The Sun.
London, England, 1836-02-18 00:00:00

LITERATURE

THE PROVOST OF 131?(TGES.
Illacrone, London, 1836.
This tragedy—no uncommon case by the bye—acts
better than it reads. When we witnessed its first re-
presentation, the other night, at Drury Lane, we were
!Mich struck by the frequent force and beauty of the
language, which seemed to soar far beyond the level of
dramatic common-place : now, however, that we have
Perused it in the calm seclusion of the closet, our ad-
miration is somewhat abated, for we find that what we
Mistook for an exclusive excellence on the part of the
author, was rather owing to the emphatic declamation
of Macrtady, who gave even to the tritest sentiments
and most prosaic diction, a force and novelty of which
11° One could have supposed them susceptible. Not
that we would imply by this that the " Provost of
Bruges" is an inferior performance—far from it :it con-
tains many effective dramatic situations ; and through-
out, the third act, the best conceived and best written
in the whole play, is full of promise, from which, when
the author's mind becomes more disciplined, we augur
the most successful results. But the language of the
drama is certainly not what we imagined it to be, when
our judgment was under the spell of Macready's voice
and manner. We look in vain for lofty thoughts and
feelings rotse.d in an appropriate garb ; the very utmost
we Can say of it is, that it is perfectly unaffected,
making few or no pretensions to poetic excellence ;
but Conveyincr
ordinary ideas in an ordinary manner.
There
is no one sentiment calculated to haunt the
memory ; no one sun-burst of fancy to shed a light on
the Page, and kindle our fervid admiration. The
author
is a good dramatist, but an indifferent poet,
being in this respect the very reverse of Mr. Taylor,
Wut' has shown himself in his Phillip Van Arte-
"'lle," to be as superior a poet as he is an inferior play-
wright. The best scene in the play is that wherein
the Provost's son-in-law--a young, haughty Flemish
‘patrician, by name Bouchard—taxes him with having
ueen born a serf, when he had led him to suppose
that he was, like himself, of illustrious descent. As
this dialogue made a great impression on the audience,
tiresents a favourable specimen of the author's
style, we extract it.

Enter BOUCHARD (hastily.)
1/_enaan.—Ef.ortulphe, am I a Serf ?
ti4hertiLrnE,____Wfi v, now thou ravest.
°l:cnAan.—Fly not; from the point,
t, But answer me. Ant I a Serf, Bertulphe ?
'RitTULPHE.—There's not a Noble living in all Flanders
%Can boast a purer ancestry.
ucH/R13.—1 know it:
But I have nsix'd their lofty blood with thine.
'T is there the blow would reach me ; 'tis through thee !
day—art thou free ?
t`lcrutrim (undecidedly. )—Free?—Yes.
°,ucH/an (with violent impatience. )—Torture me not,—
t But tell me,—art thou free ?
roll'ci.PnE.—l am—for I am a man !
`°ucHAßD_By heaven, if thus thou playest with my words,
Thou'lt drive my frenzy to some desperate act,
MY reason will repent !—wert thou born noble ?
thill'uLPHE (calmly. )—No ! Never clasp thy hands in idle rage,
'sQut listen !—I was born of humble stock,—
ince now 'tis useless to affect concealment—
serfs—as your nobles call them : but I found
That in my breast, which might have fill'd a king's—
A heart as proud as ever chafed at bondage.
When manhood had braced up my limbs, I left
r,Y adopted home—it was the old Philippe's,—
~or both my parents died :—this was the tic
Gave him such power on me :—I left my country—
/ fled the soil they would have chained me to,
I%rid join'd the foreign wars. In my first fight
cleft a Noble to the waist. How now
I cried : is this a Serf? Another fell ;
.3,vas strange a Serf should mow down knights like grass 1—
"L, Y fortune smiled—l rose to a comnand ;
And still was conqueror, till my fame so grew,
That Nobles flock'd to fight beneath my banner.
Oh ! then bow the Serf smiled ! I join'd the Council,
And baffled haughty princes, crafty statesmen—
All of most noble blood ;—yet none could stand
Before the Serf—until at length this Earl,
Even Charles himself, besought my powerful arm,
On Baldwin's death, to prop his infant cause ;
I placed him on his throne—l—l—Bertulphe
I placed him—held him there !—Now tell me, boy,
Where is the drop of blood within these veins,
That speaks its baseness ? or, if none, confess
Heaven made no Serfs, but only man's device
To trample on his fellows !
socuAim_ on
i cfess
That you are great--wise—l believe you good !
That you have wrong'd me foully—sunk me—crush'd me—
ed the honour of my noble house—
graded lost ine—Heavens ! Bouchard a Serf !
At n . eras a plot from the beginning—
rick to
Thin. gi with my more noble name
own base metal—and you angled for me
with a girl's smiles;—your daughter for a bait !
The character of Bertulphe, the Provost, is that
from which we are chiefly inclined to augur favourably
the author's future dramatic efforts. It is not a
Mere outline, but a well-filled tip portrait of a proud,
lc Lianas man ; generous, but no hero of romance in
generosity, which is duly leavened with worldly
,':ft and caution ; capable of the noblest actions
nir,„
th:seif, and of appreciating them in others ; but at
that presumes
time ready to sacrifice without remorse, all
th-i Presumes to check or divert the course of his
aeter, it will be seen, is a com-
P—leuiti°n• Such a clia:
1"e, made up
mkt of mangy' motives, and even con-
letions, and consequently is more difficult to pour-
ay accurately than .1
for -sy or revenge, is to be personated. When, there-
e, we say that the author has fully succeeded in his
n'lneation, never filling short of, and never exceeding
4t
limits of natural propriety, we conceive that we
e be
i thostowing on him the highest prase p
wpossible ; for
411 force, and grace, and beauty of dialogue are
necessary to constitute the dramatist, yet these are
tn°' eomiderations when compared with the anatomy
thcharacter--the loftiest and most difficult requisite of
'e art.
Art?

