head. The play of Tears and Smiles was first acted at the Philadelphia Theatre in the year 1807.

The plot is rather complex and not very judiciously unfolded. Mr. Campdon, during the American revolution was a merchant in Hamburgh, where he amassed an ample fortune; and returns to America, his native country, with two children, Sydney and Clara, whom accident threw in his way in Europe, but of whose origin he is utterly ignorant. A letter which he received with them, whilst it conjures him to be their father, has the name of the writer totally effaced. Campdon however, protects them and passes them upon the world as the children of a friend.Three years before the play commences, Clara had eloped, as is supposed, no one knows with whom or whither; and Sidney gains the affections of Louisa Campdon, the daughter of his protector, so much against the inclination of her father, that he obtains for him a commission in the American navy, in order to remove him from her presence. In the mean time, old Campdon determines to marry his daughter to Fluttermore, an American coxcomb, who like the monkey in Gay's fables, had travelled to reform the times, and had just returned to Philadelphia, as the play opens, with a head filled with all the foreign absurdities which he could remember. Sidney who had inspired Louisa Campdon with a mutual passion, arrives from the Mediterranean, where he had distinguished himself at the siege of Tripoli, just as the marriage with Fluttermore is about to be consumma ted. Old Campdon determines to have Louisa married on that very night in order to elude the dangers which Sidney's arrival had excited, and Louisa resolves to escape from a tyranny which refused her the respite of a day. Sidney, on the other hand, equally distressed, consults with Osbert, a friend who had returned with him from Gibraltar, upon the propriety of an elopement; he dissuades him, and at length, finding every other argument fruitless, commands him on the authority of a father, not to disgrace his parents and his own honour, by ingratitude to his benefactor. The elopement is thus prevented. Fluttermore it seems, had been the seducer of Clara, three years before, and she had retired into obscurity, near the seat of General Campdon, and hearing of the marriage which was about to take place, she comes forward to require Fluttermore to protect his offspring; but he in the mean time, hearing of her distress, agrees to make

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her all the amends in his power by marriage: and as he has never been anxious for a connection with Miss Campdon, the way is thus regularly opened for her marriage with Sidney, Old Campdon consents, and then finds that Osbert, in whom Sidney had discovered his father, was the correspondent whose name was effaced from the letter entrusting Sidney and Clara to his


Madam Clermont, the wife of Albert, had married him clandestinely in Europe, against the will of her family, which was of exalted rank; she was torn from his arms and hurried to a convent, and he was compelled to fly, with his two children, from the exasperated vengeance of her family.

Albert left his children, with a letter to Campdon, in the care of a servant, who faithfully discharged his trust; but was himself hurried to Toulon and conveyed on board a vessel, which was soon afterwards taken by a Barbary corsair, and he remained a prisoner thirteen years. He sought his children in Germany, but his friend had long before disappeared; for his wife in France, but the convent was demolished and her family had become extinct; meeting with Sidney in Gibraltar, he discovered in America all the happiness he had so long been seeking in vain.

We are,

There is an underplot, which ultimately unites the Widow Freegrace with Rangely, presumptively borrowed in many respects from Hoadley's character of Ranger in the Suspicious. Husband. The dialogue is often lively and animated; the characters natural, and generally well preserved. however, fearful that the story is not developed with such clearness, as to leave the mind of a spectator free from perplexity at the conclusion.

The story of the Indian Princess, is extracted according to our author's account, from the General History of Virginia, written by Capt. Smith, and printed in 1624; and its principal interest is derived from the loves of Rolfe and Pochahontas, which must be familiar to most of our readers. The radical objection to this production, is the melo-dramatick cast which is given to it; but it contains occasional touches of nature, which bestow a charm upon it, in spite of the intrinsick defect in its formation. The Indian character is generally well preserved, and there is a tenderness in Pochahontas, which whilst it accords with the his

torical account, confers uncommon interest upon the fable.The following extract is a fair example of the phraseology of an Indian warrior :

Miami, (approaches Pochahontas, and his attendants lay skins at ber feet.) Princess, behold the spoils I bring thee. Our hunters are laden with the deer and the soft furred beaver. But Miami scorned such prey. I watched for the mighty buffaloe and the shaggy bear, my club felled them to the ground, and I tore the skins from their backs. The fierce carcajou had wound himself round the tree, ready to dart upon the hunter; but the hunter's eyes were not closed, and the carcajou quivered on the point of my spear.. 1 heard the wolf howl as he looked at the moon, and the beams that fell upon his up turned face, showed my tomahawk the spot it was to enter. I marked where the panther had couched, and before he could spring, my arrow went into his heart. Behold the spoil the Susquehannock brings thee!

