us an impression of unreality. They have no rich blood in their veins;
and are little better than lay figures taking up positions as it may
happen, in order to form an effective tableau illustrative of an
unexceptionable moral.

There is, it is true, one remarkable exception to the general weakness
of Massinger's characters. The vigour with which Sir Giles Overreach is
set forth has made him the one well-known figure in Massinger's gallery,
and the 'New Way to Pay Old Debts' showed, in consequence, more vitality
than any of his other plays. Much praise has been given, and not more
than enough, to the originality and force of the conception. The
conventional miser is elevated into a great man by a kind of inverse
heroism, and made terrible instead of contemptible. But it is equally
plain that here, too, Massinger fails to project himself fairly into his
villain. His rants are singularly forcible, but they are clearly what
other people would think about him, not what he would really think,
still less what he would say, of himself. Take, for example, the very
fine speech in which he replies to the question of the virtuous
nobleman, whether he is not frightened by the imprecations of his
victims:--

Yes, as rocks are
When foaming billows split themselves against
Their flinty sides; or as the moon is moved
When wolves, with hunger pined, howl at her brightness.
I am of a solid temper, and, like these,
Steer on a constant course; with mine own sword,
If called into the field, I can make that right
Which fearful enemies murmur at as wrong.
Now, for those other piddling complaints
Breath'd out in bitterness, as when they call me
Extortioner, tyrant, cormorant, or intruder
On my poor neighbour's rights or grand incloser
Of what was common to my private use,
Nay, when my ears are pierced with widows' cries,
And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold,
I only think what 'tis to have my daughter
Right honourable; and 'tis a powerful charm
Makes me insensible to remorse or pity,
Or the least sting of conscience.

Put this into the third person; read 'he' for 'I,' and 'his' for 'my,'
and it is an admirable bit of denunciation of a character probably
intended as a copy from life. It is a description of a wicked man from
outside; and wickedness seen from outside is generally unreasonable and
preposterous. When it is converted,