That prophecy has been fulfilled, in the production of this very excellent dramatic poem or romance. We confess that we like it better than Mr. Taylor's Philip van Artevelde, though both works of kindred spirits. They differ in this, however; that one is a mechanic, the other an organic piece of work. Mr. Taylor's romance has been highly praised in the quarterly reviews; but we must claim to reckon him rather among the Asinarii than among the Asini. He would ride the public by these means-: -and might have ridden it, if he had presented himself as a living man for its back. But he preferred the character of a curiously constructed skeleton, of which the different parts were taken from many others; and out of all, this Apelles proceeded to form his bony beauty, as an anatomical study. Now the public will not be ridden by Death-for the public is an ass, and his pale majesty is suited already with a pale horse. Death on the pale Ass would be laughed at; and the asinine has already so much contempt, that it cannot well endure more. As an anatomical study, however, Philip van Artevelde is an excellent subject; and we have no doubt that it will be properly esteemed— and it deserves high estimation-in the schools whither it is relegated. "Oh! many are the poets that are sown The vision and the faculty divine; exclaims Wordsworth—and, after him, "He was one Of many thousands such that die betimes, Whose story is a fragment known to few. Then comes the man who has the luck to live, The world knows nothing of its greatest men." And thus, throughout the piece, the reader will find the materials of it to be derived from the Lake school poetry and the German systems of transcendentalism. Not so in Paracelsus. We see the thoughts growing up, and acquiring body and stature. The stream is flowing. Defects there are in the work; but these belong to it because velde is almost faultless; but only beit is a moving, breathing thing. Artecause it is made-up-a pattern article -to shew not life in itself, but skill in its maker. This we would not have said at an earlier day, both out of respect to the poet and his first critic; but now that the experiment has been tried with the public, and nothing that we can utter may harm its success, we feel entitled to speak out, if only to shew that we are not to be nose-led by authority, however high, or deceived by appearances, however specious. Imitation is not creation-cleverness is not genius-compilation is not inspiration. Paracelsus took six months to write; we wish the poet had spent six years upon it. Artevelde took six years; we wish the author had admitted us to its perusal when only six months old. The one period, however, is as much too short as is the other too long, for a perfectly healthy gestation. In the one, the soul has not been suffered to mature life; in the other, the body has had a chance of outlasting it. Nevertheless, give us life, passion, motion, growth. The premature infant is yet lovely; the posthumous carcass is only proper for the dissecting-room. There it will be a curiosity-there it is one; and no little may be learned from a sedulous examination of its structure and proportions. Our attention has lately been turned to The Sister's Tragedy, from the fact of its having been recommended by Joanna Baillie. Her good opinion is sufficient to bear the author up bravely ; nor has it been given without warrant discernible in the merits of his play, which is founded on the powerful ballad of The Sisters, by Mr. Alfred TenThe central character of this piece is Oriana, the sister of Xarifa, whose tale is told in these few sentences:- nyson. "This lady loved a noble cavalleroEra ra a úndlika form added a tongue, We have yet another respectable production in the dramatic line,- The Dorias; a Historical Drama, in Five Acts. Bold man was this Blackwoodsman to attempt this subject after Schiller's Fiesco. Though written before the maturity of his genius, The Conspiracy of Fiesco is not unworthy of the pen of the German poet. It continues, indeed, some of the faults of The Robbers-a tone above the natural, a key-note of insanity; the "still small voice" of humanity speaks not yet, unmingled with tempest and earthquake-but neither is it altogether unheard. Fiesco and Leonora are hero and heroine, such only as transcendent genius could develope. Possessing eminently all the qualities which win upon the human heart, which command respect or secure attachment, graceful and majestic in his person, magnificent even to profusion, of a generosity that anticipated the wishes of his friends and exceeded the expectations of strangers, of an insinuating address, gentle manners, and of a flowing affability,-Fiesco, nevertheless, concealed all the dispositions which mark men out for taking the lead in the most dangerous and dark conspiracies. Such is the description given of him by Robertson; and so is he presented by Schiller. In the play before us, we are compelled to regret that he is shorn of his gigantic proportions. The character of Verrina is skilfully brought out. Many have prospered, but he has not; and he argues, that the reason of his failure is to be found in his overmuch honesty. Here is no small insight into the human breast indicated. Thus it is that the incipient act of dishonesty is conceived; and the mind begins by despising itself for what it has done rightly. Henceforth the man proceeds on inverted principles. He begs to have place nearest the person of Fiesco on the night of the assault on the Dorias. Taking advantage of this situation, he hurls his unsuspecting leader from the tottering plank that reached, as related in history, from the shore to the admiral's galley in the harbour, and along which the hero was proceeding to ascertain the reason of some disturbance among the vessels. In thus substituting for the accidental drowning of history the act of Verrina, he follows Schiller; who, however, ascribes it to nobler motives,-the indignation of a republican for the apostasy of Fiesco. Then follow the fatal conferences with the deputies of the senate. Verrina puts himself forward, hoping to fill the place of him whom he had ambitiously slain, that he might successfully supplant. This prominence brings