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Volume LVIL F^outhern'eis^obde^ 1 ''^*^^^1919* [consolidated 18-2. Milledgeville, Ga., July 13, 1886. Number 1. ADDRESS Before the Literary Societies —OF THE— M. G. M. & A. COLLEGE, AT MILLEDGEVILLE, GA., BY WM. H. FLEMING, Esq. ) Middle Georgia Military and Agricultural College, Milledgeville, Ga., July 6th, 1886.) Mr. Wm. H. Fleming: Sir:—Appreciating very highly the chaste and thoughtful address you de livered before our Societies last even ing, we earnestly ask a copy of it for publication. With much respect, (Chas. Minor, Phi Sigma Soc. [lorn. J. T. Minor, Alpha Zeta ^ (Aurie Brantley, Ennoian Oconee House, > Milledgeville, Ga., July 6th, 1880.> Miss Aurie Brantley, Mr. Charles Minor, Mr. J. T. Minor, Presi dents Literary Societies:. Your note of this morning request ing a copy of my address for publica tion, has been received. I.thank you for your words of commendation, and will gladly comply with your request. I have the honor to remain yours sincerely, TT „ Wm. H. Fleming. wen mg. mtu some served to resolution A D D R E S S. jAdies and Gentlemen: 1 am sorely temflted this 3 break a resolution for: ears ago and faithfully ob he present time. That ^as never to begin an address by raking excuses to the audience for he imperfections of what I might Lave to say. Such a course always eemed to me, in the rashness of r outli, to be in bad taste, or at least n questionable taste, and it certain- y did not accord with my views of ourage and self-reliance. In that connection, I often think of he heroic conduct of a lady friend of uine whose husband, with a heart ull of love to his fellow-men, but vith a bead singularly regardless of the •equirements and details of domestic Ltfairs, invited a dozen of liis brother awyers to dine with him one day vithout giving his charming wife a moment's notice of his hospitable in- entions. That woman, that noble voman, that! saintly woman, uttered 10 crv of despair, and gave expression ;o no feeling of complaint. With a ,firming grace, she invited the twelve xiencls to partake of the /somewhat ;canty meal prepared for only herself md lier thoughtless lord. It was a :ase of long division and short pro- jortion. Iso one at»that table, on hat occasion suffered from the effects )f over-eating. The dishes, one after mother were exhausted, but still no vord of apology or excuse escaped ;he lips of the martyr hostess. On die contrary, her manners were as jdembarrassed and as queenly as :hough she were dispensing the favors M a roval banquet. Finally ms her quests were about to depart, she said in a most significant torle: “Gentle men, you dined to-day with Mr. Jones. You must all return* to-morrow, and line with Mrs. Jones.” They did so, ?md to their intense delight found what a difference there is between dining with a man, and'dining with bis wife. I have a high regard for Alexander and Hannibal, and Ctesar, and Napo leon. and Washington, and Welling ton and others of their kind, but la dies and gentlemen, I admire, nay more. I am ready to bow r dow n and worship that woman, ^lie was great er than them all. Now, I ain grievously tempted to ask vou to indulgently consider that since I was informed* that I was to have the high honor of entertaining you at a literary feast this evening, I have been imrnersed, I might truth fully say submerged, in business af fairs of a peculiarly absorbing nature. But inspired by the example of that heroic woman, I beg you to under stand that I make no apology and offer no excuse for either the quanti ty or the quality of what I shall place before you. And if you leave this hall anhungered and athirst, I shall have to take the liberty of asking you to come at some other time and “dine with Mrs. Jones,”—not that I am a married man. Alas! no. Far from it. To change the figure of speech, 1 invite vou, this evening, to turn aside from the dusty highway Qf our ordi nary discussions about public ques tions, and education, and ambition, and the present, past and future, and woman, and girls, and love, and such other like common-place themes, and to wander leisurely with me along a pleasant by-path that winds through green pastures and beside still waters. We cannot but be refreshed by the sweet, pure air around us and enchanted by the varied scenes of beauty and grandeur spread out before us in such blended harmony that “the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.” I ask your attention to an analysis and discussion of the character of Iago as portrayed by Shakespeare in the play of Othello. I may assume, of course, that the audience is familiar wfitli the general features of the drama, and if aught that I may say, by way of