ballast to preserve his life in such troublous times. Closely connected with Gloster, the latter thoroughly knows and understands his character, and consequently despises him. He carefully enmeshes the butterfly lord, and by a master stroke of policy obtaineth his condemnation and death. There is nought criminal in the character of Hastings, for he fully resolves to stand by the late king's

"heirs in true descent,"

And will not give his "voice on Richard's side,
God knows I will not do it, to the death."

The overweening confidence of Hastings prevents him from escaping the fate he otherwise might have avoided. He possesses not the power to understand the character of Gloster, for he firmly believes

"there's never a man in Christendom

That can less hide his love or hate than he!

For by his face, straight shall you know his heart;"

and he perceives not the intensity of dissimulation which marks Gloster's character. Hastings is more in love with life when nearer death, than in any other period of his existence. He says, in reply to Stanley, "My lord,

I hold my life as dear as you do yours;
And never in my life, I do protest,

Was it more precious to me than 'tis now:
Think you, but that I know our state secure,

I would be so triumphant as I am.”—A. III., S. 2.

This self-joyousness and exaltation leads him to disregard the warnings he receives, and to place implicit confidence in his friend Catesby, who brings about his utter ruin. He does not heed the words of Stanley, who

"did dream the boar did raze his helm,"

but on the other hand, he did disdain "it and did scorn to fly" until it is too late, and he quits the scene lamenting his own folly which led him to believe in the "momentary grace of mortal men;" and, he is led to the block to meet the same doom as had already fallen on the heads of Rivers, Grey and Vaughan, who all

"at Pomfret, bloodily were butcher'd."

The remainder of the third act is occupied with the coquettings of Buckingham and Gloster with the lord mayor and citizens of London. The latter are so practised on and deceived by the assumed humility and the external show of piety which Gloster displays, that they proffer and beg his acceptance of the crown. This, he at first refuses, but on their warmly entreating him a second time, Gloster reluctantly assents to have fortune buckled to his back, "to bear her burthen.”

The character of Gloster when made king, undergoes a great change. He hath lept into the seat he hath so long been sighing and playing for, and now fixed in his "coign of vantage," he no longer dissimulates; he wears no hypocritical garb, but he goes direct to his purpose. He is not to be turned aside by any compunctions of conscience from preserving the position he has attained. He will have none with him that wish to examine too closely into his desires and acts, all such he will banish from his presence, he will only hold

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converse with iron-witted fools,

And unrespective boys: none are for me

That look into me with considerate eyes."

Such as these he will have, for he can bend such to his purpose; with them there will not be any scruples relative to the acts they may be called upon to perform. Unscrupulous himself, his instruments must be of the

same character, or else things will not be as he desires. He is fully resolved on keeping the throne, nor does he shrink from any crime, however deep or deadly, to render himself secure in the royal seat. His proposal of the murder of the young princes to his friend Buckingham, is put partly as a test to that courtier, who hesitates, betrays a fear of consequences which may result from the achievement of such a deed, though he of all others has been the chief instrument by whose assistance the crafty usurper is seated on the throne. Buckingham recoils from the plain speaking of his master, when he says,

"I wish the bastards dead;

And I would have it suddenly perform'd."

He asks for time, the consequences are such that he cannot accept them at once, he would have

"some breath, some little pause, my lord,

Before I positively speak herein;

I will resolve your grace immediately.”

Richard has resolved upon the death of his nephews; it is necessary to his safety they should cease to be, and when "high-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect" and refuses to fulfil his wishes, he soon finds means to accomplish his desires. He questions his page,

"Boy!

Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold
Would tempt unto a close exploit of death?"

And, when he learns of one-"a discontented gentleman," whom gold would "no doubt tempt him to anything,"-sends for such a one at once. He will not delay, nor will he shrink from having the deed ⚫ performed. He now resolves upon the most desperate

resorts, for in conjunction with the murder of the princes, he plans the death of his queen and the marrying of his brother's daughter. He firmly believes the doing of these deeds is necessary to his safety, and that is sufficient cause for him to have them done. It behoves him so to act, for he says,

"it stands me much upon,

To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.
I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.
Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
Uncertain way of gain! But I am in

So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin."-A. iv. S. 2. Richard and Macbeth are both examples of promptitude of action, and also of resolve to do anything and everything that may be thought by them necessary for their own safety. They both plunge into crime with the same object, both are moved by ambition, both seek their self-preservation by the committal of more crime, both are imbued with the same ideas, and both give expression to the feelings by which they are moved, "For mine good,

All causes shall give way; I am in blood,

Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd."
Macbeth, A. III. s. 4.

The desire of Richard to marry his brother's daughter, is not fulfilled, for he is outwitted by her mother, Queen Elizabeth, who listens to his warm pleadings and apparently consents to grant his wish, though firmly resolved to prevent it. The cunning, crafty usurper, is here beaten by his own weapons, and he readily falls into the snare which the queen lays for

him, when she says,

"Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?

I go. Write to me very shortly,

And you shall understand from me her mind."

The whole tragedy is full of action, but more particularly so in the last act; event follows event in rapid succession, and the whole of our faculties are awakened and absorbed in the bustle and active agitation with which this act is crowded. Destiny rides upon the storm, and Richard, strong in courage and in mental power, striving to bend all things to his will, yields only to the fate, the inexorable.

The versification in this tragedy is one grand sonorous march; one constant flow without a break or impediment. The thought, passion and imagery, are in unison with each other, and the diction is most appropriate to the occasion. The hand of the master is traceable throughout the whole of the tragedy, and the wealth of his genius has been lavished upon its production. It is characterised by great ease; there is no apparent effort in its pourtrayal; everything yields to the directing influence of Shakspere's genius, which from first to last is truly astonishing.