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unfeeling favageness of this son of Sycorax, by making him enumerate, with a kind of horrible delight, the various ways in which it was possible for the drunken failorsto surprise and kill his master:

--There thou may'st brain him,
Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log
Batter his skull; or paunch him with a fake;
Or cut his wezand with thy knife.-

He adds, in allusion to his own abominable attempt, " above all, be sure to secure the daughter; whose « beauty, he tells them, is incomparable." The charms of Miranda could not be more exalted, than by extorting this teftimony from so insensible a monster.

Shakespeare seems to be the only poet who possesses the power of uniting poetry with propriety of character; of which I know not an instance more striking, than the image Calyban makes use of to express fi. lence; which is at once highly poetical, and exactly suited to the wildness of the speaker:

Pray you tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot-fall.

I always lament, that our author has not preserved this fierce and implacable spirit in Calyban to the end of the play; instead of which, he has, I think, inju. diciously put into his mouth words that imply repentance and understanding:

I'll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice double
Was I, to take this drunkard for a God,
And worship this dull fool?

It must not be forgotten, that Shakespeare has artfully taken occasion, from this extraordinary character, which is finely contrasted to the mildnefs and obedi. ence of Ariel, obliquely to satirize the prevailing palfion for new and wonderful fights, which has rendered the English fo ridiculous. “ Were I in England “ now,” says Trinculo, on first discovering Calyban, " and had but this fish painted, not an holiday fool " there but would give a piece of filver. When they “ will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they

will lay out ten to see a dead Indian."

Such is the inexhaustible plenty of our poet's invention, that he has exhibited another character in this play, entirely his own; that of the lovely and innocent Miranda.

When Prospero frit gives her a fight of prince Ferdinand, the eagerly exclaims,

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-What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about!

Believe me, Sir, It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. Her imagining, that, as he was so beautiful, he mu necessarily be one of her father's aërial agents, is a stroke of nature worthy admiration: as are likewise her intreaties to her father not to use him harshly, by the power

of his art :
Why speaks my father fo ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first
That e'er I figh'd for!

Here we perceive the beginning of that passion, which Prospero was defirous she should feel for the prince; and which the afterwards more fully expresses upon an

occasion

occasion which displays at once the tenderness, the innocence, and the fimplicity of her character. She dif. covers her lover employed in the laborious task of carrying wood, which Prospero had enjoined him to perform. “ Would,” says she, “ the lightning had “ burnt up those logs, that you are enjoined to pile!”

-If you'll fit down, I'll bear your logs the while. Pray, give me that: I'll carry't to the pile.

You look wearily.

It is by selecting such little, and almost imperceptible, circumstances, that Shakespeare has more truly painted the passions than any other writer: affection is more powerfully expressed by this simple wish and offer of assistance, than by the unnatural eloquence and witti. cisms of Dryden, or the amorous declamations of Rowe.

The resentment of Prospero, for the matchless cru. elty and wicked usurpation of his brother,_his parental affection and folicitude for the welfare of his daughter, the heiress of his dukedom, -and the awful folemnity of his character, as a skilful magician,--are all along preserved with equal consistency, dignity, and decorum..One part of his behaviour deserves to be particularly pointed out. During the exhibition of a malk with which he had ordered Ariel to entertain Ferdinand and Miranda, he starts fuddenly from the recollection of the conspiracy of Calyban, and his confederates, against his life, and dismisses his attendant fpirits, who instantly vanish to a hollow and confused noise. He appears to be greatly moved; and luitably to this agitation of mind, which his danger has excited, Vol. III, I

he

he takes occasion, from the sudden disappearance of the visionary scene, to moralize on the diffolution of all things:

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 folemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall diffolve;
And, like this unsubftantial pageant faded,

Leave not a wreck behind. To these noble images he adds a short but comprehenfive observation on human life, not excelled by any paffage of the moral and sententious Euripides:

-We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a fleep!

Thus admirably is an uniformity of character, that leading beauty in dramatic poefy, proserved throughout the tempeft. And it may be farther remarked, that the unities of action, of place, and of time, are in this play, though almost constantly violated by Shake. {peare, exactly observed. The action is one, great, and entire, the restoration of Prospero to his dukedom : this business is transacted in the compass of a small island, and in or near the cave of Profpero; though, indeed, it had been more artful and regular, to have confined it to this single spot: and the time which the action takes up, is only equal to that of the sepresentation; an excellence, which ought always to

be

be aimed at in every well-conducted fable; and for the want of which, a variety of the most entertaining incidents can scarcely atone.

2.

No. XCVIII. Saturday, October 13. 1753.

Aude aliquid brevibus Gyaris, et carcere dignum,
Si vis ele aliquis.

Jovi

Would'At thou to honours and preferments climb ?
Be bold in mischief; dare some mighty crime,
Which dungeons, death, or banishment, deserves.

DRYDEN,

To the ADVENTURER.

DEAR BROTHER,

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The thirst of glory is, I think, allowed, even by the dull dogs who can fit Aill long enough to write books, to be a noble appetite.

My ambition is to be thought a man of life and fpirit ; who could conquer the world, if he was to set about it; but who has too much vivacity to give the neceffary attention to any scheme of length.

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