criticism, shall induce any student of this noble institution or any member of this cul tured audience to apply himself more dilligently to master the contents of tii&t greatest of all books, except tiie Bible, I shall f^el that my effort has not been in vain. IAGO. Dramatic writing differs radically from narrative, descriptive and dis- coursive writing. The historian tells us what w'as done and how it was done. The essayist and philosopher analyze the doings of men, and theo rize and moralize about them. But the dramatist puts the .actors them selves before us in their own proper persons, and produces his effects at first hand from nature; These actors look at us, and vj-e see them with our eyes. They spet|k to us, and we hear them with *our ears. There is no in tervening medium to dull and darken the life-like reality of the ideal crea tion. The critic tells us about love, its first manifestations, its curious growth, its Mraifge inconsistencies, its sweet tendernesses, its tantalizing refusals, its chaste concessions, and its heroic fidelity. The dramatist shows us Ro meo and Juliet. The one gives us a dlfcriptiori of a picture. The other gives us the picture itself. To create a definite character in the mind ; to make that character at all times and under all circumstances speak and act in harmony with itself; to. giye appropriate expression to every passion, whether swelling or subsiding,' whether taking entire pos session of the breast and sweeping all obstacles before it or dividing its sway with some rival and conflicting pas sion, as love and jealousy; to touch among the thousand chords of the heart just that particular chord which gives forth the note that Vibrates true to nature ; to do all this requires not only a creative imagination, a keen perception and an unlimited power of expression, but a sensibility so varied and delicate as to enable the author to feel in his own breast the passions he attempts to portray. None but the highest genius is equal to such a task. For genius is intellect warmed and inspired by the sensibilities. Shakespeare could, no doubt, have written essays, reviews, critiques, etc., but in no realm could liis genius have shone so brilliantly as in the drama with its severe requirements. So that we are indebted to the stage for Shakespeare as we have him. Let us not be unmindful of that fact when tempted to place an unqualified con demnation on the stage. The *vhole world of letters, religious as well as secular, ’draws power and inspiration from the works of this master mind. If the modern stage could only give us a Shakespeare to interpret and crystalize the best thought and senti ment of our civilization, how readily we could pardon much of the evil it has done! In no play perhaps has Shakespeare shown his wonderful power of charac terization more strikingly than in the play of Othello. Certain it is, that in creating Iago, he performed the diffi cult task of drawing the fnost consum mate villain in all literature. In com pleteness Qf detail and perfection, of finish he outranks Richard III. There has been a great deal said and writ ten about Iago, but let us free our minds from every preconceived opin ion of this villain, and examine him critically for ourselves just as Shakes peare represents him. We w ill thus be assured that while the subject is old, our conclusions will have to some extent the merit of freshness and orig inality. Lord Bacon, in his famous essay on Truth, says that men lie “from a nat ural though corrupt love of the lie itself.” Lord Bacon is high authority, but this observation strikes wide of the mark. This is the rationale of the process: the mind receives its first impressions through the senses of see ing, hearing, tasting, touching and smelling. The reports made by the senses from the outer world to jthe inner mind are truthful, except when the senses which are the media of transmission are diseased. Speech is one form of giving expression to the effects produced by these reports, and is, in its inception, naturally truthful. Rather should Lord Bacon have said that men lie with a purpose to deceive. A lie is not so much an end as it is a means to accomplish an end. For ex ample, statements made to us by oth ers are often the premises from which we draw'our conclusions and by which we shape our actions. If the premises are false, the conclusions are likewise false, and the actions consequent thereon are necessarily misdirected. By habitual practice, lying may be come and often does become a sort of second nature, but depend upon it, lying is an acquired accomplishment, and the original object of lying is de ception. . . Shakespeare was too good a judge of human nature to represent