he directs all his efforts to the destruc-
tion of his rival ; endeavours himself to single -him out,
mid arcking hint is the throat ("death, ads his own life upon,
the cast. Five times foiled in his aim, unhorsed, and sur-
rounded with foes, he still persists to stand the hazard e
the.dis ; and having exacted more wonders than a mask
loses his life in an attempt so worthy of himself. •'• * •
Thus, from the beginning of their history to their last
moments, are the characters of Macbeth and Richard pre-
served entire and distinct: and though probably Shak-
speare, when he was drawing the one, had no attention to
the other, yet, as lie conceived them to be widely different,
expressed his conceptions exactly, and copied both from
'nature, they necessarily b-came contrasts to each other;
and, by seeing them together, that contrast is more appa-
rent, espccially.where the compatison is not between oppo-
site qualities, but arises from the different degrees, or from
a particular display, or total omission, of the same quality.
This last rust often happen, as the character of Macbeth
is much more complicated than that of Richard ; and,
therefore, when they are set in opposition, the judment
of the poet shows itself as much in what he has left out of
the latter as in what he has inserted. The picture of Mac-
beth is also, for the same reason, much the more highly
finished of the two; for it required a greater variety, and
a greater delicacy of painting, to express and to blend with
consistency all the several properties which are ascribed to
him. That of Richard is marked by more careless strokes,
but they are, notwithstanding, perfectly just. Much bad
composition may indeed be found in the part; it is a fault
horn which the best of Shakspeare's plays are not exempt,
and with which this play particularly abouhda ; and the
taste of the age in which he wrote, though it may afford
some excuse, yet cannot entirely vindicate the exception-
able passages. After every reasonable allowance, they
must still remain blemishes ever to be lamented ' • but lisp-
-soil'', for the mos. part they only obscure, they elo not dis-
figure his draughts from nature. 'Through whole speeches
and scenes, character is often wanting ; but in the worst
Instances of this kind, Shakspeare is but insipid ; lie is not
Inconsistent, and in his peculiar excellence of drawing cha-
racters, though he often neglects to exert his talents, he is
-sets rarely guilty of perverting thetn.—Retirin les on some
"ilf the Characters of S 1 aka peace.