But the part in which, according to our conception, Mr. Kean failed most, was in the third act with Othello, where comes the tug of war.' The following passage is, we think, decisive to our

Othello. Why of thy thought, Iago?

Iago. I did not think he had been acquainted with it.
Othello. O yes, and went between us very oft-

Iago. Indeed!

Othello. Indeed! Ay, indeed. Discern'st thou aught of that?

Is he not honest ?

lago. Honest, my Lord ?

Othello. Honest? Ay, honest.

Iago. My Lord, for aught I know.

Othello. What dost thou think?

Iago. Think, my Lord!

Othello. Think, my Lord! Alas, thou echo'st me,

As if there were some monster in thy thought

Too hideous to be shewn. Thou dost mean something:
I heard thee say even now, thou lik'dst not that-
When Cassio left my wife. What did'st not like ?
And when I told thee, he was of my counsel,

Of my whole course of wooing; thou criedst, indeed!
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: If thou dost love me,
Shew me thy thought.

Iago. My Lord, you know I love you.
Othello. I think thou dost :

And for I know thou 'rt full of love and honesty,

And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more :

For such things in a false disloyal knave

Are tricks of custom: but in a man that 's just,
They're cold dilations working from the heart,
Which passion cannot rule.'

Now, if there is any thing of superficial gaiety or heedlessness in this, it is not written in the bond: '-the breaks and stops, the pursing and knitting of the brow together, the deep internal working

of hypocrisy under the mask of love and honesty, escaped us on the stage. The same observation applies to what he says afterwards of himself:

Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
As I confess it is my nature's plague

Το spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not.'

The candour of this confession would hardly be extorted from him, if it did not correspond with the moody dissatisfaction, and suspicious, creeping, cat-like watchfulness of his general appearance. The anxious suspense, the deep artifice, the collected earnestness, and, if we may so say, the passion of hypocrisy, are decidedly marked in every line of the whole scene, and are worked up to a sort of paroxysm afterwards, in that inimitably characteristic apostrophe:'O Grace! O Heaven forgive me!

Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?

God be wi' you: take mine office. O wretched fool
That lov'st to make thine honesty a vice!

Oh monstrous world! take note, take note, O world!
To be direct and honest, is not safe.

I thank you for this profit, and from hence

I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence.'

This burst of hypocritical indignation might well have called forth all Mr. Kean's powers, but it did not. We might multiply passages of the same kind, if we had time.

The philosophy of the character is strikingly unfolded in the part where Iago gets the handkerchief:

This may do something.

The Moor already changes with my poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
But with a little act upon the blood,

Burn like the mines of sulphur.'

We here find him watching the success of his experiment, with the sanguine anticipation of an alchemist at the moment of projection.

'I did say so:

Look where he comes'—[Enter Othello]—Not poppy

nor mandragora,

Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst yesterday.'

Again he says:

'Work on:

My medicine works; thus credulous fools are caught,
And many worthy and chaste dames even thus
All guiltless meet reproach."

So that after all, he would persuade us that his object is only to give an instructive example of the injustice that prevails in the world.

If he is bad enough when he has business on his hands, he is still worse when his purposes are suspended, and he has only to reflect on the misery he has occasioned. His indifference when Othello falls in a trance, is perfectly diabolical, but perfectly in character:

'Iago. How is it, General? Have you not hurt your head?
Othello. Dost thou mock me?

Iago. I mock you not, by heaven,' &c.

The callous levity which Mr. Kean seems to consider as belonging to the character in general, is proper here, because Iago has no feelings connected with humanity; but he has other feelings and other passions of his own, which are not to be trifled with.

We do not, however, approve of Mr. Kean's pointing to the dead bodies after the catastrophe. It is not in the character of the part, which consists in the love of mischief, not as an end, but as a means, and when that end is attained, though he may feel no remorse, he would feel no triumph. Besides, it is not the text of Shakespear. Iago does not point to the bed, but Ludovico bids him look at it :-Look on the tragic loading of this bed,' &c.

We have already noticed that Edmund the Bastard is like an episode of the same character, placed in less difficult circumstances. Zanga is a vulgar caricature of it.

MR. KEAN'S RICHARD II.

March 19, 1815.

