ce, by the awful
character of Othello; for such he seems to us to be designed to be. He
appears never as a lover, but at once as a husband: and the relation of
his love made dignified, as it is a husband's justification of his
marriage, is also dignified, as it is a soldier's relation of his stern
and perilous life. His love itself, as long as it is happy, is perfectly
calm and serene--the protecting tenderness of a husband. It is not till
it is disordered, that it appears as a passion: then is shown a power in
contention with itself--a mighty being struck with death, and bringing
up from all the depths of life convulsions and agonies. It is no
exhibition of the power of the passion of love, but of the passion of
life, vitally wounded, and self over-mastering. If Desdemona had been
really guilty, the greatness would have been destroyed, because his love
would have been unworthy, false. But she is good, and his love is most
perfect, just, and good. That a man should place his perfect love on a
wretched thing, is miserably debasing, and shocking to thought; but that
loving perfectly and well, he should by hellish human circumvention be
brought to distrust and dread, and abjure his own perfect love, is most
mournful indeed--it is the infirmity of our good nature wrestling in
vain with the strong powers of evil. Moreover, he would, had Desdemona
been false, have been the mere victim of fate; whereas he is now in a
manner his own victim. His happy love was heroic tenderness; his injured
love is terrible passion, and disordered power, engendered within itself
to its own destruction, is the height of all tragedy.

"The character of Othello is perhaps the most greatly drawn, the most
heroic of any of Shakspeare's actors; but it is, perhaps, that one also
of which his reader last acquires the intelligence. The intellectual and
warlike energy of his mind--his tenderness of affection--his loftiness
of spirit--his frank, generous magnanimity--impetuosity like a
thunderbolt--and that dark, fierce flood of boiling passion, polluting
even his imagination,--compose a character entirely original, most
difficult to delineate, but perfectly delineated."

Emilia in this play is a perfect portrait from common life, a
masterpiece in the Flemish style: and though not necessary as a
contrast, it cannot be but that the thorough vulgarity, the loose
principles of this plebeian woman, united to a high degree of spirit,
energetic feeling, strong