forgotten, or forgiven, in the whole course of the play. Our judgment is
not bewildered, nor our moral feeling insulted, by the sentimental
jumble of great crimes and dazzling virtues, after the fashion of the
German school and of some admirable writers of our own time. Lady
Macbeth's amazing power of intellect, her inexorable determination of
purpose, her superhuman strength of nerve, render her as fearful in
herself as her deeds are hateful; yet she is not a mere monster of
depravity, with whom we have nothing in common, nor a meteor whose
destroying path we watch in ignorant affright and amaze. She is a
terrible impersonation of evil passions and mighty powers, never so far
removed from our own nature as to be cast beyond the pale of our
sympathies; for the woman herself remains a woman to the last--still
linked with her sex and with humanity.

This impression is produced partly by the essential truth in the
conception of the character, and partly by the manner in which it is
evolved; by a combination of minute and delicate touches, in some
instances by speech, in others by silence: at one time by what is
revealed, at another by what we are left to infer. As in real life, we
perceive distinctions in character we cannot always explain, and receive
impressions for which we cannot always account, without going back to
the beginning of an acquaintance, and recalling many and trifling
circumstances--looks, and tones, and words: thus, to explain that hold
which Lady Macbeth, in the midst of all her atrocities, still keeps upon
our feelings, it is necessary to trace minutely the action of the play,
as far as she is concerned in it, from its very commencement to its
close.

We must bear in mind, that the first idea of murdering Duncan is not
suggested by Lady Macbeth to her husband: it springs within _his_ mind,
and is revealed to us, before his first interview with his wife,--before
she is introduced or even alluded to.

MACBETH.

This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor--
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature?

It will be said, that the same "horrid suggestion" presents itself
spontaneously to her, on the reception