CLEVELAND AND THE ST. CLAIRS,4-c.
In 3 vols. London: R. Bentley. 1836.
~hThis is a Tale of fashionable life, by the help of
teh the ennuied in the higher circles may pleasantly
het , 'l4 of some hours which otherwise might hang
drathvi',Y upon thz.ir hands. There is a good deal of
tilcatiC power in some of the seenes, and occasion-
ofjstriking sketches of personal character. A press
parliamentary matter prevents us from giving a
fore extended notice of it.
4 7.114.

.eITISE ON THE POLITICAL -1. ECONOMY
OF RAILROADS.
Br HENRY FAIRBAIRN.
London: John Hale. 1836.
to The wildest imaginings of the author of the " Ode
i 4 the Passions," so beautifully described by Johnson
leis
Lives of the Poets, were tame matter-of-fact
ofillii-n_r°n-places compared with the grave suggestious
i'i4enry Fairbairn on the Political Economy of
e:lroads. How easy to " gaze upon the magnifi-
hai-jee of golden palaces," having of course previously
con-t
tl3eni, compared with the stupendous operation of
to :trtiethig a line of Railways, one over the other,
lk:eaeh to moon ! And as to being " lulled to re-
vtlise 11 the waerfalls of Elysium," why it is nothing
e 4 Weighed against a solid line of Railroad from
110 ver to
Calais, and another from Donaghadee to
baittPatriek—both of which undertakings Mr. Fair-
recommends as private speculations; for he
it down as a principle (page 11) " That no Act
trParliament for the furtherance of any enterprise,
all e' or commercial purpose whatever, should be
tle::wed to be passed ; and that Railroad projects are
4n exception to the general rule." Another of
itor• Pairbairn's projects is the construction of a cast
1.4,111 canal to connect the Red Sea with the Mediter-
trifle.", which he considers might be procured At the
44t
king expense of twelve minions of money I The
or of this work is—to put tlle ;Post favourable
t'-"trstruction upon his suggestions—two or. three,een-
orr'es at least m advance of his age ; and it will "tl4eilex
e be as well to leave the analysis of its merits t,9
posterity.