HISTORICAL PLAYS. KING JOHN. DR. JOHNSON, in his preface to Shakspere, speaking of the division, by the players, of our author's works into comedies, histories, and tragedies, thus defines what, he says, was the notion of a dramatic history in those times: "History was a series of actions, with no other than chronological succession, independent on each other, and without any tendency to introduce and regulate the conclusion." Again, speaking of the unities of the critics, he says of Shakspere-"His histories, being neither tragedies nor comedies, are not subject to any of their laws; nothing more is necessary to all the praise which they expect, than that the changes of action be so prepared as to be understood, that the incidents be various and affecting, and the characters consistent, natural, and distinct. No other unity is intended, and, therefore, none is to be sought. In his other works he has well enough preserved the unity of action."' Taking these observations together, as a general definition of the character of Shakspere's histories, we are constrained to say that no opinion can be farther removed from the truth. So far from the "unity of action" not being regarded in Shakspere's histories, and being subservient to the “chronological succession," it rides over that succession whenever the demands of the scene require "a unity of a higher order, which connects the events by reference to the workers, gives a reason for them in the motives, and presents men in their causative character."* The great connecting link that binds together all the series of actions in the 'King John' of Shakspere, is the fate of Arthur. From the first to the last scene, the hard struggles and the cruel end of the young Duke of Brittany either lead to the action, or form a portion of it, or are the direct causes of an ulterior consequence. The moving cause of the main action in the play of 'King * Coleridge's Literary Remains. John' is put before us in the very first lines. Chatillon, the ambassador of France, thus demands of John the resignation of his crown : "Philip of France, in right and true behalf To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine." 66 In the year 1190, when Arthur was only two years old, his uncle, Richard Coeur-de-Lion, contracted him in marriage with the daughter of Tancred, King of Sicily. The good-will of Richard towards Arthur, on this occasion, might be in part secured by a dowry of twenty thousand golden oncie, which the Sicilian King paid in advance to him; but, at any rate, the infant Duke of Brittany was recognised in this deed, by Richard, as our most dear nephew, and heir, if, by chance, we should die without issue." When Richard did die, without issue, in 1199, Arthur, and his mother Constance, who was really the duchess regnant of Brittany, were on friendly terms with him, although, in 1197, Richard had wasted Brittany with fire and sword; but John produced a testament by which Richard gave him the crown. The adherents of John, however, did not rely upon this instrument; and, if we may credit Matthew Paris, John took the brightest gem of the house of Anjou, the crown of England, upon the principle of election. His claim was recognised also in Normandy. Maine, Touraine, and Anjou, on the other hand, declared for Arthur; and at Angiers the young prince was proclaimed King of England. As Duke of Brittany, Arthur held his dominion as a vassal of France ;-but Constance, who knew the value of a powerful protector for her son, offered to Philip Augustus of France that Arthur should do homage not only for Brittany, but also for Normandy, Maine, Anjou, Touraine, and Poitou. Philip encouraged the pretensions of Arthur to the provinces for which he had offered homage, and he met his young vassal at Mans, where he received his oath, bestowed on him knighthood, and took him with him to Paris. We may assume this point of the history of Arthur as determining the period when Shakspere's play of King John' commences. As an historical picture, the 'King John' is wonderfully true. What a Gothic grandeur runs through the whole of these scenes! We see the men of six centuries ago, as they played the game of their personal ambition-now swearing hollow friendships, now breathing stern denunciations;-now |