s　　of　defiance；　the　last　combat　is　little　better　than　a　suicide。
  The　whole　performance　is；　as　I　said；　so　full　of　gusto　and　a　　headlong　unity；　the　personality　of　Macbeth　is　so　sharp　and　　powerful；　and　within　these　somewhat　narrow　limits　there　is　so　　much　play　and　saliency　that；　so　far　as　concerns　Salvini　　himself；　a　third　great　success　seems　indubitable。　　　Unfortunately；　however；　a　great　actor　cannot　fill　more　than　a　　very　small　fraction　of　the　boards；　and　though　Banquo's　ghost　　will　probably　be　more　seasonable　in　his　future　apparitions；　　there　are　some　more　inherent　difficulties　in　the　piece。　　The　　company　at　large　did　not　distinguish　themselves。　　Macduff；　to　　the　huge　delight　of　the　gallery；　out…Macduff'd　the　average　　ranter。　　The　lady　who　filled　the　principal　female　part　has　　done　better　on　other　occasions；　but　I　fear　she　has　not　metal　　for　what　she　tried　last　week。　　Not　to　succeed　in　the　sleep…　walking　scene　is　to　make　a　memorable　failure。　　As　it　was　　given；　it　succeeded　in　being　wrong　in　art　without　being　true　　to　nature。
  And　there　is　yet　another　difficulty；　happily　easy　to　reform；　　which　somewhat　interfered　with　the　success　of　the　　performance。　　At　the　end　of　the　incantation　scene　the　Italian　　translator　has　made　Macbeth　fall　insensible　upon　the　stage。　　　This　is　a　change　of　questionable　propriety　from　a　　psychological　point　of　view；　while　in　point　of　view　of　effect　　it　leaves　the　stage　for　some　moments　empty　of　all　business。　　　To　remedy　this；　a　bevy　of　green　ballet…girls　came　forth　and　　pointed　their　toes　about　the　prostrate　king。　　A　dance　of　High　　Church　curates；　or　a　hornpipe　by　Mr。　T。　P。　Cooke；　would　not　　be　more　out　of　the　key；　though　the　gravity　of　a　Scots　　audience　was　not　to　be　overcome；　and　they　merely　expressed　　their　disapprobation　by　a　round　of　moderate　hisses；　a　similar　　irruption　of　Christmas　fairies　would　most　likely　convulse　a　　London　theatre　from　pit　to　gallery　with　inextinguishable　　laughter。　　It　is；　I　am　told；　the　Italian　tradition；　but　it　is　　one　more　honoured　in　the　breach　than　the　observance。　　With　　the　total　disappearance　of　these　damsels；　with　a　stronger　　Lady　Macbeth；　and；　if　possible；　with　some　compression　of　　those　scenes　in　which　Salvini　does　not　appear；　and　the　　spectator　is　left　at　the　mercy　of　Macduffs　and　Duncans；　the　　play　would　go　twice　as　well；　and　we　should　be　better　able　to　　follow　and　enjoy　an　admirable　work　of　dramatic　art。
  CRITICISMS　CHAPTER　III　…　BAGSTER'S　'PILGRIM'S　PROGRESS'
  I　HAVE　here　before　me　an　edition　of　the　PILGRIM'S　PROGRESS；　　bound　in　green；　without　a　date；　and　described　as　'illustrated　　by　nearly　three　hundred　engravings；　and　memoir　of　Bunyan。'　　　On　the　outside　it　is　lettered　'Bagster's　Illustrated　　Edition；'　and　after　the　author's　apology；　facing　the　first　　page　of　the　tale；　a　folding　pictorial　'Plan　of　the　Road'　is　　marked　as　'drawn　by　the　late　Mr。　T。　Conder；'　and　engraved　by　　J。　Basire。　　No　further　information　is　anywhere　vouchsafed；　　perhaps　the　publishers　had　judged　the　work　too　unimportant；　　and　we　are　still　left　ignorant　whether　or　not　we　owe　the　　woodcuts　in　the　body　of　the　volume　to　the　same　hand　that　drew　　the　plan。　　