To all this, however, so little comparative projection is given,--nay, the masterly group of Agamemnon, Nestor, and Ulysses, and, still more in advance, that of Achilles, Ajax, and Thersites, so manifestly occupy the foreground, that the subservience and vassalage of strength and animal courage to intellect and policy seems to be the lesson most often in our poet's view, and which he has taken little pains to connect with the former more interesting moral impersonated in the titular hero and heroine of the drama. But I am half inclined to believe, that Shakspeare's main object, or shall I rather say, his ruling impulse, was to translate the poetic heroes of paganism into the not less rude, but more intellectually vigorous, and more _featurely_, warriors of Christian chivalry,--and to substantiate the distinct and graceful profiles or outlines of the Homeric epic into the flesh and blood of the romantic drama,--in short, to give a grand history-piece in the robust style of Albert Durer. The character of Thersites, in particular, well deserves a more careful examination, as the Caliban of demagogic life;--the admirable portrait of intellectual power deserted by all grace, all moral principle, all not momentary impulse;--just wise enough to detect the weak head, and fool enough to provoke the armed fist of his betters;--one whom malcontent Achilles can inveigle from malcontent Ajax, under the one condition, that he shall be called on to do nothing but abuse and slander, and that he shall be allowed to abuse as much and as purulently as he likes, that is, as he can;--in short, a mule,--quarrelsome by the original discord of his nature,--a slave by tenure of his own baseness,--made to bray and be brayed at, to despise and be despicable. 'Aye, Sir, but say what you will, he is a very clever fellow, though the best friends will fall out. There was a time when Ajax thought he deserved to have a statue of gold erected to him, and handsome Achilles, at the head of the Myrmidons, gave no little credit to his _friend Thersites_!' Act iv. sc. 5. Speech of Ulysses:-- O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give a _coasting_ welcome ere it comes-- Should it be 'accosting?' 'Accost her, knight, accost!' in the Twelfth Night. Yet there sounds a something so Shakspearian in the phrase--'give a coasting welcome,' ('coasting' being taken as the epithet and adjective of 'welcome,') that had the following words been, 'ere _they land_,' instead of 'ere it comes,' I should have preferred the interpretation. The sense now is, 'that give welcome to a salute ere it comes.' CORIOLANUS.