The Examiner. We are not in the number of those who are anxious in recommending the getting-up of Shakespear's plays in general, as a duty which our stage-managers owe equally to the author, and the reader of those wonderful compositions. The representing the very finest of them on the stage, even by the best actors, is, we apprehend, an abuse of the genius of the poet, and even in those of a second-rate class, the quantity of sentiment and imagery greatly outweighs the immediate impression of the situation and story. Not only are the more refined

poetical beauties and minuter strokes of character lost to the audience, but the most striking and impressive passages, those which having once read we can never forget, fail comparatively of their effect, except in one or two rare instances indeed. It is only the pantomime part of tragedy, the exhibition of immediate and physical distress, that which gives the greatest opportunity for inexpressible dumb-show and noise,' which is sure to tell, and tell completely on the stage. All the rest, all that appeals to our profounder feelings, to reflection and imagination, all that affects us most deeply in our closets, and in fact constitutes the glory of Shakespear, is little else than an interruption and a drag on the business of the stage. Segnius per aures demissa, &c. Those parts of the play on which the reader dwells the longest, and with the highest relish in the perusal, are hurried through in the performance, while the most trifling and exceptionable are obtruded on his notice, and occupy as much time as the most important. We do not mean to say that there is less knowledge or display of mere stage-effect in Shakespear than in other writers, but that there is a much greater knowledge and display of other things, which divide the attention with it, and to which it is not possible to give an equal force in the representation. Hence it is, that the reader of the plays of Shakespear is almost always disappointed in seeing them acted; and, for our own parts, we should never go to see them acted, if we could help it.

Shakespear has embodied his characters so very distinctly, that he stands in no need of the actor's assistance to make them more distinct; and the representation of the character on the stage almost uniformly interferes with our conception of the character itself. The only exceptions we can recollect to this observation, are Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Kean-the former of whom in one or two characters, and the latter, not certainly in any one character, but in very many passages, have raised our imagination of the part they acted. It may be asked then, why all great actors chuse characters from Shakespear to come out in; and again, why these become their favourite parts? First, it is not that they are able to exhibit their author, but that he enables them to shew themselves off. The only way in which Shakespear appears to greater advantage on the stage than common writers is, that he stimulates the faculties of the actor more. If he is a sensible man, he perceives how much he has to do, the inequalities he has to contend with, and he exerts himself accordingly; he puts himself at full speed, and lays all his resources under contribution; he attempts more, and makes a greater number of brilliant failures; he plays off all the tricks of his art to mimic the poet; he does all he can, and bad is often the best.

We

have before said that there are some few exceptions. If the genius of Shakespear does not shine out undiminished in the actor, we perceive certain effects and refractions of it in him. If the oracle does not speak quite intelligibly, yet we perceive that the priest at the altar is inspired with the god, or possessed with a demon. To speak our minds at once, we believe that in acting Shakespear there is a greater number of good things marred than in acting any other author. In fact, in going to see the plays of Shakespear, it would be ridiculous to suppose, that any one ever went to see Hamlet or Othello represented by Kean or Kemble; we go to see Kean or Kemble in Hamlet or Othello. On the contrary, Miss O'Neill and Mrs. Beverley are, we take it, one and the same person. As to the second point, viz. that Shakespear's characters are decidedly favourites on the stage in the same proportion as they are in the closet, we deny it altogether. They either do not tell so much, or very little more than many others. Mrs. Siddons was quite as great in Mrs. Beverley and Isabella as in Lady Macbeth or Queen Katherine yet no one, we apprehend, will say that the poetry is equal. It appears, therefore, not that the most intellectual characters excite most interest on the stage, but that they are objects of greater curiosity; they are nicer tests of the skill of the actor, and afford greater scope for controversy, how far the sentiment is overdone or come tardy of.' There is more in this circumstance than people in general are aware of. We have no hesitation in saying, for instance, that Miss O'Neill has more popularity in the house than Mr. Kean. It is quite as certain, that he is more thought of out of it. The reason is, that she is not food for the critics,' whereas Mr. Kean notoriously is; there is no end of the topics he affords for discussion -for praise and blame.

All that we have said of acting in general applies to his Richard II. It has been supposed that this is his finest part: this is, however, a total misrepresentation. There are only one or two electrical shocks given in it; and in many of his characters he gives a much greater number. The excellence of his acting is in proportion to the number of hits, for he has not equal truth or purity of style. Richard II. was hardly given correctly as to the general outline. Mr. Kean made it a character of passion, that is, of feeling combined with energy; whereas it is a character of pathos, that is to say, of feeling combined with weakness. This, we conceive, is the general fault of Mr. Kean's acting, that it is always energetic or nothing. He is always on full stretch-never relaxed. He expresses all the violence, the extravagance, and fierceness of the passions, but not their misgivings, their helplessness, and sinkings into despair. He has too