liis arch-liar as acting without motive other than that implied in this Bacon ian theory of the “corrupt love of the. lie itself.” Iago speaks the truth ex cept when a lie answers his purpose better. He was too shrewd to do otherwise. An indiscriminate liar is no artist—he is a fool. If he seldom speaks the truth, no one will believe him, and he is w ithout foundation to build on. He must so act in general as to inspire confidence in order that when the particular critical moment arrives his lies may be accepted as truths. fi ne skillful hypocrite will ap pear open, frank, seemingly a little blunt and entirely candid. If to these traits he can add a gracious fa miliarity and a sympathetic interest in the affairs of his victims, he may justly claim to be cm artist in his pro fession. Such was “honest' 5 Iago. He lias popular manners, pretends the warmest interest in Roderigo, is the trusted bosom friend of Othello, volunteers kindly aid to Cassio; jests with Desdemona in the hey-day of her happiness, replying when she archly asks his opinion of her, “O gentle lady, do not put me to it, For I am nothing, if not critical. * And Avhen, her ypung heart wrung by its first great sorrow at the cruel charges of Othello taken from Iago's own lips, Desdemona with the sweet est and purest innocence asks “Am I that name, Iago?” this patronizing hypocrite says sooth ingly, “Do not weep! Do not weep! Alas, the day”’ In fact, Iago has something pleas ant to say to every one except Emilia, liis wife. It w’as hardly possible for him to*play successfully a double role with her. The fact is she saw top much of him. The man who wears a wig usually takes it off at night. His wife, if not blinded by love ought to see a man, just as he is. And Emilia does not appear to have lavished an unusual degree of alfection on Iago, though even slie did not know the full extent of his villainy until his di abolical schemes hail wrought out their ruin. By nature Iago was intense in his dislikes, but cold, self-poised, intellec tual, calculating, intriguing, greedy, ambitious, supremely selfish, and above all utterly unscrupulous. These elements of his character were carefully concealed under an exterior of pleasant popular manners, an ap parent loyalty to friends, and an un selfish interest in all their affairs. What an excellent politician he would have made! Had he lived in the present day, he would assuredly have been conspicuous in what is known as the “Commercial School” of States men. His first injunction to Roderigo was “Put money in *tliy purse.” Nine times he repeats the sage advice, “Put money in thy purse.” He had an eye to business. Had Iago exhibited himself in his real character, or even as he is sometimes represented on the stage, he could not possibly have duped every one with whom he came in contact. His was the refinement of all hypocrisy. Without one pang of conscience, he coolly invents and assiduously instills into the mind of Othello the* foulest slander against “thesweetest innocent that ere did lift up eye.*’ But observe how exquisitely he moralizes in the very next breath: “Good name in man or woman, dear my loid, Is the.immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse, steals trash; ‘ti- some thin?, nothin?; •Rwas mine, 7 ti> his, and has been slave to thou sands : Hut lie that filches from me mj good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And muhes me poor indeed." It is true Iago does draw aside his cloak of hypocrisy, and give Roderigo a glance at his real self when he says : ‘ For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart f In compliment extern, *tis net long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at; I am not what I am. 7 ’ But this was not a blunder for Iago knew his man. He made no such, dis closure to Cassio or Othello. Roderi go was a harmless fellow. He did not have much sense; for as appears from the play, he was one of those “wealthy, curled darlings of the na tion,” alias dudes, whom Desdemona had wisely rejected. Shakespeare does not misread human nature when he represents this true, genuine woman, this lovely, tender flower of a girl as instinctively turning away with ill-concealed contempt from that femi nine form of the masculine gender, and bestowing the unstinted love of her heart upon one whose every act and word bore the stamp of a virile man hood, even though his complexion was darkened by the shadowed livery of the burnished sun. The motives which influenced Iago's actions were several in number and different in kind. First, there was his jealousy of Cas sio who had been promoted over him (a slight that always keenly wounds the pride of a soldier) to the rank second in command