the nature of the ruling passion, and observe its tendency. In the character of Macbeth, we have an instance of a very extraordinary change. In the following passages we discover the complexion and bias of his mind in its natural and unperverted state. Brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,) Like Valour's minion, carved out his passage. The particular features of his character are more accurately delineated by Lady Macbeth. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor;-and shalt be The illness should attend it. He is exhibited to us valiant, dutiful to his sovereign, mild, gentle, but ambitious without guilt. and ambitious ; Soon after, we find him false, perfidious, barbarous, and vindictive. All the principles in his con stitution seem to have undergone a violent and total change. Some appear to be altogether reduced or extirpated; others monstrously overgrown. Ferocity is substituted instead of mildness, treasonable intention instead of a sense of duty. His ambition, however, has suffered no diminution: on the contrary, by having become exceedingly powerful, and by rising to undue pretensions, it seems to have vanquished and suppressed every amiable and virtuous principle. But, in a conflict so important. and where the opposing powers were naturally vigorous, and invested with high authority, violent must have been the struggle, and obstinate the resistance. Nor could the prevailing passion have been enabled to contend with. virtue, without having gained, at some former period, an unlawful ascendency. Therefore, in treating the history of this revolution, we shall consider how the usurping principle became so powerful; how its powers were exerted in its conflict with opposing principles; and what were the consequences of its victory. I.-The growth of Macbeth's ambition was so imperceptible, and his treason so unexpected, that the historians of an ignorant age, little accustomed to explain uncommon events by simple causes, and strongly addicted to a superstitious belief in sorcery, ascribed them to præternatural agency. Shakespeare, capable of exalting this fiction, and of rendering it interesting, by his power over the "terrible graces," has adopted it in its full extent. In this part, therefore, having little assistance from the poet, we shall hazard a conjecture, supported by some facts and observations, concerning the power of fancy, aided by partial gratification, to invigorate and inflame our passions. All men, who possess the seeds of violent passions, will often be conscious of their influence, before they have opportunities of indulging them. By nature provident, and prone to reflection, we look forward with eagerness into futurity, and anticipate our enjoyments. Never completely satisfied with our present condition, we embrace in imagination the happiness that is to come. But happiness is relative to constitution; it depends on the gratification of our desires; and the happiness of mankind is various, because the desires of the heart are various. The nature, therefore, of anticipated enjoyment is agreeable to the nature of our desires. Men of indolent dispositions, and addicted to pleasure, indulge themselves in dreams of festivity. Those, again, who have in their constitution the latent principles of avarice, administer to the gratification of their fatal propensity, by reveries of ideal opulence. Dignity, parade, and magnificence, are ever present to the ambitious man: laurels, if he pursue literary fame: battles and conquest, if his genius be warlike. Whoever will cultivate an acquaintance with himself, and would know to what passions he is most exposed, should attend to the operations of fancy, and by remarking the objects she with greatest pleasure exhibits, he may discern, with tolerable accuracy, the nature of his own mind, and the principles most likely to rule him. Excursions of the imagination, except in minds idly extravagant, are commonly governed by the probability of success. They are also regulated by moral considerations*; for no man indulging visions of ideal felicity, embrues his hands in the blood of the guiltless, or suffers himself in imagination to be unjust or perfidious. Yet, by this imaginary indulgence, harmless as it may appear, our passions become immoderate. This is manifest from the following observations. When the mind is agitated by violent passions, the thoughts presented to us are of a corresponding character. The angry man thinks of injury, perfidy, or insult. Under the influences of fear, we figure to ourselves dangers that have no reality, and tremble without a cause+. Minds, differently fash * See Hutcheson on the origin of our ideas of beauty and harmony. + Vitas hinnuleo me similis, Chloë, Quaerenti pavidam montibus aviis Matrem, non sine vano Aurarum, et silvae metu. Nam seu mobilibus vitis inhorruit Ad ventum foliis, seu virides rubum Et corde et genibus tremit. HOR. |