mortal punishment upon him, when Andreas Doria is restored to power. In this dénouement would seem to lie the moral of the play. It is easy to perceive that this solution is too insignificant to be appropriated to the subject of this drama. Fiesco is thereby degraded to a secondary character, and has, indeed, no part in the catastrophe,-a defect this which will deservedly exclude The Dorias from the stage. Nevertheless, fair evidence of dramatic power is exhibited in its conduct, and especially in some scenes. Neither the dramatic nor poetic genius of this country is yet effete, let detractors say what they will. Difficulties lie at present in the way of a public audience; but they will not interfere long with the relations of author and reader, dramatist and spectator. Literary interests have not been the only ones that have suffered by the long continuance of political conflict; business of all sorts has been stagnant: but healthful movement now begins to be again perceptible; and it will reach the waters of Helicon in common with streams of humbler name. There is hope-much hope-to be gathered from the general character of the pieces brought into prominence by this paper; we allude to the chastity of their execution. The day for bombast has clearly gone. Writers even of the humbler grade learn to depend on what there is of good sense in their productions, and venture not to substitute common-place by fustian. This is a clear gain. The meanest of the dramas that we have now presented to the reader demonstrates some insight into the human heart-some knowledge of nature some feeling of truth and poesy. Not one of them but is intrinsically superior to the Bertrams and the Apostates of no remote period. Two, quality of execution, and one in propriety of conception. Of the two that remain, Paracelsus is the more original in the latter attribute; but Philip van Artevelde stands without an equal for execution in modern composition; yet not as an acting play, but as a romance in dialogue for the closet. Nothing calculated expressly for the stage has lately been attempted, with the single exception of Sergeant Talfourd's Ion, -which, whatever be its merits, does not seem, after all, best fitted for that arena. We have some delicacy, however, in giving a decided opinion on this tragedy, from the circumstance of its not being in reality published, though privately circulated in printed copies. Criticism is deprived of its legitimate weapons when it is bound in honour to say nothing which shall tend to destroy the dramatic offspring before it fairly sees the light of day. Wait we, therefore, until we can speak out, released from these restrictions; our duty shall then be done with fearless honesty, uninfluenced by the opinions of others, whatever their name and fame in the world of criticism. Indeed, we are jealous of that mode of reviewing which precedes publication. The partiality of friendship is, in all such cases, to be suspected. It should be esteemed only as an individual recommendation of a new writer to the public by an old favourite. The character of a book is not to be estimated by a private or solitary opinion. It is not until a work has met fairly the public mind-until we are able to compare our impression with that of othersand have taken time to meditate on both, and from the amplest obtainable premises of this kind to deduce elaborate conclusions-that we are properly in a condition to give in a verdict, with justice to the public and our own reputation, in the reviewal of a new literary production. In the present instance, however, the difficulty is not very great. To what school of the drama does this tragedy belong? Clearly not to the school of Shakespeare, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson, but to the rhetorical school. Is it, then, equal to the Venice Preserved of Otway, the Fair Penitent of Rowe, or the Revenge of Young? The reply will decide the degree of praise to which Ion is fairly entitled. much as it confesses the influence of the Poets of the Lakes. This influence has been as the sun, and rain, and dew to the tree; yea, more. A certain Wordsworthian feeling animates it, like an infused sap in the stem; and some Coleridgeian embellishments clothe its branches like superadded fruitage. Are there not Fountains as well as Tanks in the world? How is it that so few seek to the former? Be this as it may, it is well for every man, after the Oriental precept," to draw water from his own cistern, and to rejoice in the Wife of his Youth "- namely, in that Genius which is as the Feeling of Childhood operative yet in the Power of Manhood, surviving the ruin of early hopes, and finding its fruition both in what it becomes and what it is, however diverse and divided, in appearance, the attributes and action of the mysterious twain twain, yet twin-born; and still, though in separate paths of endeavour, acknowledging a consciousness of that earliest relation. Try not, Asinarii! to interpret this; for it is beyond your skill-if ever ye had any of which, we conceive, there is too good reason to doubt. ORANGEISM VERSUS ROMANISM. PERHAPS the most common and current of all the pickpocket's manœuvres is that of raising, whenever a loss is discovered, a cry of "Stop thief!" against some innocent passer-by. As "there is nothing new under the sun," and as it would be more than ordinarily absurd to expect a new idea from such people as the Humes, and Roebucks, and Wards, of the reformed House of Commons, we shall not complain, on the score of want of novelty merely, of the adoption of this old trick against the Orangemen of the present day. Not being of this much-calumniated society ourselves, we may express an unbiassed opinion concerning it. For England and Scotland, then, we must admit that we are not able to discern its utility; and, if not clearly useful, there is no doubt that it must be absolutely injurious. To have "secret societies" among us is in itself a disadvantage, in that it appals the fearful, shocks the weak, and repels the undecided politician. Our wish, therefore, could it be realized, would extend even to the entire dissolution of these associations. Of Ireland we speak with less deci-, sion. Not quite two millions of Pro-" testants are there mingled up with more than six millions of bigoted Romanists. To have Churchmen and Dissenters, Methodists or Baptists, amalgamated together, in England, is a matter of no alarm, be the proportions what they may. But in Ireland the case is totally different. The Protestant minority is regarded with the most inimical feeling by that great body of Papists who surround them on every side. Their diminution, by fire, sword, and exile, is openly endeavoured; and anticipated with equal pleasure by priest and demagogue. How natural, then, the feeling which leads them to • Parliamentary Reports: Orange Lodges, Associations, or Societies, in Ireland. 