under Othel lo—a position of honor and power in the state dearly coveted by Iago and for which, he tells us, “three great ones of the city” made personal suit to Othelio in his behalf. He at once re solves to displace his successful com petitor. How shall he proceed? Op portunity is not long wanting to the unscrupulous. The vessel had just ar rived at port. Cassio is there to wel come Desdemona. Iago is also pres ent. Take care Cassio, ardent, rash young man, how you hold and press the hand of the fair Desdemona! A pair of cruel eyes are fixed on you now, and a voice as merciless and cold as the echo from an iceburg, whispers, “w ith as little a web as that will I en snare as great a fly as Cassio.” J But before the spider envelops the fly in this little web of love’s impru dent display, occasion furnishes an other means of ensnaring him. Iago persuades Roderigo that Desdemona must soon tire of the Moor (“for” says he, “what delight shall she have to look on the devil?”) but informs him that Cassio stands next in her affec tions. Iago is full of resources, and it is not long before he makes oppor tunity to put Roderigo at work on liis new found rival. He goes to the hall of the castle where the soldiers are preparing for the night-watch, and equal to every emergency, he joins with all his soul in their convivialities. He sings, for his friends, drinks with liis friends, makes his friends drunk, but never gets drunk himself. How sad, and yet how true it is, that the chivalrous, the magnanimous, thesoci- ableand the lovable are so often the eas iest victims of the wine-cup!—made 60 in part by their very virtues in the absence of the necessary strength of character to hold their impulses in check. Iago haa no such virtues to put him iu peril. The truth is he was too mean and selfish to get drunk, “is it true. O God in Heaven. That the strongest suffer most, That the noblest wander farthest And most hopelessly are lost; That the highest type of nature Is capacity for pain. That the sadness of the singer Makes the sweetness of the strain When the generous open-hearted Cas sio, “w’ho hath,'’ as Iago admits, ”a daily beauty in his life that makes me ugly,” was stung with remorse, upon recovering from the drunken spree into which he had been so unwilling ly but craftily led, and exclaimed in his anguish, “O, thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!” Iago inw’ardly rejoiced that he had com passed his ruin by Having him remov ed from the coveted post of honor, and adroitly turns the subject of con versation. Cassio is dismissed in dis grace. One point is gained. Another motive which influenced Iago, or rather one which he tried to persuade himself existed, was his own weakness for Desdemona. He knew that Cassio loved her, and that Othel lo loved her, and in soliloquizing, he says, “Now I do love her too.” But in justice to himself, he immediately qualifies this speech ; for hypocrite as he is, he cannot practice such decep tion on himself, and to pretend it to Desdemona was not a part of his scheme. If it had been, undoubtedly he would have essayed the role of lover, and played it to perfection. Iago's love! The idea! The devil would laugh at such an incongruity. A man of his make-up is no more ca pable of the divine passion of love with its absorbing worship of another and its noble forgetfulness of self than the frozen regions of the arctic zone are capable of giving out the warmth and sunshine of a tropical isle. When the weak-minded Roderigo, in a fit of mawkish sentimentality, forgets his manhood and talks of drowning himself from disappointed love, Iago exclaims. "Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies!” “Ere I would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I would change my hu manity with a baboon." There is good advice in these words, advice wkicfl no strong character needs. But the manner of administering the dose shows that the medicine is pre- j scribed by a doctor who never suffer ed from the disease. “He jests at scars who never felt a wound.” Iago is utterly devoid of any genuine chiv- alric regard for women. This is his opinion of them: “You are pictures out of doors. Bells iu your parlors, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended. 