Away! or I will cut ye down like sheep So will I cast ye to the dust, ye bondsmen ! Who cling round and encumber Freedom's limbs. Mr. G. P. R. James is one of the most prolific and indefatigable writers of the age; but he is at the same time one of the most sterling and soundhearted. A single sentence in one of his recently published works, may indicate sufficiently what are his views of the present morbid craving for the exploits of thieves and murderers; I consider it an insult to virtue to make vice 'attractive.' It is upon this principle that the present drama, 'Blanche of Navarre,' is written, and from this it derives not the least of its merits. We are always glad to applaud the sentiments of an honest and conscientious writer, and the pleasure is doubled when the talent displayed is equal to the virtue. Both these recommendations are combined in Blanche of Navarre. It is written with great spirit, great felicity of style, and nobility of sentiment, which warms and animates the heart of the reader as he proceeds. The story is simply this. Philip, king of Navarre, has married Isabel, of Valois, who is just on the point of arriving at his palace with her attendants-the king and his sister, the princess Blanche, have been brought up together, and are strongly attached; Blanche is not only beautiful, but of a thoroughly beautiful and excellent nature; she is full of a noble simplicity and true womanly affection. Isabel arrives, a princely, gay, and fascinating woman, but at the same time ambitious, imperious, and of the most violent passions. In her suite is Francis, Count of Foix, a gay gallant, who prides himself on his favour with the ladies. He offends the Navarrese nobles by the light strain in which he speaks of their favorite princess, is challenged by one of them, and seriously wounded. This, and what he sees further of Blanche, brings him to his senses. By the beauty of her character, and the charms of her conversation, he becomes an altered man. He soon gives proofs of the total change of his sentiments, and seeks to win the affections of Blanche. This is gall and wormwood to Queen Isabel, who is only too much attached to him herself. She instigates the king against Blanche, who is confined to the Castle of Llanora. The Count, however, succeeds in liberating her, and they fly to France, but are overtaken by the Navarrese troops, they fight, Blanche escapes into France, but the Count, uncertain of fate, returns into Navarre, in the very face of his enemies, is taken, and condemned to die for high treason. In the mean time, Blanche, who has heard of his ill fortune, has obtained an escort from the king of France, and with an effectual remonstrance from that monarch, arrives just in time to save his head. . Such is a bare outline of the incidents; but the working of them out, the development of the characters, and the vigour and vivacity of the dialogue, are all worthy of Mr. James's fame. It is not by particular passages that the merit of this drama can be shown, but we may select a passage or two of poetical beauty or heroic sentiment. This is a lively picture of a busy square in a gay city: In my tower There is a latticed window, looking forth Walks slow across, with russet gown, bare feet, What God gives freely, scarce importunes man. -p. 37. The feeling excited by a multitude is here as fine as the sketch of the multitude was graphic. The multitude! I love the multitude, To gaze upon them in their holiday, And think, though fate and fortune are resolved I on another stage should move from them, There is not one that passes 'neath mine eyes, Who has not some affections in his breast Hope, fear, love, sorrow, care, the thoughts of home, Ay, noble thoughts, too, and ingenuous pride In me the drop of Adam's blood that still And makes mankind all brothers.-Here we're well.-p. 55. The Lords of Ellingham is a tragedy founded on the trial of Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Cobham, and others on a charge of high treason, in the reign of James I. We believe the author, Mr. Spicer, is a young man, and this drama, as a first production, does him great honour. It abounds with talent which time and experience may ripen into great power. It everywhere exhibits a highly poetical mind, and a flowing, and often nervous style; but the language wants condensation, and variety of cadence. In going through the play you become sensible of a monotonous cast of sentences that clogs on the ear. But the most fatal blemish to the work is that of making Edith, the lovely and high-souled wife of Latymer, yield to the scoundrel Laurency, even though it were with the weak hope of saving her husband's life. It is a circumstance which at once sinks the heroine in our estimation, revolts every feeling of our minds, and all sense of poetical justice. Had the author tried the virtue of Edith to the utmost, and made Latymer, her husband, rush in while she yet stood triumphant, even though both he and she had fallen in the affray, how much would the admiration and sympathy of the reader have been raised. Nevertheless, there is a great descriptive power displayed in these very scenes. There is a fearful grandeur