It　seems；　however；　more　than　probable。　　The　　literal　particularity　of　mind　which；　in　the　map；　laid　down　　the　flower…plots　in　the　devil's　garden；　and　carefully　　introduced　the　court…house　in　the　town　of　Vanity；　is　closely　　paralleled　in　many　of　the　cuts；　and　in　both；　the　architecture　　of　the　buildings　and　the　disposition　of　the　gardens　have　a　　kindred　and　entirely　English　air。　　Whoever　he　was；　the　author　　of　these　wonderful　little　pictures　may　lay　claim　to　be　the　　best　illustrator　of　Bunyan。　　They　are　not　only　good　　illustrations；　like　so　many　others；　but　they　are　like　so　few；　　good　illustrations　of　Bunyan。　　Their　spirit；　in　defect　and　　quality；　is　still　the　same　as　his　own。　　The　designer　also　has　　lain　down　and　dreamed　a　dream；　as　literal；　as　quaint；　and　　almost　as　apposite　as　Bunyan's；　and　text　and　pictures　make　　but　the　two　sides　of　the　same　homespun　yet　impassioned　story。　　　To　do　justice　to　the　designs；　it　will　be　necessary　to　say；　　for　the　hundredth　time；　a　word　or　two　about　the　masterpiece　　which　they　adorn。
  All　allegories　have　a　tendency　to　escape　from　the　purpose　of　　their　creators；　and　as　the　characters　and　incidents　become　　more　and　more　interesting　in　themselves；　the　moral；　which　　these　were　to　show　forth；　falls　more　and　more　into　neglect。　　　An　architect　may　command　a　wreath　of　vine…leaves　round　the　　cornice　of　a　monument；　but　if；　as　each　leaf　came　from　the　　chisel；　it　took　proper　life　and　fluttered　freely　on　the　wall；　　and　if　the　vine　grew；　and　the　building　were　hidden　over　with　　foliage　and　fruit；　the　architect　would　stand　in　much　the　same　　situation　as　the　writer　of　allegories。　　The　FAERY　QUEEN　was　　an　allegory；　I　am　willing　to　believe；　but　it　survives　as　an　　imaginative　tale　in　incomparable　verse。　　The　case　of　Bunyan　　is　widely　different；　and　yet　in　this　also　Allegory；　poor　　nymph；　although　never　quite　forgotten；　is　sometimes　rudely　　thrust　against　the　wall。　　Bunyan　was　fervently　in　earnest；　　with　'his　fingers　in　his　ears；　he　ran　on；'　straight　for　his　　mark。　　He　tells　us　himself；　in　the　conclusion　to　the　first　　part；　that　he　did　not　fear　to　raise　a　laugh；　indeed；　he　　feared　nothing；　and　said　anything；　and　he　was　greatly　served　　in　this　by　a　certain　rustic　privilege　of　his　style；　which；　　like　the　talk　of　strong　uneducated　men；　when　it　does　not　　impress　by　its　force；　still　charms　by　its　simplicity。　　The　　mere　story　and　the　allegorical　design　enjoyed　perhaps　his　　equal　favour。　　He　believed　in　both　with　an　energy　of　faith　　that　was　capable　of　moving　mountains。　　And　we　have　to　remark　　in　him；　not　the　parts　where　inspiration　fails　and　is　supplied　　by　cold　and　merely　decorative　invention；　but　the　parts　where　　faith　has　grown　to　be　credulity；　and　his　characters　become　so　　real　to　him　that　he　forgets　the　end　of　their　creation。　　We　　can　follow　him　step　by　step　into　the　trap　which　he　lays　for　　himself　by　his　own　entire　good　faith　and　triumphant　　literality　of　vision；　till　the　trap　closes　and　shuts　him　in　　an　inconsistency。　　