7 ' picion with which he intends to abuse the ear of Othello. The innocent Des demona had never harmed Iago, but by sacrificing her good name, he can advance his own interests, and he never scruples about the means he employs. The extremities to which he will go are limited only by his ne cessities. Would that the world had less of his kind to-day! One of the finest scenes in the play, one which could have been conceived and executed only by genius, is that in which Iago first insinuates his foul suspicion in the mind of Othello. Desdemona and. Cassio are engaged in a very innocent conversation, and as Othello and Iago approach. Cassio departs. Iago cunningly feigning to have seen or heard something which escaped the notice of the Moor, whis pers, “Ha! I like not that.” “What dost thou say?” asks Othello. “Noth ing, my lord*; or if—I know not what.” From * this slight spark the tinder catches fire. Iago fans it with a few more breaths, and soon the flames have spread beyond all control. “Tri fles light as air are to the jealous con firmation strong as proofs from Holy Writ.” Up to this point, it is doubtful if Iago had deliberately meditated tak ing the life of any one, because it had not been necessary for him to do so. Indeed, he tells us “Though in the trade of war, I have slain men Yet do I hold it the very pith bf conscience To do no contrived murder.” But now he has kindled a fire he can not quench. His own life is in immi nent peril. Othello in the height of his passion seems for a moment to doubt the truth of Iago's accusation of Desdemona, and turning upon him, takes him by the throat and exclaims: “Villain, be sure you prove my love untrue. Be sure of it: give me the ocular proof, Or by the worth of mine.eternal soul. Thou hadst better have been born a dog Than answer my waked wrath. 77 It is too late now’ Iago, to retrace your steps or falter in your course. Vou have sown the wind. Take care that you do not reap the whirlwind. Besides the motives of revenge that first moved you, you are now whip ped on by fear for your own life. Well may you fall on your knees and in the sight of Heaven swear: I And this from a man of twenty- j eight and married! A third motive of Iago was to re venge himself on Othello who it seems had wronged him in two ways. First and foremost, because he had not promoted him to the vacant lieuten- antcy; and secondly, (though this seems to have been more of an after consideration) because, as Iago says, it was “thought abroad” the Moor and Mrs. Iago had not been 4 as distant in their relations as propriety demand ed. If Iago really believed this ru mor, it does not appear to have offend ed to any alarming extent his delicate sensibilities; nor to have made him less solicitous to continue his service under the Moor. Doubtless he did fear that for such a thin^ to be “thought abroad” might injure his position and prospects, and probably, his self-pride was seriously wounded, o t for he says aloud to himself, “the | G f the web his brains and hands had “Witness you ever burning lights above! You elements that clip us round about' Witness, that here Iago doth give up The execution of his wit. hands, heart, To wronger Othello's service: let him command. And to obev shall be in me remorse, What bloody work soever. 77 To invent the lie about Cassio's talking in his sleep and in his dreams caressing Desdemona ; to seize upon the fatal clue of the handkerchief, a tender keepsake dear to Othello's heart ; to cunningly contrive that Othello overhearing Cassio speaking in coarse jest of the woman Bianca, shall believe he is speaking of Desde mona ; to urge on Othello to his terri ble deed of murder, aye, even to sug gesting the manner of the killing. “Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed;” to place Roderigo and Cassio at daggers points, and with his own hand cut Cassio from behind; to thrust his blade into the heart of the wounded and helpless Roderigo whose treasure he had stolen, and finally, to imbrue his hands in the life-blood of his own wife, who while not pure her self, stoutly and nobly maintained the innocence and purity of Desdemona ; all these were the swift workings and desperate efforts of an unscrupulous mind embittered by dogged revenge and sharpened by the consciousness of its own danger in the event of fail ure. However moderate may have been Iago's first intentions, one step in crime necessitated another, and at last with the blood of Roderigo, Emi lia and Desdemona on his soul, he finds himself, as happily most villains do, caught in the too-complex meshes thought thereof doth, like a poison ous mineral, gnaw at my inwards." But not for one instant did a noble indignation get the better of his base, calculating policy for self-advance ment. What a contrast in this respect be tween Iago and Othello. The one be lieves that an unspeakable wreng has been done him. The other only sus pects it. The one slavishly submits. The other is roused with a lordly in dignation. The very poison with which he expects to run the noble- hearted Moor to almost instant mad ness has for weeks and months coursed harmlessly through the base, cold blood of