1835; Orange Institutions in Great Britain and the Colonies, 1835. A Letter to the Most Rev. Dr. Murray, Roman Catholic Archbishop of Dublin, in answer to his Appeal to the Protestants of Great Britain. By a Protestant. London, 1835. Cock. Authentic Reports of the Two great Protestant Meetings held at Exeter Hall, London, on Saturday, June 20, and Saturday, July 11, 1835, to prove to Protestants of all Denominations, by Authentic Documents, the real Tenets of the Church of Rome, as now held by the Roman Catholic Priests and Bishops of Ireland. London, 1835. Hatchard and Son. Roman Catholic Morality, as inculcated in the Theological Class-Books used in Maynooth College. Dublin, 1836. Milliken. Doctrines of the Church of Rome, and Disorders of Ireland. An Address to the Protestants of Great Britain, by the Rev. Mortimer O'Sullivan. London, 1836. Mortimer. The Glasgow Scottish Guardian, containing a Report of the great Protestant Meeting held in that City, on the 26th of January, 1836; with a full Account of the Rev. R. J. M'Ghee's Speech upon the occasion. associate together for mutual selfdefence; and how culpable should we be, if, at this distance, and amidst entirely dissimilar circumstances of peace and security, we were to indulge in speculative condemnations of these probably necessary and purely defensive associations. Partly, however, as a means of raising a popular feeling against the Protestant party, and partly as a pretext for persecuting and proscribing every individual Protestant in Ireland, a vehement clamour has been latterly raised, both in Parliament, and also in all the Whig-Radical journals, against "Orange Societies," as against something of the most fearful and detestable character, so far as morals were concerned, and partaking equally of illegality and sedition, in a political point of view. Having listened for some months to this clamour, we felt, at last, a desire to ascertain, if possible, to what maturity the accusers had brought their charges; and in what degree they imagined these charges to be colourably established. We have, therefore, turned over four large folio volumes of Reports of the House of Commons, in order to ascertain, if possible, what were the crimes with which the Orange Societies stood deliberately charged. Three of these volumes contain merely evidence taken before the committee, on the character, scope, and bearings of the Orange Societies in Ireland. And to these volumes there is appended no opinion, or accusation, or other statement of the committee, as to the general result of their inquiries. Another volume, however, concerns the associations existing in Great Britain and the Colonies, and is put forth by a committee, consisting of Mr. Hume and thirteen other Radicals and Whigs, moderated by the addition of only seven Conservatives, such being, of course, according to Mr. Hume's judgment and arithmetic, a fair selection from a House of Commons consisting of about 338 Radicals and Whigs, and 320 Conservatives. we Well, to this Report, drawn upwe will not say by Mr. Hume, but by some of his friends of the tailnaturally and eagerly turned, to see what were the most extreme charges which could be brought against these terrible "Orangemen." With a com too, were included the names of Hume, Sheil, Ward, Finn, Leader, and others of the most thorough-going "liberal " complexion, there could be no doubt that the worst that could be, by any possibility, either alleged or insinuated against these societies, would be unhe- ! sitatingly put forward: here, therefore, we might expect to find, at least, the whole of the case against the Orange Associations. And to what does that case, in its utmost extent, amount? It is thus stated, in the words of the Report: "The obvious tendency and effect of the Orange Institution is, to keep up an exclusive association in civil and military society, exciting one portion of the people against the other; to increase the rancour and animosity too often, unfortunately, existing between persons of different religious persuasions; to make the Protestant the enemy of the Catholic, and the Catholic the enemy of the Protestant, by processions on particular days, attended with the insignia of the society, to excite to breaches of the peace and to bloodshed; to raise up other secret societies among the Catholics in their own defence, and for their own protection, against the insults of the Orangemen; to interrupt the course of justice; and to interfere with the discipline of the army," &c. Thus much of the evil; now of the remedy, the Committee thus speak: "Your Committee, in looking for a corrective to those evils which disturb both civil and military society so much, and which threaten the most serious consequences to the community of the united kingdom, if allowed to continue, do not contemplate that any new legislative enactment is necessary, the power of the law being at present, in the opinion of your Committee, sufficient to protect the country from all such associations." Thus, then, after long and frequent investigations-after weeks devoted to the most searching investigation, it turns out, at last, to be impossible for Mr. Hume and his thirteen Radical compeers, either to point out any breach of the existing law to which the attorney-general's attention might be directed, or to recommend any new enactment by which these horrid Orangemen might be effectually put down! In fact, the whole affair turns out to be only a bad imitation of the Freemasons' Societies, of which that illus Duke of Sussex, |