of virtue over vice. But how much lefs affecting are their animadverfions than the teftimony of the perfon concerned! Whatever belongs to the part of the chorus has hardly the force of dramatic imitation. The chorus is in a manner without perfonal character, or intereft, and no way an agent in the drama. We cannot fympathize with the cool reflections of thefe idle fpectators, as we do with the fentiments of the persons, in whose circumftances and fituation we are interested.

The heart of man, like iron and other metal, is hard, and of firm resistance, when cold, but, warmed, it becomes malleable and ductile. It is by touching the Paffions, and exciting sympathetic Emotions, not by Sentences, that the tragedian must make his impreffions on the fpectator. I will appeal to any perfon of tafte, whether the following speeches of Wolfey, in another play of Shakespear, the first a soliloquy, the fecond addreffed to his fervant Cromwell, in which he gives the testimony of his experience,

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rience, and the refult of his own feelings, would make the fame impreffion, if uttered by a set of speculative fages in the episode of a chorus.

WOLSEY.

So farewell to the little good you bear me !
Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness !
This is the ftate of man; to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes, to-morrow bloffoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him,
'The third day comes a froft, a killing froft,
And when he thinks, good eafy man, full furely
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root;
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders,
Thefe many fummers in a sea of glory,

But far beyond my depth; my high blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new open'd. Oh, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that fmile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and our ruin,

More

More pangs and fears than war or women have :

And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Never to hope again.

And in another place,

Let's dry our eyes, and thus far hear me, Cromwell
And when I am forgotten, as I fhali be,

And fleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me muft more be heard, fay then, I taught thee,
Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And founded all the depths and fhoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rife in ;
A fure and safe one, though thy mafter mifs'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me;
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition,
By that fin fell the angels; how can man then,
The image of his maker, hope to win by't?
Love thyself laft; cherish thofe hearts, that hate

thee;

Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right-hand carry gentle peace,

To filence envious tongues, be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends, thou aim'ft at, be thy country's,

Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'ft, O Cromwell,

Thou fall'ft a blessed martyr. Serve the king;

And pr'ythee, lead me in;

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny, 'tis the king's. My robe,
And my integrity to heav'n, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but ferv'd my God with half the zeal

I ferv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

I felect these two paffages as containing reflections of such a general kind, as might be with least impropriety transferred to the chorus; but if even these would lofe much of their force and pathos, if not spoken by the fallen statesman, how much more would those do, which are the expreffions of some instantaneous emotion, occafioned by the peculiar fituation of the perfon by whom they are uttered! The self-condemnation of a murderer makes a very deep impreffion upon us, when we are told by Macbeth himfelf, that hearing, while he was killing Duncan, one of the grooms cry God bless us, and Amen the other, he durft not say Amen. Had a formal chorus obferved, that a man in

fuch

fuch a guilty moment, durft not implore that mercy of which he ftood fo much in need, it would have had but a flight effect. All know the deteftation, with which virtuous men behold a bad action. A much more falutary admonition is given, when we are fhewn the terrors that are combined with guilt in the breast of the Offender.

Our author has fo tempered the conftitutional character of Macbeth, by infusing into it the milk of human kindness, and a strong tincture of honour, as to make the most violent perturbation, and pungent remorse, naturally attend on thofe fteps to which he is led by the force of Temptation. Here we must commend the Poet's judgment, and his invariable attention to confiftency of character; but more amazing still is the art with which he exhibits the movement of the human mind, and renders audible the filent march of thought: traces its modes of operation in the course of Deliberating, the paufes of Hefitation, and the final act of Decifion; fhews how Reason