Iago! The dagger which is spun to ensnare others. But even this extremity, Iago preserves his cool self-control. * He takes the chances of want of evidence to convict him and is discreetly silent. Like a murderer just from consultation with a shrewd criminal lawyer, he replies to the first question asked him: “From this time forth, I never will speak a word." The exclamation »of the astounded Lodovico, “What, not to pray?” elic its no response. And when the cli max is reached, and Othello, wild with anguish at the wrong done hi? inno cent, loving wife, plunges his dagger in his own breast, falls upon Desde mona, and smothers her, this time with kisses, Iago still maintains his to pierce the heart of Othello, could ; gullen silence even in the face of this not penetrate the cuticle of Iago! .It was a master stroke of the dramatist to make Iago use that weapon a- gainst Othello. Could a mean soul make a more humiliating confession of its meanness? When Iago began his scheming, he did not have all his plans worked out in detail. They were developed as opportunity afforded. Nor did he see to what extreme measures he would be led. His first step was to gratify his hate of Othello by aiding Roderigo to supplant him in the affections qf Des demona—making heavy drafts withal. upon the purse and credulity of Rode-•. What a relief to the mind, my ri^o drafts which were always honor- friends, to know that such a creature ef f * The next step was to make ! never existed; that while the traits of use of Cassio to torture Othello with ! his character were in themselves iealousv. And how agonizing that drawn true to nature yet no one man, torture*! for “to be wroth with one ! Judas perhaps excepted, ever com- we love doth work like madness on the bined all his yillianies; and that Iago brain.” A further advance was to an-! is in fact, the creation of Shakes- tter Othello with Cassio so as to secure : peare's genius, his dismissal, and thus accomplish a 1 The object of tliq dr double purpose. But when this is done, he is not through with Cassio. He must make him seek a re-instate ment, through 'the intercession of terrible reproach: “O. Spartan dog. More fell than anguish, hanger or the p«a. Look on the tragic loading of tbi* bed. As Iago is borne from the final scene to suffer the torture that awaits him, we cannot but feel that he desqlrves, it all; that avenging fate should, in the language of Emilia “Putin every honest hand a whip, To lash the rascal naked through the world,” For in him we behold the most con summate hypocrite and villian that has disgraced mankind since the suicide of Judas Iscariot. relief to the moment upon these scenes taken on ly too faithfully from real life. You see that innocence suffered unjustly, that virtue and fidelity were denied in this world their fair deserts. But be not dismaved. They have their reward. God Himself hath said it. Look again. You see that envy and malice and hypocrisy and lying and every form of evil and injustice were finally overtaken with punishment, and so it will continue to be as inevi tably as effect follows after cause. Therefore be not deceived. They have their reward. God himself hath said it. Let us then while avoiding and dis daining the weakness and inaction of mawkish sentimentality, put on the field armour of the soldier, and resolve to live and die faithful to our best, our strongest, our highest, our noblest sentiments, and with one voice ex claim: Eternal Truth! An humble votary at thy shrine would I come. Strength en my heart to bear, if need be, mar tyrdom for thy cause! The English Elections. The news of the 3rd seems to be un favorable to the success of Mr. Glad stone’s policy of Home Rule for the Irish. The Irish vote, in England, has not worked the wonders promised by Mr. T. P. O'Connor. The pollings, on the second instant, showed but two places favorable to the Liberals leaving the others unaltered. This shows, if not a great defection on the part of the Irish a singular indiffer ence. Further information from Scotland indicates a strong feeling in favor of Mr. Gladstone's policy. The Gladstonians look to the provincial Polls. None of them had been report ed as yet. If they do not go with Gladstone his defeat would seem to be certain. Gladstone calls upon Wales with much earnestness. In every land and clime, the merit of St. Jacabs Oil as the only conquer or of pain, are being acknowledged by the press and people. Personal. Hon. T. J. Simmons, judge of the Macon circuit, Col. L. F. Livingston, president of the state agricultural society, Hon. F. S. Johnson, mayor pro-teinof Macon, Col. Lee Jordan, of Dougherty county, Hon. H. S. 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