The　allegories　of　the　Interpreter　and　of　　the　Shepherds　of　the　Delectable　Mountains　are　all　actually　　performed；　like　stage…plays；　before　the　pilgrims。　　The　son　of　　Mr。　Great…grace　visibly　'tumbles　hills　about　with　his　words。'　　　Adam　the　First　has　his　condemnation　written　visibly　on　his　　forehead；　so　that　Faithful　reads　it。　　At　the　very　instant　the　　net　closes　round　the　pilgrims；　'the　white　robe　falls　from　the　　black　man's　body。'　　Despair　'getteth　him　a　grievous　crab…tree　　cudgel'；　it　was　in　'sunshiny　weather'　that　he　had　his　fits；　　and　the　birds　in　the　grove　about　the　House　Beautiful；　'our　　country　birds；'　only　sing　their　little　pious　verses　'at　the　　spring；　when　the　flowers　appear　and　the　sun　shines　warm。'　　'I　　often；'　says　Piety；　'go　out　to　hear　them；　we　also　ofttimes　　keep　them　tame　on　our　house。'　　The　post　between　Beulah　and　　the　Celestial　City　sounds　his　horn；　as　you　may　yet　hear　in　　country　places。　　Madam　Bubble；　that　'tall；　comely　dame；　　something　of　a　swarthy　complexion；　in　very　pleasant　attire；　　but　old；'　'gives　you　a　smile　at　the　end　of　each　sentence'　…　a　　real　woman　she；　we　all　know　her。　　Christiana　dying　'gave　Mr。　　Stand…fast　a　ring；'　for　no　possible　reason　in　the　allegory；　　merely　because　the　touch　was　human　and　affecting。　　Look　at　　Great…heart；　with　his　soldierly　ways；　garrison　ways；　as　I　had　　almost　called　them；　with　his　taste　in　weapons；　his　delight　in　　any　that　'he　found　to　be　a　man　of　his　hands'；　his　chivalrous　　point　of　honour；　letting　Giant　Maul　get　up　again　when　he　was　　down；　a　thing　fairly　flying　in　the　teeth　of　the　moral；　above　　all；　with　his　language　in　the　inimitable　tale　of　Mr。　Fearing：　　'I　thought　I　should　have　lost　my　man'　…　'chicken…hearted'　…　　'at　last　he　came　in；　and　I　will　say　that　for　my　lord；　he　　carried　it　wonderful　lovingly　to　him。'　　This　is　no　　Independent　minister；　this　is　a　stout；　honest；　big…busted　　ancient；　adjusting　his　shoulder…belts；　twirling　his　long　　moustaches　as　he　speaks。　　Last　and　most　remarkable；　'My　　sword；'　says　the　dying　Valiant…for…Truth；　he　in　whom　Great…　heart　delighted；　'my　sword　I　give　to　him　that　shall　succeed　　me　in　my　pilgrimage；　AND　MY　COURAGE　AND　SKILL　TO　HIM　THAT　CAN　　GET　IT。'　　And　after　this　boast；　more　arrogantly　unorthodox　　than　was　ever　dreamed　of　by　the　rejected　Ignorance；　we　are　　told　that　'all　the　trumpets　sounded　for　him　on　the　other　　side。'
  In　every　page　the　book　is　stamped　with　the　same　energy　of　　vision　and　the　same　energy　of　belief。　　The　quality　is　equally　　and　indifferently　displayed　in　the　spirit　of　the　fighting；　　the　tenderness　of　the　pathos；　the　startling　vigour　and　　strangeness　of　the　incidents；　the　natural　strain　of　the　　conversations；　and　the　humanity　and　charm　of　the　characters。　　　Trivial　talk　over　a　meal；　the　dying　words　of　heroes；　the　　delights　of　Beulah　or　the　Celestial　City；　Apollyon　and　my　　Lord　Hate…good；　Great…heart；　and　Mr。　Worldly…Wiseman；　all　　have　been　imagined　with　the　same　clearness；　all　written　of　　with　equal　gusto　and　precision；　all　created　in　the　same　mixed　　element；　of　simplicity　that　is　almost　comical；　and　art　that；　　for　its　purpose；　is　faultless。
  It　was　in　much　the　same　spirit　that　our　artist　sat　down　to