The ensuing love scene between Rolf and Pochahontas is well wrought, replete with tenderness, and superiour to the composition of most of the modern European play-compilers.


Prs. Nay let me on


No further, gentle love;
The rugged way has wearied you already.

Prs. Feels the wood pigeon weariness, who flies,
Mated with her beloved? Ah! lover, no.

Rol. Sweet! in this grove we will exchange adieus ;

My steps should point straight onward; were thou with me,
Thy voice would bid me quit the forward path
At every pace, or fix my side-long look,
Spell-bound, upon thy beauties.

Ah! you love not
The wild-wood prattle of the Indian maid,
As once you did.

By heaven! my thirsty ear,
Could ever drink its liquid melody.
Oh! I could talk with thee, till hasty night,
Ere yet the centinel day had done his watch;
Veil'd like a spy, should steal on printless feet,
To listen to our parley! Dearest love!
My captain has arrived, and I do know,
When honour and when duty call upon me,
Thou wouldst not have me chid for tardiness.
But, ere the matin of to-morrow's lark,
Do echo from the roof of nature's temple,
Sweetest, expect me.


Wilt thou surely come ?
Ral. To win thee from thy father will I come;
And my commander's voice shall join with mine,
Too woo Powhatan to resign his treasure.

Prs. Go then, but ah! forget not-

All else, to think on thee!

I'll forget


Thou art my life!

I lived not till I saw thee, love; and now,
I live not in thine absence. Long, O ! long
I was the savage child of savage Nature;
And when her flowers sprang up, while each green bough
Sang with the passing west wind's rustling breath ;
When her warm visitor, flush'd Summer, came,
Or Autumn strew'd her yellow leaves around,
Or the shrill north wind pip'd his mournful music,
I saw the changing brow of my wild mother
With neither love nor dread. But now, O! now,

I could entreat her for eternal smiles,
So thou might'st range through groves of lovelier flowers,
Where never Winter with his icy lip,
Should dare to press thy cheek.


My sweet enthusiast !
Prs. O! 'tis from thee that I have drawn my being :
Thou'st ta'en me from the path of savage errour,
Blood-stain'd and rude, where rove my countrymen,
And taught me heavenly truths, and fill'd my heart
With sentiments sublime, and sweet and social.
Oft has my winged spirit, following thine,
Cours'd the bright day-beam, and the star of night,
And every rolling planet of the sky,
Around their circling orbits. O my love,
Guided by thee, has not my daring soul
O'ertopt the far-off mountains of the east,
Where, as our fathers fable, shadowy hunters
Pursue the deer, or clasp the melting maid,
Mid ever blooming spring? Thence, soaring high
From the deep vale of legendary fiction

Hast thou not heaven-ward turn'd my dazzled sight,
Where sing the spirits of the blessed good

Around the bright throne of the Holy One?

'This thou hast done; and ah! what couldst thou more,
Belov'd preceptor, but direct that ray,

Which beams from heaven to animate existence,
And bid my swelling bosom beat with love!

The Indian Princess certainly deserves encouragement, and were it not that it is so blended with the absurdities of the melodrama we should have no hesitation in recommending it to the attention of the managers of the Boston Theatre, for the next



15 The Patriotick Proceedings of the Legislature of Massachusetts, during their Session from Jan. 26, to March 4, 1809. Boston, J. Belcher, and T. Wells.

16 The Embargo Laws, with the Message from the President, upon which they were founded; to which is added an Appendix, containing various important state papers. Boston, J. Cushing and J. Belcher.




Vol. I.



THE following lines to GEORGE COLMAN the Younger we hope will be found to possess sufficient interest amongst the lovers of the drama, to attract their attention. They have merit, and occasionally touch upon subjects of local application. We are so much pleased with the genius and wit of the writer to whom they are addressed, that we are happy in seizing every opportunity to extend his reputation.


Otium Divos rogat in patenti, &c.


THE youth, from his indentures freed,
Who mounts astride the flying steed,
The Muses' hunt to follow,
With terror eyes the yawning pit,
And for a modicum of wit

Petitions great Apollo.

For wit the quarto-building wight
Invokes the Gods; the jilt in spite
Eludes the man of letters-

[Vol. 1.

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