in the description of this fallen woman as seen by the dwarf Garagantua through the hall window, amid the base associates of her seducer. A banquet board is spread Rich fruit, and luscious wine that lure men's brain The boisterous bully and the rough-tongued squire ;- They bring a harp- Great God! he will not strike her! he's a man, And men are round him! Cowards, cowards, look! pp. 113-115. Earl Harold is a tragedy indeed. He is a nobleman who murders his brother and his brother's wife, and attempts the life of their infant, to seize on their titles and estates, and then is haunted by the ghosts of remorse. There is no want of ability about it, but it is too full of horrors and darkness, and storms and murders for our taste. The admirers of Jack Sheppard may notwithstanding find charms in it. 6 But what shall we say to Mr. Jacob Jones and his Cathedral Bell. Here is a learned Barrister at Law, who styles himself author of the Stepmother,' of Longinus, or the fall of Pal'myra,' of Spartacus, or the Roman Gladiator,' tragedies in five acts; of the Anglo-Polish Harp,' and other works; and who has whole pages of eulogistic extracts from many of our critical journals, and some of them of high standing, yet who, according to his own account, has been for these twenty years endeavouring in vain to get one of his tragedies produced on the boards of a leading theatre. With such a host of recommendations we dare say he deems it strange that he should not find as much favour at the hands of the managers as another learned gentleman. Without pretending to decide what may be the actual merit of Mr. Jones's other much-lauded performances, we must say that if they at all resemble the one before us, the kindest thing which the critics could have done, would, long ago, have been to recommend him to burn his dramas and give all his energy to his briefs. A greater medley of improbabilities and caricatures of men and women it has not often been our lot to read; but that Mr. Jones may not class us with those few 'critics,' who, he says, have attempted to crush him without a sample of his style, we will give a sample. 1st Guard. For such old bones we young ones are held cheap! Their gums are toothless. —p. 4. There are whole pages of such dialogues; even the daughter of the governor of Saragossa scolds her lover at the city gate like a fishwoman. Octavia. My brother shall be saved. To bed! to bed! Lover, forsooth! a dastard, and no man! Attendant. Follow, Sir Porcupine, and be our knight! (Hunching up her shoulders.) -pp. 50-1. Octavia. If foes pursue us, 'tis his back will fight. We had nearly omitted to mention the dramas of Mr. Simon Gray, and can now only add that they have much merit of an old-fashioned sort; such as would have commanded both tears and laughter half a century ago. There are also many very sensible remarks in his volume on the present state of the drama, and on the means of improving it. We agree with him that great reforms are needed, but we cannot indulge the hope of our theatres ever becoming a school of morals. Were they to be so far purified they would lose the patronage of their present supporters, without obtaining compensatory favor from any other class. Art. IV. Memoirs of the Life and Labours of Robert Morrison, D.D., F.R.S., M.R.A.S., Member of the Society Asiatique of Paris, &c. Compiled by his Widow, with critical Notices of his Chinese works, by Samuel Kidd. And an Appendix containing original Documents. 2 vols. London: Longman and Co. 1839. RECENT circumstances have tended to force upon the English nation an acquaintance with the people of China. The enterprise of missionaries had led the way. Gutzlaff and Medhurst were useful pioneers; and Davis has given, in popular form, what was known only to the scholar. The Catholic missionaries in former times; and in latter times, De Guignes and Goguet, Ramusat and Klaproth, had communicated to the savants of the continent, what Sir George Staunton, Mr. Barrow, and Dr. Leyden laid before the wealthy and erudite of England. But except in libraries of the rich, or the halls of colleges, such works were inaccessible to the general reader; while the missionary character of Gutzlaff and Medhurst's writings may have attached to them the patois of the conventicle, or the savour of Methodism, in the esteem of the literary world. Biography has now, however, become the coadjutor of history; a sort of common stream in the field of knowledge. The memoirs of one who was the friend and correspondent of Sir G. Staunton, and was well entitled to rank as the Anglo-Chinese Lexicographer, will scarcely fail to give a diffusive interest to the affairs of China, and a desire for an acquaintance with the condition of her people. We hail every symptom of a growing intercourse, or increasing sympathy, between the nations of the eastern and western hemispheres; yet we must not hastily conclude that our intelligence is correct, or that we are competent to form a just and satisfactory estimate of the character of the Chinese people. It will be necessary to travel among them without retinue, or guards, or official eclat; speaking their language without interpreters, read |