t first.

Macbeth, the cousin of a King mild, just, and beloved, but now too old
to lead his army, is introduced to us as a general of extraordinary
prowess, who has covered himself with glory in putting down a rebellion
and repelling the invasion of a foreign army. In these conflicts he
showed great personal courage, a quality which he continues to display
throughout the drama in regard to all plain dangers. It is difficult to
be sure of his customary demeanour, for in the play we see him either in
what appears to be an exceptional relation to his wife, or else in the
throes of remorse and desperation; but from his behaviour during his
journey home after the war, from his _later_ conversations with Lady
Macbeth, and from his language to the murderers of Banquo and to others,
we imagine him as a great warrior, somewhat masterful, rough, and
abrupt, a man to inspire some fear and much admiration. He was thought
'honest,' or honourable; he was trusted, apparently, by everyone;
Macduff, a man of the highest integrity, 'loved him well.' And there
was, in fact, much good in him. We have no warrant, I think, for
describing him, with many writers, as of a 'noble' nature, like Hamlet
or Othello;[214] but he had a keen sense both of honour and of the worth
of a good name. The phrase, again, 'too much of the milk of human
kindness,' is applied to him in impatience by his wife, who did not
fully understand him; but certainly he was far from devoid of humanity
and pity.

At the same time he was exceedingly ambitious. He must have been so by
temper. The tendency must have been greatly strengthened by his
marriage. When we see him, it has been further stimulated by his
remarkable success and by the consciousness of exceptional powers and
merit. It becomes a passion. The course of action suggested by it is
extremely perilous: it sets his good name, his position, and even his
life on the hazard. It is also abhorrent to his better feelings. Their
defeat in the struggle with ambition leaves him utterly wretched, and
would have kept him so, however complete had been his outward success
and security. On the other hand, his passion for power and his instinct
of self-assertion are so vehement that no inward misery could persuade
him to relinquish the fruits of crime, or to advance from remorse to
repentance.

In the character as so far sketched there is nothing very peculiar,
though the strength of the forces contending in it is unusual.