I see you have considered the great questions of

politics deeply.

In haste, I am, my dear Sir,

Your faithful servant,

JAMES CURRIE.

No. 108.

To Miss C, Ge.

MY DEAR MISS C.

Liverpool, Feb. 4. 1804.

Having had occasion to write to your brother and sister on their little boy's health, I have been every moment reminded of you, and of my own unworthiness, in having so long delayed to answer your note of the 15th January, the reference in which did me so much honour.

I might tell you the truth, that I have been extremely occupied; I might say, besides, that I have been much indisposed. These excuses will not serve me. What occupation could I have that would justify me in neglecting the task assigned me by my fair friend; which, spiritless and languid as I have been, might, coming from her, have inspired the strength for its own consummation? The truth is, I read her note with pleasure and approbation; -I turned to Shakspeare with alacrity;-I was about to place the

laurel on her brow; -I read and paused;-the damps of doubt stole over me; I shut the book, and deferred my decision for further consideration.

In the mean time I have amused myself with starting the question in our little parties. Almost every body is with Miss C., Mrs. L. will not even admit that there is a question in the case. My own Jane has scarcely a doubt; and yet such is the perversity of my understanding, that neither authority nor discussion convinces me, and that I find myself deserting to the ranks of the adversaries.

How are we to understand the words of Desdemona" she wished that Heaven had made her such a man"?—that is the question. Does she wish herself changed into a man? or does she (as at first sight seems most natural) wish for herself such a husband?

"Does it not seem unnatural that such a weak timid character, as Desdemona is represented to be, should wish herself in the place of a warrior who had gone through innumerable perils, as was the case with Othello? and does not such a wish seem particularly inconsistent with the situation of a woman desperately in love, as was confessedly her case?"-These interrogations, which you put with such force, contain the

whole strength of the argument for your opinion. I will tell you why I more than hesitate to answer them as you expect. First, then, it must be allowed, that whatever Desdemona's character may have been in other respects, her admiration of heroic deeds was unbounded. Othello was not young-was not beautiful, yet he won her.

"That I did love the Moor to live with him,

My downright violence and storm of fortune
May trumpet to the world; my heart's subdued,
Even to the very quality of my Lord:

I saw Othello's visage in his mind;
And to his honours and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate."

This is her own account of the matter, perfectly agreeing with the previous representation of the Moor. He told her the story of his life-his "battles," "sieges," and "disastrous chances,"

"And moving accidents by flood and field."

He often "beguiled her of her tears," and got for his pains" a world of sighs."

"She swore in faith 'twas wondrous pitiful;

She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man; she thanked me,

And bade me if I had a friend that loved her,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake."

The affecting tale of Othello, the "distressfui strokes his youth had suffered," excited the

warm sympathies, and melted the generous heart of Desdemona: her tenderness and admiration break forth amidst her sighs, in sudden and abrupt exclamations; and she passes rapidly, as is most natural in such situations, from one train of thought to another:-"'twas strange," -"'twas pitiful: "—

"She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man."

Such a passing thought as this last, taken literally, may be allowed to be natural in the breast of a woman, the counterpart of a hero, who, though tender and delicate, was not timid, and who was passionately devoted to heroic achievements. Had she, indeed, rested here, we might have found fault; but see how beautifully the woman breaks out, and terminates the whole:

"She thanked me;

And bade me if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her."

The tender and delicate Desdemona, in whose heart love was the offspring of pity and admiration, betrays her secret at last; but not so soon, not so broadly, as the elliptical construction of the words in question supposes for a mo

ment she wishes herself identified with her hero ; but in the end she tells him how his friend might woo her; and on this hint Othello spake.

I have argued the subject generally, supposing the words to bear either construction indifferently; but you will observe that my construction is literal, yours elliptical, (that is, requiring a word to be supposed, to make out the meaning,) which gives me a slight advantage. You will observe, also, that Othello says it was on this hint he spake; whereas, according to your interpretation, he should have said these hints, at least; the first being much the strongest of the two, if that, indeed, could be denominated a hint, which to me (in the sense you give it) seems an open declaration. And do And do you think it was becoming of the modest Desdemona to make so direct a declaration to the object of her admiration; or to finish her speech with teaching his friend how to woo her, in the preceding part of which she had virtually declared that she was already won-won by himself?

of

I see that a considerable part your difficulty in the admission of the literal meaning of the words, arises from your notion of the incongruity of this meaning with the "weak and timid character" of Desdemona. To this I have already replied, that whether she were weak and